This is an account of my experience and perceptions and not an attack on christians or christianity. I'm not blaming them or it for anything bad that happened in my life, it was an experience and I learned from it.
When I was about 10 a lot of bad stuff happened. My parents separated, we changed schools a lot, bad stuff happened there, my dad became a christian and my mother was an adulterous harlot bound for hell unless she repented and I began having bouts of "bronchitis" which were later diagnosed as acute asthma attacks. It was a tumultuous and confusing time.
The phrase "just because it's different doesn't mean it's wrong" didn't seem to apply to christians. You're either wrong or right and you're either going to hell or heaven. The only way into heaven, as my understanding was, was to ask Jesus into your heart. It was simple enough to do this, and I pretended to on many occasions but I couldn't do it. All one had to do was pray to Jesus and ask him to come into your heart and guide you on the right path into heaven and obey the 10 commandments. (I'm not capitalising "god" because I don't think 'he' deserves it. It's an act of rebellion on my part and I'll probably end up in hell for it.) Christians giving their testimonies about how they found god reported the light and peace of Jesus filling them. They also felt his presence in their mind.
Christians consider it their godly mission to spread god's word to everyone. Many evangelists travelled to backwater developing countries to prey on - er, sorry, to preach to and help - those in need and convert them to christianity. So insidious is the nature of this religion that every non-christian is wrong and they are going to hell. The devil will make them his plaything, even christians partaking in demonic activities were going to hell unless they immediately ask god or Jesus or whoever the heck you're supposed to pray to for forgiveness. Spread god's word and you will be saved. But not even that assures your place in heaven. Nothing does as it up to god's discretion to admit whomever he pleases in the end, and no mere human can hope to presume how he thinks. Evidently our puny brains couldn't comprehend his wisdom, anyhow.
I bought right into it. I was an impressionable 10-11 year old and was so glad dad had brought god into our lives. We were saved from the fiery pits of hell! Although, as kids, we were automatically admitted into heaven. But sitting on the cusp of childhood, I wondered if I was still heaven-bound because I knew right from wrong. I hoped Jesus would come back before I got too old and had to account for my actions. God forbid!
I encountered many different types of christians. There were those who were pretty normal, they just wanted to live good lives and hang out with their churchy friends. There were those who were super happy. They felt god's presence in their lives and joyfully spread his word to anyone who'd listen, and those that didn't needed their mind's opened to receiving god's word. Then there were the super-spiro types. the ones that took it far too seriously, most of them came from or entered into mental institutions - no joke. Some of them were convinced god spoke to and worked directly through them. They were personally chosen by him to heal the sick, spread the word, deliver demons out of people and save people's souls. They heard his voice and possessed his power. These people scared the shit out of me. They had that crazed look in their eye. They never looked at you, they looked through you and you never knew what they were going to do.
One of these super-spiros took me aside after church one day and silently held my arm for a long while. There was no one around and I was freaking out. I thought he could read my mind and would tell me my thoughts were evil. After a few moments he eventually told me that all the bad stuff that had happened, the sickness, my mother's evil, adulterous ways and whatever else was god punishing me for being evil. I was confused. I thought as a kid I was exempt from evilness. But he was filled with god's power, so I accepted it. He went on to tell me god would stop punishing me when I had shown my mother the light, because she was on the path to hell. I believed him and I was terrified for both of us. I didn't want her to go to hell and I especially didn't want her going to hell because I hadn't tried hard enough to set her on the path to salvation!
Mum wasn't interested in my preaching at her. She blithely told me she didn't believe in god in that way. She believed in demonic things such as reincarnation and often indulged in the demonic practices of meditations and tarot cards. My own grandmother was an evil clairvoyant - how on earth was I going to get all these people into heaven?
There were many demonic things I had to renounce to ensure my own salvation. I had to hand over all my beloved books containing anything with magical themes - my cherished copy of Roald Dahl's Matilda being one of them. Anything magical was demonic (I smirk now at christian discourse on the evils of the Harry Potter books and I delighted in the fact I actually enjoyed them when I got around to reading them), and one of my biggest conundrums was not committing the sin of lying because I kept telling people I had actually asked Jesus in my heart when I never actually did. I prayed for forgiveness about it many times, because not only was I lying about it, I hadn't asked Jesus into my heart in the first place. Was I doubly doomed? Did Jesus hate me? Maybe I was still safe in the kidzone, if only I could save my mother from hell then I'd be set.
