On religion and conservative Christianity
Nov. 8th, 2004 09:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
emmagrant01I have no idea why I'm posting this, really. I read ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wayfairer's post about growing up a conservative Christian, and it was so frickin' familiar that it threw me for a loop. I started to post a long response there, but... I dunno. It felt too personal. I think I'll do it here instead, f-locked.
I grew up in a small town in the south, went to a Southern Baptist Church, and grew up believing many of the things she described. I started hitting walls very early though, and I don't think I ever truly accepted the church's teachings. I remember being 5 years old and hearing the preacher shouting about how dinosaur bones were put in the earth by Satan to tempt people (actually, men -- they were always men), and I remember thinking "No, he's wrong." Seriously! I was infatuated with dinosaurs, had a shelf full of books about them, had stuffed dinosaurs I played with and watched dinosaur movies whenever I could. There was no way, my five-year-old mind reasoned, that this one man who yelled at us every Sunday could be right and all of my books could be wrong.
That started a ten-year strained relationship between me and religion. I started asking questions after that, first of my parents. I was taught in church to read the Bible literally, but I was uncomfortable with that. I was reading a lot of poetry in first grade (I was a weird kid), and I knew that poems were full of hidden meanings and metaphors. My favorite poem was Frost's "The Road Not Taken", and I had spent months interpreting it literally (and freaking out about walking in the woods) before my mother explained to me that it was a metaphor for choosing a path in life. That was a revelation for a six-year-old, as you might imagine. So why should the Bible be any different, I began to wonder?
To my parents' credit, they answered my questions thoughtfully. Despite being raised SBs themselves, neither was inclined toward the literal interpretation of the Bible that others in my family were. My father told me about the play "Inherit the Wind", and how he'd always liked the idea that one of God's days could be a billion years long, and that could explain dinosaurs and evolution. So you see, my parents taught me very early to think for myself and to interpret the written word carefully. I doubt they realized how powerful a lesson that was for me.
My church years were uncomfortable, generally. I never fully accepted the teachings of the SB church, which seemed to me to be overly literal, too black-and-white, and often hateful. I occasionally went to church with friends who were Presbyterians, and was shocked at how pleasant the experience was. I didn't leave angry or feeling guilty. But I still didn't buy it. Religion just didn't make sense to me, no matter how much I thought about it, nor how much I wanted it to make sense.
When I was 14 years old, I met my first atheist, a senior in my high school, a friend of a friend. I was shocked at first -- how could someone not believe in God? I could understand hating religion, or even hating God, but not believing there was a God at all? It was a new idea for me, something I'd never even considered before. It was frightening to consider it, because it meant giving up on many of the things that had been part of my life.
But it was also very appealing. No more pretending at church. No more having to rationalize and qualify religion, even while I disagreed with the words being said. No more pretending to pray, all the while wondering why these idiots thought God would care about the outcome of a band competition. No more having to justify being friends with Jews or gay people (I'm serious, that was an issue). I could just let it all go, and accept the world for what it was. My family had stopped going to church years before, after my parents got divorced, so it wasn't like I was used to going every Sunday and would miss people.
So I accepted it one morning in tenth grade: I was an atheist. It was a strange relief. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I had a new outlook on life! In some twisted way, I finally understood what people meant when they talked about being "born again".
Still, it was two years before I could say the words out loud: "I'm an atheist." I still have not told my parents, though I'm pretty sure they know. We simply don't discuss it. I look back now and realize I haven't really been a Christian since grade school. I had started compartmentalizing religion and reality very early, and letting go of all the religion was very easy.
So given all of this, do I think I understand the perspective of conservative Christians, aswayfairer seems to? Well, no. I grew up surrounded by conservative Christians, in an extended family of conservative Christians, and constantly hiding my non-belief from them. My parents may have accepted my questioning, but few other people did. I was told on many occasions to sit down and shut up, and stop asking questions. One church elder even suggested Satan was planting all of these questions in my mind. I was eight at the time. I didn't believe him, by the way.
So as hard as I try, I can't stop regarding conservative Christians as closed-minded and ignorant, simply because the people around me were just like that. They didn't value education or science; they were highly suspicious of outsiders; they believed everything the preacher said; they were quick to judge; and they did not tolerate anyone questioning their beliefs.
