The day was characterized by the usual weather that accompanies summer in Minnesota; hot, humid, and obscenely bright. Despite my shorts, my goal was to make it to the air-conditioned comfort of my apartment as quickly as possible. I was crossing the street when my eye was drawn to a beautifully dressed woman who I quietly admired but instantly regretted my making eye contact with her when she stopped me.
“Hi, I’m recruiting for a bible study event” she said “have you ever studied the Bible?”
I felt a spark of surprise when I realized I recognized her from a month before when she had stopped to talk to me for the same reason. But it disappeared as quickly as it came.
“No” I responded politely despite my annoyance.
“What is your religious background?”
Great! Here is my chance to get away was my thought when I quickly lied “I don’t have one.”
I severely underestimated her will as she continued to ask “well then what do you think happens when people die?”
That question took me aback and I felt increasingly uncomfortable and defensive, I knew that I had to exit the conversation soon “I don’t know” I replied as kindly as possible.
“Well then, what do you think happened to Hitler when he died, he killed 6 million people”
Not today Satan “I don’t know, I have to go.”
I quickly left.
The rest of my week continued to be uneventful thankfully, but these instances were not new to me. Attending a major liberal school in a major metropolitan city meant many people used the hallowed grounds of an academic environment to make their voices heard. Many of my fall semesters have been spent looking at men holding up signs about burning in hell and making speeches about the importance of adhering to God’s word. I’ve been handed pocket bibles, invited to Christian gatherings, and stopped by those starting Christian clubs on campus. Even my own Christian friends began to convince me to join their church upon recognizing that I was now a heathen.
Heathen:
A person who does not belong to a widely held religion (especially one who is not a Christian, Jew, or Muslim) as regarded by those who do
Although a part of me is very annoyed and frustrated by these interactions, contempt is a fleeting emotion. In Christianity, those who fail to worship at the feet of a god (or at the feet of a Christian god if you’re on the more extreme end) are condemned to an eternity of suffering in the afterlife and sometimes even during life itself. So I understand they truly feel like they’re doing me a service by attempting to reconvert me back to my Christian roots. But I never asked to be saved and I left what I left for a reason.
I was raised Roman Catholic and was very pious as a child and as a tween. My faith was something I was vocal about but I don’t remember it as something I was eager to tell everyone despite my faith telling me to do so. While I loved to read the children's Bibles, I also loved reading about astronomy, meteorology, and human anatomy. I read about the natural world, racism, abortion, immigration, and politics. As I grew into a teenager and began to be more conscious about my scientific and religious beliefs, there was more of an effort to reconcile the two. So instead of believing God created man and the Universe in seven days, I decided maybe He took more time to allow the formation of planets, galaxies, and solar systems. At the right time, at the right moment, compounds that would allow for Earth to become a planet to host life landed here which set forth a series of events that would allow for life to thrive and evolution to take place.
Even though this belief system worked very well for me, at some point I had to accept that my political and religious stances could never align and at 13 years old I declared myself agnostic.
Since then I’ve spent a lot of time reorganizing and redefining my spiritual beliefs to something a little more new age-y. I met people via social media who introduced me to new ways of what a god could be. I resonanted with these ideas and they allowed me to see the world and Christianity in a different light.
My lack of interest in going back to my old faith was reaffirmed, ironically, when I attended Catholic mass for the first time since before the pandemic for a baptism. Because I had grown up in the church, the rituals and rites during the service felt familiar, but what stood out to me was the first prayer we recited, The Penitential Act, which had us apologizing for our sins to God and to our brethren.
One thing I don’t miss about Christianity is how you are constantly reminded that you are a sinner. Whether it’s due to an individual act or a curse passed down from Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden, you are encouraged to pose as a walking apology to God the Father, in constant need of redemption. It’s why many of those who proselytize on campus push fear of Hell and guilt and sorrow. Because Christianity operates similarly to capitalism: it convinces you there’s something wrong with you and offers you a solution.
It’s also funny how for people who speak a lot about forgiveness and redemption, Hell is a place they seem all too quick to bring up. I remember the tone of contempt when she asked me where I thought Hitler went after he died as a result of killing six million people and while I understand it, I don’t understand it. Adolf was a horrible person with a horrible agenda and yes, I can understand how the thought of him suffering eternally for his sins can bring comfort. But I’ve seen enough to know that righteous indignation isn’t limited to fascist leaders and genociders.
I don’t write this piece as a way to degrade religion and Christianity. Religion serves its purpose of helping to comfort, soothe existential fears, and explain the inexplicable. I also understand that as attendance at churches all over the country decreases and the religion loses its hold on the US population, people will become more desperate to recruit new parishioners. I saw this firsthand when I watched a boy literally chase people down the street in order to market the new Christian club opening up.
I’ve spent much of my agnostic and now spiritual life being asked why I left my faith by Christians confused or quietly angry as to why I would rather condemn myself to godlessness than worship theirs. But I owe no one an explanation. My own confusion lies in the inability of some to allow others to travel the spiritual path that calls to them, but I guess I’ve answered my own question in this very article.
Despite what many loyal disciples believe, my heathenness is not an invitation to conversion. I know what I left and have no interest in returning regardless of any promises of change or better experiences. I have accepted Christianity for what it is. If it were up to me any tips and tricks offered to keep me loyal to a Christian god would result in a religion that is no longer Christian. So if you want to ask, just know I’m not spiritually lost, I’m just not going in the same direction you are.
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