This probably won’t come as much of a surprise to the people in my life who know me the best, but I have recently found that I no longer identify as a Christian. It wasn’t really something that I chose consciously, but found that it was happening to me, almost against my will. It had been a long time coming, and quite a difficult journey. I had spent several years in a state of conflict which grew until it felt as if my very self was being torn in two. I desperately wanted answers so that I could believe the right things and be sure that I was on the right path. I tried to figure it all out but no matter how hard I tried, I failed, and as I sat there in the darkness of uncertainty I gave up. I realized that my ability to feel happiness with my life should not be dependent upon my ability to figure out the answers to existential questions which have plagued the human psyche for hundreds of thousands of years. And if after all of those millennia searching no one has been able to agree on the answers, what kind of arrogance would make me think that I could or should do better?
I decided that for one time in my life I would embrace the ambivalence of not knowing and try not to solve this problem. So I sat and waited for something to happen. I had the strong intuition that if I waited for even a few days in that state that something profound would happen. It isn’t exactly that something happened, but to my great surprise, I found that I was simply quite happy with who I was even if I didn’t know the right answers or believe the right things. I was slowly learning to allow myself to be the person I was without judgement or the need to be right. I didn’t really have much of a sense of who I was, but that became okay–and more than okay. And as I waited for something to emerge from that place, I found that very naturally I stepped out of the cocoon of my former faith.
It was a bittersweet feeling, as so much of who I used to be no longer surrounded me and I was exposed to a larger and more colorful world, but also one which was scarier, and less understandable. I had lost my faith one might say, but in an odd way it felt as if I had also discovered my faith for the first time. Previously, I had been so attached to my faith and so afraid of stepping outside of it that I’d never seen it for what it was. And now that I was looking down at the broken pieces that lay at my feet, I saw it all for what it was–and that was beautiful. Old, worn, and broken-in to be sure, but still beautiful. My faith was like a warm coat worn thin through the many winters come and gone. It served me well and protected me from the cold for so long, but summer had arrived and it was time to retire the old garment. Not to discard it and throw it away, for the winter winds will blow again I am sure, but to stow it safely away for when it is needed.
After all of that, I still wonder about who I am. I’m not a Christian, but I still love Christianity, and paradoxically even more deeply than I did before. I find great meaning in the stories and symbolism, and I am not even opposed to the idea of them being true in some metaphorical–or even literal–sense. Something in there is true I am sure, but I’m not able to believe it intellectually the way I did before. Who am I after all to say who God is in any objective sense? I have enough trouble dealing with God subjectively to have the energy to formulate my conception of him for anyone else.
I still enjoy going to church but I find the experience to be so powerful as to give me second thoughts about it. This is one of the main reasons that I’ve stopped attending regularly as I’m a bit scared of being overwhelmed by it all. Last time I was in a church, I found myself face to face with…something…and it simultaneously terrified me out of my wits and was the most beautiful experience of my life. And I’m not sure that I’m ready for that again. It’s all very confusing, but that’s kind of the exciting part! I don’t yet know what to make of all of this, but I suspect there’s a lot to learn and that things will eventually settle down a bit.
I’m not sure where this all leaves me, but I’m happy with wherever I am and whoever I have become, and I will wait and see what happens. The only thing that there has ever been to worry about is what comes next. And right now I’d like to spend some time getting to know myself better so that I can be kinder to myself and others and so that I can follow the next intention whenever it arises. That to me is enough.
As I conclude this short essay, I have to admit that I’m not even entirely sure why I’m writing it or intending to share it. Maybe it’s to allow myself to break my own patterns of self-judgement and to face my fear of other people’s reactions when they discover I’m not the good Christian they thought I was. Or maybe it’s just because I kind of like this story and think it’s worth sharing with others, and that that’s a nice thing to let myself do even if it’s a bit silly and pretentious. I won’t know at any rate till I do it, so why not take a shot in the dark?
24-bit eggplants 