I'm not claiming that all conservative Christians are like that, but I have to admit that most of the ones I've ever met have been. Keep in mind that I go visit my family several times a year, and they are still like that. I love them dearly, but they're homophobic, racist, sexist, and ignorant. Or maybe they're likewayfairer says: embroiled in a war against the evils of the world. I suppose that "evil" includes me. At least I can put a reasonable face on it for them.
wayfairer's post about growing up a conservative Christian, and it was so frickin' familiar that it threw me for a loop. I started to post a long response there, but... I dunno. It felt too personal. I think I'll do it here instead, f-locked.I grew up in a small town in the south, went to a Southern Baptist Church, and grew up believing many of the things she described. I started hitting walls very early though, and I don't think I ever truly accepted the church's teachings. I remember being 5 years old and hearing the preacher shouting about how dinosaur bones were put in the earth by Satan to tempt people (actually, men -- they were always men), and I remember thinking "No, he's wrong." Seriously! I was infatuated with dinosaurs, had a shelf full of books about them, had stuffed dinosaurs I played with and watched dinosaur movies whenever I could. There was no way, my five-year-old mind reasoned, that this one man who yelled at us every Sunday could be right and all of my books could be wrong.
That started a ten-year strained relationship between me and religion. I started asking questions after that, first of my parents. I was taught in church to read the Bible literally, but I was uncomfortable with that. I was reading a lot of poetry in first grade (I was a weird kid), and I knew that poems were full of hidden meanings and metaphors. My favorite poem was Frost's "The Road Not Taken", and I had spent months interpreting it literally (and freaking out about walking in the woods) before my mother explained to me that it was a metaphor for choosing a path in life. That was a revelation for a six-year-old, as you might imagine. So why should the Bible be any different, I began to wonder?
To my parents' credit, they answered my questions thoughtfully. Despite being raised SBs themselves, neither was inclined toward the literal interpretation of the Bible that others in my family were. My father told me about the play "Inherit the Wind", and how he'd always liked the idea that one of God's days could be a billion years long, and that could explain dinosaurs and evolution. So you see, my parents taught me very early to think for myself and to interpret the written word carefully. I doubt they realized how powerful a lesson that was for me.
My church years were uncomfortable, generally. I never fully accepted the teachings of the SB church, which seemed to me to be overly literal, too black-and-white, and often hateful. I occasionally went to church with friends who were Presbyterians, and was shocked at how pleasant the experience was. I didn't leave angry or feeling guilty. But I still didn't buy it. Religion just didn't make sense to me, no matter how much I thought about it, nor how much I wanted it to make sense.
When I was 14 years old, I met my first atheist, a senior in my high school, a friend of a friend. I was shocked at first -- how could someone not believe in God? I could understand hating religion, or even hating God, but not believing there was a God at all? It was a new idea for me, something I'd never even considered before. It was frightening to consider it, because it meant giving up on many of the things that had been part of my life.
But it was also very appealing. No more pretending at church. No more having to rationalize and qualify religion, even while I disagreed with the words being said. No more pretending to pray, all the while wondering why these idiots thought God would care about the outcome of a band competition. No more having to justify being friends with Jews or gay people (I'm serious, that was an issue). I could just let it all go, and accept the world for what it was. My family had stopped going to church years before, after my parents got divorced, so it wasn't like I was used to going every Sunday and would miss people.
So I accepted it one morning in tenth grade: I was an atheist. It was a strange relief. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I had a new outlook on life! In some twisted way, I finally understood what people meant when they talked about being "born again".
Still, it was two years before I could say the words out loud: "I'm an atheist." I still have not told my parents, though I'm pretty sure they know. We simply don't discuss it. I look back now and realize I haven't really been a Christian since grade school. I had started compartmentalizing religion and reality very early, and letting go of all the religion was very easy.
So given all of this, do I think I understand the perspective of conservative Christians, as
wayfairer seems to? Well, no. I grew up surrounded by conservative Christians, in an extended family of conservative Christians, and constantly hiding my non-belief from them. My parents may have accepted my questioning, but few other people did. I was told on many occasions to sit down and shut up, and stop asking questions. One church elder even suggested Satan was planting all of these questions in my mind. I was eight at the time. I didn't believe him, by the way.So as hard as I try, I can't stop regarding conservative Christians as closed-minded and ignorant, simply because the people around me were just like that. They didn't value education or science; they were highly suspicious of outsiders; they believed everything the preacher said; they were quick to judge; and they did not tolerate anyone questioning their beliefs.
I'm not claiming that all conservative Christians are like that, but I have to admit that most of the ones I've ever met have been. Keep in mind that I go visit my family several times a year, and they are still like that. I love them dearly, but they're homophobic, racist, sexist, and ignorant. Or maybe they're like
wayfairer says: embroiled in a war against the evils of the world. I suppose that "evil" includes me. At least I can put a reasonable face on it for them.
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-08 08:54 am (UTC)I believe that the power of believing can make people to incredible things, whether for good, or evil.
To be honest, I doubt anyone would believe in God if they didn't have to die.
I'm not sure where I stand, exactly, religiously. For now, I believe in a God, though it's not the one organised religion preaches.