eternity is scary #

I remember sitting in church as a little boy, maybe 6 years old. Without fail, nearly every sermon would end with a mention of eternity, the threat of hell, and the call to spend it in heaven with God [1]. And without fail I would feel dread building up to the end, hoping he wouldn’t talk about eternity again.

we aren’t compatible with eternity #

I remember being very afraid of the idea of eternity. Everything in life has a beginning and an end. You push the power button on the Nintendo, the game starts. You push the power button again, it stops. The idea of something going on forever and ever is unnatural and unfounded in reality. It profoundly scared me.

Our lives are lived in rhythm. The cycle of our days revolving around the sun. Our circadian rhythm and the need to sleep. The seasons changing documenting a longer span of time. Our bodies aging. Dying. For there to be no time, no sun, no cycles, isn’t something our brains can objectively grasp. It’s not in our wiring.

back to my roots #

As I’ve deconstructed the years of Christian indoctination, I’ve found myself back with the thoughts I had as a child. Now instead of doing mental gymnastics and applying rules to make a Christian worldview fit, I’ve embraced the simple finality of life.

how my understanding has changed #

I find comfort in knowing that when I die, that’s it. Lights off.

I don’t worry about how eternity is going to work, what relationships in heaven are going to be like, if my pets are going to be there, sin (and its too many paths of thought to list), if I’ve angered the person who decides if I get in, if I’m tithing enough, if I’m serving enough, if I’ve shared the gospel enough, if I’ve prayed the right way, what hell is like, making sure I didn’t miss the rapture, what job I’ll have in heaven, if we’ll even have jobs in heaven, what happens when I want a new job, trying to find meaning and purpose in life, or the pressure of performance leading to whether God will say “well done good and faithful servant.” [2]

Being grounded in life frees me to live in the present, to have a much greater desire to help people because of the urgency and finality of life, to treat people well because I might not get another chance, and to give much more patience and understanding because there’s no divinely inspired set of rules I don’t understand but am expected to follow.

this all came from yet another failed rapture prediction #

I’m not waiting on the hope of a savior coming back to make things right [3]. I’m doing what I can now because it’s my responsibility in the short time I have.

no, everything doesn’t happen for a reason #

I don’t need God to make sense of the things I don’t understand; I’m okay with not understanding [4]. I don’t search for deeper hidden meaning when something happens outside of my control. There is no divine reason, no divine purpose. No one is up there silently controlling all of the aspects of our lives [5]. Our lives are a tiny spec of insignificance in the vastness of a universe we only comprehend a tiny part of. We won’t be remembered within the story of the cosmos.

We’re responsible for how we respond to the limited number of choices and possibilities in front of us.

morals without God #

Without the fear of punishment, I’m free to be a good person because I want to help people, not because I’m afraid of judgement and hell [6].

Along with several other reasons, that’s why I’m not a Christian. It brings me comfort and peace to not believe [7].

[1] Apart from the disgusting manipulation of threatening an eternity in hell, does Christianity ever really get away from the fear of death? Many religions, at least many Abrahamic ones, offer the promise of victory over death; eternal life away from the pressures and pain of this life. Its major selling points offer fairy tale answers to our deepest fears and problems, rather than helping us learn to accept our difficult but common experiences like death, aging, and illness; all things we share in common. Maybe that’s why people like Mother Teresa and Mister Rogers were so impactful, because they didn’t try to magically whisk people away from their suffering with the promises of healing or prosperity through the gospel.

[2] And isn’t this all just craziness to think about? So many questions all from misinterpretations of a few passages in the Bible. I remember being told answers to every one of these questions. As a child it’s okay to just say okay I don’t get it, but I trust you. However, as an adult, the answers all require more mental gymnastics to make sense of them. There has to come a time when you let go of blind faith and question the things you’re told. Don’t get me started on the idea that we have to “become like children and not try to understand” (that sounds all too manipulative to keep people in). Very little makes sense of Christianity once you start to think critically about it. Even less makes sense when you start to dig into what the authors of the Bible may have meant when they wrote what they did, then compare that with what the modern church believes.