I fretted so much over Jesus' return to take the faithful 'home' to heaven. According to Sunday school teachers and other christians everywhere, we were in the end times and his return would be soon. Although nobody could presume to know god's will and could therefore never know exactly when this would happen. I hoped his return would be soon, so I might be safe from asking him into my heart while I was still a kid, but not before I'd saved my mother from hell. Why did I not just asked him into my heart and get it over with? I was scared to death about having his presence in my mind and having his light in my heart, but most of all I was terrified I was beyond saving and he wouldn't accept me as one of his own. After all, god saw fit to punish me so, I must've been pretty bad.
All this conflicted greatly with the Bible verse - I forget which one - about god being love. "Those who don't know god, cannot know love for god is love" or some such.
God also likes to test his followers. One of the tests I'd hear the adults talking about was demonic manifestations. It was also a good opportunity for the devil to lure a person back to the dark side. These manifestations, as I understood, were demons manifesting to the loyal christian to test their ability to cast demons out in Jesus' name. Demons can't bear to hear the lord's name and would therefore flee in fear at the mere mention of it. I remember hearing dad talk about his experience where a demon appeared on his bed one night. He cast it out in Jesus name and it scarpered away. It frightened the hell out of me to think there was a demon in the house! What if I saw one and I didn't say Jesus' name with enough conviction to cast it out? Would I become possessed? Holy hell, I was doomed.
When I was about 11, I asked my dad when he thought Jesus would return. He gave me the spiel about no one knowing god's will, but predicted it to be about another 10 years. I freaked out, I'd be an adult by then, better ask Jesus into my heart soon, time was running out. It's now been 20 years and counting...
To me, christianity was a very fear-based religion. Abide god's will OR ELSE. God would punish you, maybe even smite you and you'd end up in hell along with all those you failed to save. But as long as you tried your best, right? I didn't get the impression that was how it worked.
It wasn't until my teens that I began to question the validity of all these godly claims. How were all these evil non-christians nonchalantly getting on with their lives? It didn't look to me as though god was punishing them. They didn't seem to be living in fear of going to hell or seeing demons on their beds in the middle of the night. Some of them even appeared to be living happy, content lives. Was god leading them into a false sense of security? When I looked around I saw more unhappy christians than non christians. Christians did a lot of things non christians did, i.e. smoking, pre-marital sex etc but they did it with a side of guilt.
I began asking questions. My big one of the time was, "If god is all-knowing and powerful, shouldn't he have known that humans would be evil when he gave us all free will?" The answer I mostly received was "we can't know god's will" or the real clanger to answer any difficult question, "god works in mysterious ways." To me the Tower of Babel story made god sound like a vindictive prick. But that was an old testament story and shouldn't be paid much attention. I never did understand why we should pay more attention to the new testament. Why even bother with the old one? The ten commandments to which we all must abide are in the old testament...
From year five to year 9 I was enroled in a christian school. Which was great compared to the crap school I came from. Days at this school began with doctrine - a passage of the bible read and talked about and a prayer. Lessons were given with a christian slant. I can remember one particular doctrine lesson teaching us the J.O.Y principle. If we lived by it we would be happy. We only had to consider Jesus first - what would Jesus do? Then we had to consider Others before we considered You (ourselves). I spent a lot of time wondering what Jesus would do about trivial things, such as deciding what to wear to church.
At about 14 or 15 I started experimenting. I would swear to see what would happen. I'd tell a small white lie. I'd read a book about magical things or ask mum about reincarnation and guess what? Nothing happened. Life went on as normal. I didn't get punished. God didn't send a lightning bolt from the heavens to smite me. Eventually I stopped feeling guilty for questioning god's will and life still goes on.
Today, I don't believe in a christian god. If there was a such an all-powerful being I tend to think it would have better things to do than watch over earth and all its humans. God supposedly endowed us with free will, yet wants to punish anyone who uses it? How does that work.. oops. don't ask questions because god works in mysterious ways.
I don't blame people who buy into it. I actually think the community of christianity is its strongest point. It helps people and some people need it, it gives people purpose and who am I to question that? I accept that they feel it's their duty to spread god's word hither and thither. I've heard god's word and I didn't care for it. Judge me all you want, but remember: "judge not lest ye be judged".
