I've been thinking a lot about my Atheism recently, along with reading many posts/blogs about Atheism. A post this morning about another person becoming "saved" at age 11 prompted me to remember my own "saving."
My brother Grady is and has always been big on all things Xtian. It was one warm summer day that he coerced me into "accepting Jesus into my heart." I remember sitting on a tiny stump in our yard (which always felt like me to be a magical place where fairies and goblins were just out of reach) and allowing this to occur. There are two very prevalent memories about this day for me. One is that I had to be coerced into this act. I very distinctly at the age of... 6? remember not wanting to do what Grady so desperately seemed to think I needed to do. Honestly, I don't know if this was because I felt I was being put on the spot, or if I truly had misgivings about the whole business. Either way, I was not enthusiastic about this event, and he had hounded me about it for some time. My second memory is that as soon as I had done this deed and prayed for my own salvation, Grady and his friend Roger ran off to play without me. There I was, newly "saved" and just as unimportant to my brother and his friend as I always had been.
My family had taken me to church my whole life before this afternoon. We sang together as a family at church services, and my mom wrote in my baby book that my favorite Sunday School song as a 2 year-old was "Deep and Wide." I did love the music portion of church, and singing was really the only part of the service I liked. Weddings, funerals and Sunday mornings bored me to tears, and although I made valiant efforts to pay attention and read The Bible, I never felt a thing.
Oh sure, I felt some of the same euphoria back then that other church-goers experience when they are singing. At least I think I did. I do remember always wondering why I couldn't feel God's love the way others seemed to. They say there is a "God Area" of the brain, and music plays a big part in fostering that euphoria people feel when attending church. This "God Area" makes people feel a presence other than themselves and other humans, and this is how people "know" there is a God. Maybe my "God Area" never developed.
I know I am not alone in this, but so often I felt awkward in church. The raising of hands, the speaking in tongues and the long exaggerated prayers felt empty to me. I always felt that I was playing a part, and ended up pretending I had experienced certain feelings and experiences when I actually had not. Eventually I ended up going to a quieter church next door to the ministry choice of my family where my best friend attended. It was a place where I could ponder these teachings without being buffeted by the evangelical music and over-emphasized, emphatic pleas to God. It was here that I began to try to read The Bible in earnest, prayed for my sins to be taken away, and even helped create a music program so that I could perform. But, alas, even these experiences did not bring God to me.
It has taken me many years to unwind all of the church's teachings from my mind, and to find who I truly am. I think back now on all of these experiences of my youth, and wonder what life would have been like for me if I had not felt the need to play along. When you are told something is the truth, and when you fear retribution for not following, you try like crazy to conform. This has lasting consequences that take years to erase.
I can honestly say that I am here today a strong, happy man. Confident in what I do not believe. Assured that I can be (and AM) good without God.
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