As you might imagine, I get all kinds of odd looks when I state that I am a Bible student, but not a Christian. Even old acquaintances and family friends scratch their heads when I say I went to Bible school and graduated as an agnostic. So, what went wrong? In this post, I would like to address why I left Christianity. I also wish to touch on what I believe and why I am still pursuing this field of study.
I think a very common misconception, concerning those who convert or deconvert, is that there is suddenly this great “A-ha!” moment. One suddenly connects the dots and knows whether God is real or not. This is not the case. We owe this misconception to both Christian and anti-Christian media. It sure does make for a great story! But oftentimes, the greatest stories are not ones that occur in reality.
Losing my faith was not an easy process. I never wanted to renounce Christianity. I wanted the convictions I held since childhood to remain true until my deathbed and beyond. I was not living in denial, by the way; I was living in undesired ignorance. I could never question my faith because doing so is a sin, I was taught. Growing up in a conservative, Christian home, attending church twice a week, and being homeschooled sure did a number on me. Here, I will discuss how I overcame this.
Beginnings – My Quest for Answers
I have told the story a million times, both in real life and here on Living by the Logos. Just after I turned eighteen, I faced the very beginning of my greatest suffering. Shortly after graduating high school and beginning full-time college, my loving mother, true follower of Christ, was diagnosed with stage four liver cancer. At the time, I was very devout. I attended my own church, went to one of the most conservative Christian universities in the country, and prayed daily. Might I add, I studied political science that one semester (yuck!).
But when my mother received her diagnosis, my entire world was turned upside down. Immediately after hearing the news, depression entered my body, where it has remained ever since. I collapsed on the floor in my bedroom, bawling my eyes out. “God, how could you do this? Why her? Why me?” I cried. I had not the slightest idea what the problem of suffering was in that moment, but I know now that I was begging it. In that moment, my life’s journey began.
I was heavily inspired by Lee Strobel’s book The Case for Christ at the time. For those who do not know, Lee Strobel was a staunch atheist who launched an investigation into the Gospels to disprove Jesus and the Christian faith as a whole. In his investigation, he consulted numerous biblical scholars who all wooed him. He concluded his case by accepting Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior. I must admit, I still hold a high degree of respect for Strobel, even if I disagree with him.
I took inspiration from Strobel and launched my own investigation into the Christian faith. However, I was already a Christian; my goal was not to disprove, but to prove that God always has a reason for our suffering. I knew for certain that my case would allow me to grow closer to Christ and heal the wounds that grew from the sickness and eventual death of the most important person in my life. I knew God was real, God cared, and I would show the world that this rang true.
However, I did not have faith in my faith. There was certainly a degree of skepticism regarding God’s care for our suffering, and this must be noted. Although I believed God had reasons for suffering, these reasons were hidden from me. As I began to ask fellow churchgoers, past and present, why God would allow my mother to suffer, I began to notice a common theme. These answers were far from satisfactory, and I knew there was something else buried deeply in the Bible. I was determined to find these answers.
The Case Builds (And So Does My Skepticism)
As I studied at Liberty University, it seemed as though I was only getting farther from the answers I was after. The courses I took never touched on God’s allowance of suffering. The problem of suffering? I discovered this through extracurricular research my sophomore year. I tried to find answers, but instead I constantly received information on why the Bible has one unified narrative.
Now, Liberty requires its students to uphold their fundamentalist standards in all papers, projects, and presentations. I remember one of the worst classes I took, Introduction to Church History Survey I. One of the assignments was to write a brief summary of church history since 33 CE (or AD by Liberty standards). For this assignment, I had points deducted because I mentioned the Crusades and the Inquisition (how dare I mention two of the church’s most notorious and evil acts!).
The classes I took at Liberty never provided any insight into the problem of suffering. All of the knowledge I do possess of it, I gained outside of school. Needless to say, this was a massive part of my deconversion. I took up this study to explore theodicy, yet I only received training on defending the fundamentalist faith. It was not all useless; I use this knowledge now to pigeonhole this toxic narrative and expose the flaws of evangelicalism. But I did not find what I sought at Liberty.
In Death, I Found My Answer
Last year was an extremely difficult year for me. I have written extensively on my psychosis, relapse, and suicide attempts. Why? Because these are the events that truly made me realize how destructive organized religion, Christianity in particular, has been in my life. Much of my psychosis was religious; I saw demons, I heard voices, and the greatest cross I bore was that I had renounced my faith, and as such, God was punishing me.