When I was about 10 a lot of bad stuff happened. My parents separated, we changed schools a lot, bad stuff happened there, my dad became a christian and my mother was an adulterous harlot bound for hell unless she repented and I began having bouts of "bronchitis" which were later diagnosed as acute asthma attacks. It was a tumultuous and confusing time.
The phrase "just because it's different doesn't mean it's wrong" didn't seem to apply to christians. You're either wrong or right and you're either going to hell or heaven. The only way into heaven, as my understanding was, was to ask Jesus into your heart. It was simple enough to do this, and I pretended to on many occasions but I couldn't do it. All one had to do was pray to Jesus and ask him to come into your heart and guide you on the right path into heaven and obey the 10 commandments. (I'm not capitalising "god" because I don't think 'he' deserves it. It's an act of rebellion on my part and I'll probably end up in hell for it.) Christians giving their testimonies about how they found god reported the light and peace of Jesus filling them. They also felt his presence in their mind.
Christians consider it their godly mission to spread god's word to everyone. Many evangelists travelled to backwater developing countries to prey on - er, sorry, to preach to and help - those in need and convert them to christianity. So insidious is the nature of this religion that every non-christian is wrong and they are going to hell. The devil will make them his plaything, even christians partaking in demonic activities were going to hell unless they immediately ask god or Jesus or whoever the heck you're supposed to pray to for forgiveness. Spread god's word and you will be saved. But not even that assures your place in heaven. Nothing does as it up to god's discretion to admit whomever he pleases in the end, and no mere human can hope to presume how he thinks. Evidently our puny brains couldn't comprehend his wisdom, anyhow.
I bought right into it. I was an impressionable 10-11 year old and was so glad dad had brought god into our lives. We were saved from the fiery pits of hell! Although, as kids, we were automatically admitted into heaven. But sitting on the cusp of childhood, I wondered if I was still heaven-bound because I knew right from wrong. I hoped Jesus would come back before I got too old and had to account for my actions. God forbid!
I encountered many different types of christians. There were those who were pretty normal, they just wanted to live good lives and hang out with their churchy friends. There were those who were super happy. They felt god's presence in their lives and joyfully spread his word to anyone who'd listen, and those that didn't needed their mind's opened to receiving god's word. Then there were the super-spiro types. the ones that took it far too seriously, most of them came from or entered into mental institutions - no joke. Some of them were convinced god spoke to and worked directly through them. They were personally chosen by him to heal the sick, spread the word, deliver demons out of people and save people's souls. They heard his voice and possessed his power. These people scared the shit out of me. They had that crazed look in their eye. They never looked at you, they looked through you and you never knew what they were going to do.
One of these super-spiros took me aside after church one day and silently held my arm for a long while. There was no one around and I was freaking out. I thought he could read my mind and would tell me my thoughts were evil. After a few moments he eventually told me that all the bad stuff that had happened, the sickness, my mother's evil, adulterous ways and whatever else was god punishing me for being evil. I was confused. I thought as a kid I was exempt from evilness. But he was filled with god's power, so I accepted it. He went on to tell me god would stop punishing me when I had shown my mother the light, because she was on the path to hell. I believed him and I was terrified for both of us. I didn't want her to go to hell and I especially didn't want her going to hell because I hadn't tried hard enough to set her on the path to salvation!
Mum wasn't interested in my preaching at her. She blithely told me she didn't believe in god in that way. She believed in demonic things such as reincarnation and often indulged in the demonic practices of meditations and tarot cards. My own grandmother was an evil clairvoyant - how on earth was I going to get all these people into heaven?
There were many demonic things I had to renounce to ensure my own salvation. I had to hand over all my beloved books containing anything with magical themes - my cherished copy of Roald Dahl's Matilda being one of them. Anything magical was demonic (I smirk now at christian discourse on the evils of the Harry Potter books and I delighted in the fact I actually enjoyed them when I got around to reading them), and one of my biggest conundrums was not committing the sin of lying because I kept telling people I had actually asked Jesus in my heart when I never actually did. I prayed for forgiveness about it many times, because not only was I lying about it, I hadn't asked Jesus into my heart in the first place. Was I doubly doomed? Did Jesus hate me? Maybe I was still safe in the kidzone, if only I could save my mother from hell then I'd be set.