[3] Isn’t it always strange how when yet another rapture prediction comes and goes, the ones who believe in it assume that it didn’t happen because something was wrong with the prediction, rather than them just not making the cut? Maybe it did happen and they just weren’t picked. Nope, that didn’t cross their mind because they’re self-centered.

[4] It used to really bother me when someone would say, “everything happens for a reason” after they hear something painful or disappointing being expressed. What I’ve now realized is that sentiment comes from a worldview that there’s an ultra sovereign God guiding the outcome of life on earth. That we aren’t in control. But I do agree at the core of the message, that we aren’t in control. We effectively only have a limited set of choices in front of us at any given point in time. The part I disagree with is that people who use that phrase are usually also victims to their circumstances. They think there’s someone up in the cosmos somewhere controlling the good and bad things in life. WHY DID GOD DO THIS TO ME?! I CAN’T HANDLE ANY MORE OF THIS! Oh, and “God never gives you more than you can handle.” Blah. It’s a cop out, but it’s a cop out based on a worldview that you have to surrender your life to God, which is the basis for evangelical Christianity. What happens once you’ve surrendered control and your life is still challenging? “God is giving you trials and tribulations to strengthen your faith and bring about perfection in your character.” But when does that end, and why does he do that more for some and not for others? Because they need more work? BS. Again, mental gymnastics to make a worldview fit rather than accepting the simple answer, that there isn’t someone authoring life for us or guiding us to the ultimate goal of being “perfect” someday. It’s all a framework to make sense of life for people who can’t accept that it can be difficult and painful. They never consider that the author of Ecclesiastes meant what they originally wrote; that life is meaningless. The last part after that is an addition. The original book ends with life is meaningless.

[5] The other issue with evangelicals believing everything is external to them is believing “temptation” is being brought by the devil. For example, rather than accepting that yes, it’s normal to be attracted to people other than your spouse, that it’s normal to feel sexual feelings, they make it into something they have to war against and fight, as if it’s coming from an external entity or needs to be healed. It’s much easier to choose to not engage with those thoughts and feelings when you understand it’s a normal and healthy part of being a human, rather than something you need to fight. Or, if you and your spouse are into that (my spouse and I aren’t), then you can do so without feeling like you’re breaking some sacred decree from on high. There are several different communities which create safe and respectful places for people to explore those desires, free from shame, and often teaching what consent and safety in sexual relationships are all about (which doesn’t often happen within sexually repressed Christian communities). Additionally, on the topic of sexual repression, there is a clear correlation between communities that oppress sexuality and the sexual abuse and grooming of minors. If those communities spent as much effort working on fixing the oppression as they do serving shame or covering up the abuse, we might not have nearly the occurence of stories of adults who were abused as minors but were afraid of saying anything because the culture was prime for it.

[6] The use of “all goodness and love come from God and apart from him you can do nothing” to justify self-righteousness is hypocritical bullshit; an understanding of the world based on idealogical self-centeredness. No, the world wasn’t created for your enjoyment and dominion. Jesus didn’t die for you. You don’t matter in the grand scheme of things (but you can make a difference with your life).

[7] With all of that said, after all of the ranting and my issues with Christianity, if someone believes in the Christian God, and that helps them feel better about life, then good for them. If that’s what they need to make sense of this life, then I’m glad they have that. The issue, for me, ultimately comes down to evangelicals believing their way is the only way, their God is the only God, and the need to impose their religion on the world around them. And yes, I understand there are several evangelical Christians who don’t believe they have the only way, but way more do and they’re fucking it up for everyone else. We’ve seen with Christians who think marriage is only between one man and one woman, trans people are just confused, that abortion is murder (which frankly is a manipulation to guide christians to vote republican; but more on that some other time), or that books need to be banned because they’re destroying people’s minds with impurity, make a clear effort to “save” the world by trying to apply their rules to everyone else. Your religion and its rules are for you and those in your religion, and no one else. Once you start telling me that someone else’s understanding of the universe is wrong, then you lost me. I can tolerate your belief system if it doesn’t bleed over into anyone else. Once it does we have an issue. I can’t abide someone’s holy crusade to make the world like them.

Even more now we’re seeing Christian Nationalism make it’s way into the mainstream. Christian Nationalism is rooted in Evangelical Christianity’s need to dominate everything else.