Early last year is when I came to the conclusion that I could no longer defend the God of Christianity. As I read the book of Amos, seeing the destruction God caused his own nation, along with its neighbors, I realized that the God of the Old Testament is not just wrathful; he is pure evil. Mind you, Satan did not exist in the Old Testament, so we cannot attribute death and destruction to God’s archnemesis.
Additionally, about these scriptures… Are they really perfect and inerrant? How can the church be so certain? We do not have the original manuscripts. We have copies of copies of copies of copies of copies. Seeing that, for about one thousand years, the Catholic church only allowed its priests to read the Bible… how are we certain that what we have today is not tainted? The answer: we cannot be!
While the Bible is the basis of my life, the foundation of everything I am and do, it is far from perfect. It has been edited. I believe there is valid information within it that can be used to live a happy, healthy life (thus, Living by the Logos), but it is not magical. It does not have all the answers. Moreover, the Bible does not answer the most important question in this life. Once upon a time, I was certain that the Bible contained this answer or answers. But, in fact, although it does deal with the question, it never provides any kind of answer.
You’re a Terrible, Terrible Father
The God of Christianity is frequently compared to a father, both in the scriptures and the church. My actual least favorite song, what I believe to be the worst song ever written, composed, and/or performed, is the cringe-worthy “Good Good Father” by Chris Tomlin. “You’re a good, good father,” the artificial chorus says. But is God a good father? The same God who plagued his own people? The God who, according to the Old Testament, started wars because he was offended? The God who kills the innocent? Is this really a good father?
I never had a good father. My father, who I typically refer to as my sperm donor, is a horrible person and has devastated my life, from birth to now. It is because of him that I drank. It is because of him I struggled with self-image for much of my life. The idea of God being a father at all disturbs me. I cannot reconcile God being a good father when A) he is not good and B) I never had a good father, so how can this comparison provide any meaning to me?
This concept alone I have struggled with for as long as I can remember. The closest solace I found was in Wm. Paul Young’s controversial book, The Shack. In this book, God is portrayed as an African-American mother (one of its biggest controversies; ridiculous). Viewing God as a good, good mother I could understand. I think we all could. Mothers are typically, though not always, more empathetic and caring than fathers. Gender roles aside, I cannot believe that a God who allows innocent children to die of horrid diseases to be a “good, good” God.
Stepping Away, Finding Peace, and Fighting Religion
As I lay in my bed that night I attempted, I apologized to God. I apologized for failing to keep the faith. I apologized for becoming one with the world, rather than one with God. But did the God of Christianity deserve this apology? I think not. I think I deserved the apology. For my entire life, I believed that God was just and good. When I found out that this was not the case, and that the answer (God being a monster) was right in front of me in his own book, it shattered my world.
I abandoned the church shortly after my mother’s death, in the early days of the pandemic. While in my first round of treatment for alcoholism, I learned that the legalism of Christianity was the root cause of most of my struggles. Religious legalism, I can best describe in layman’s terms, is being told, “You must live this way, or God will punish you with eternity in hell.” You are told to act a certain way, or believe something as fact… or else.
Despite this awakening, I continued to hold Christian beliefs, just minus the church. Then I worked for a church. Seeing the inner workings of a church, and how it functions just as any other business, was a major revelation. Seeing how the church continues to be involved in sexual abuse scandals made my blood boil. But it was the prophet Amos who finally made me say, “No more, God.” I realized, through my study of Amos, that God is, indeed, a monster.
The Case Concludes
This has been a very brief overview of why I abandoned Christianity. Let me be clear, I did not want to leave it. I fought to hold these beliefs for almost my entire life. I never wanted to be “that guy” who just denies Christianity. I went into the study of theology, determined that I would grow in my relationship with God and lead others on the same path. I mean this wholeheartedly. But it did not work out that way.
I held onto Christianity with every fiber of strength. But I had to recuse myself. Sometimes, holding on is much harder than letting go. In this case, instead of alleviating my suffering, it took me to the brink of death. I will not say God is dead. I still fully believe that the God of the Bible, the horrific monster he is, is still real. But is he the only God? I don’t think so. Is he the God I want to place my faith in? Hell no! But despite all of this, I have made the Bible the foundation of my life. And it will always be… though not for the reasons I once hoped.