I fretted so much over Jesus' return to take the faithful 'home' to heaven. According to Sunday school teachers and other christians everywhere, we were in the end times and his return would be soon. Although nobody could presume to know god's will and could therefore never know exactly when this would happen. I hoped his return would be soon, so I might be safe from asking him into my heart while I was still a kid, but not before I'd saved my mother from hell. Why did I not just asked him into my heart and get it over with? I was scared to death about having his presence in my mind and having his light in my heart, but most of all I was terrified I was beyond saving and he wouldn't accept me as one of his own. After all, god saw fit to punish me so, I must've been pretty bad.
All this conflicted greatly with the Bible verse - I forget which one - about god being love. "Those who don't know god, cannot know love for god is love" or some such.
God also likes to test his followers. One of the tests I'd hear the adults talking about was demonic manifestations. It was also a good opportunity for the devil to lure a person back to the dark side. These manifestations, as I understood, were demons manifesting to the loyal christian to test their ability to cast demons out in Jesus' name. Demons can't bear to hear the lord's name and would therefore flee in fear at the mere mention of it. I remember hearing dad talk about his experience where a demon appeared on his bed one night. He cast it out in Jesus name and it scarpered away. It frightened the hell out of me to think there was a demon in the house! What if I saw one and I didn't say Jesus' name with enough conviction to cast it out? Would I become possessed? Holy hell, I was doomed.
When I was about 11, I asked my dad when he thought Jesus would return. He gave me the spiel about no one knowing god's will, but predicted it to be about another 10 years. I freaked out, I'd be an adult by then, better ask Jesus into my heart soon, time was running out. It's now been 20 years and counting...
To me, christianity was a very fear-based religion. Abide god's will OR ELSE. God would punish you, maybe even smite you and you'd end up in hell along with all those you failed to save. But as long as you tried your best, right? I didn't get the impression that was how it worked.
It wasn't until my teens that I began to question the validity of all these godly claims. How were all these evil non-christians nonchalantly getting on with their lives? It didn't look to me as though god was punishing them. They didn't seem to be living in fear of going to hell or seeing demons on their beds in the middle of the night. Some of them even appeared to be living happy, content lives. Was god leading them into a false sense of security? When I looked around I saw more unhappy christians than non christians. Christians did a lot of things non christians did, i.e. smoking, pre-marital sex etc but they did it with a side of guilt.
I began asking questions. My big one of the time was, "If god is all-knowing and powerful, shouldn't he have known that humans would be evil when he gave us all free will?" The answer I mostly received was "we can't know god's will" or the real clanger to answer any difficult question, "god works in mysterious ways." To me the Tower of Babel story made god sound like a vindictive prick. But that was an old testament story and shouldn't be paid much attention. I never did understand why we should pay more attention to the new testament. Why even bother with the old one? The ten commandments to which we all must abide are in the old testament...
From year five to year 9 I was enroled in a christian school. Which was great compared to the crap school I came from. Days at this school began with doctrine - a passage of the bible read and talked about and a prayer. Lessons were given with a christian slant. I can remember one particular doctrine lesson teaching us the J.O.Y principle. If we lived by it we would be happy. We only had to consider Jesus first - what would Jesus do? Then we had to consider Others before we considered You (ourselves). I spent a lot of time wondering what Jesus would do about trivial things, such as deciding what to wear to church.
At about 14 or 15 I started experimenting. I would swear to see what would happen. I'd tell a small white lie. I'd read a book about magical things or ask mum about reincarnation and guess what? Nothing happened. Life went on as normal. I didn't get punished. God didn't send a lightning bolt from the heavens to smite me. Eventually I stopped feeling guilty for questioning god's will and life still goes on.
Today, I don't believe in a christian god. If there was a such an all-powerful being I tend to think it would have better things to do than watch over earth and all its humans. God supposedly endowed us with free will, yet wants to punish anyone who uses it? How does that work.. oops. don't ask questions because god works in mysterious ways.
I don't blame people who buy into it. I actually think the community of christianity is its strongest point. It helps people and some people need it, it gives people purpose and who am I to question that? I accept that they feel it's their duty to spread god's word hither and thither. I've heard god's word and I didn't care for it. Judge me all you want, but remember: "judge not lest ye be judged".
