Unraveling My Faith

Photo by Stephen Ainsley

It all started when I pulled one loose thread from the fabric of the belief that had been woven around me when I was growing up. This fabric had protected me, warmed me and gave me comfort when I was yet a child and had not yet formed my own convictions.

I guess I was around 14 or 15 at that time when I noticed a few loose ends. It was at a national inter-church summer camp in Baguio City. I tugged a bit at those ends. I had a long discussion with my best friend. We threw around questions like “Why would an all-knowing God create Lucifer in the first place when he knew he would rebel against him? How come God put the forbidden fruit in the garden when he already knew that man would fail the test and take a bite from it? What if you were born in a remote place and you never heard about Jesus? Would it be fair for God to throw you in hell because of that?”

We went back and forth with these questions, trying to find answers from the Bible, from our own experience, and from what we had heard from other church leaders. We discussed these issues until way past midnight and even brought them up to a pastor the next day.

Looking back, my goal at that time was not so much to seek the truth no matter what, but to find a position of defensible comfort within my belief system. And so when the pastor replied with — “You know, I look at it this way. We are like people standing behind an expert painter creating a masterpiece. While he is still working on the painting, we don’t understand it. We see that some parts are dark and some strokes look ugly. But when the master is done and the final work is revealed, we will marvel at how wonderful it is” — I accepted that reply even if it really didn’t answer the question. I was contented enough with it and accepted that my puny mind could never comprehend the infinite wisdom of God. I ignored those loose ends and left them there, assured that all will be revealed and make sense when I died and went to heaven.

Fast forward to a just a few years ago. I was in my mid-thirties, had gone through  tremendous swings in my spiritual journey, had married and had 3 kids, had experienced dealing with many different kinds of people, had a richer and wider view of reality than I had when I was a pimply teenager. I saw those loose threads. They were still there. They didn’t go away no matter how I tried to ignore them.

So I started to pull again. I started asking questions in an earlier blog I made. So now I had a wider audience — not just Christians and pastors but really different people with different beliefs. And I found out two things — one is that there were many people like me, on their own journey of unraveling the threads of their beliefs, and the other is that the Christian answers to the questions were more or less the same ones I had received as a teen — and they no longer satisfied me. To paraphrase from the Apostle Paul — the answers were milk when what I needed was meat. It was like feeding baby food to an adult.

Because I wasn’t satisfied, I continued pulling and it became a bit scarier because the fabric was beginning to tear and my skin was showing beneath it. I worried about how others would see me. I wondered about those who read my blog and what they thought about me: “Oh he’s backsliding” or “he’s being deceived by the devil” or “he should really stop this or God will stop blessing him.”

I think I stopped pulling for a while when I began to get numerous reactions, even calls from close relatives and friends who were “concerned” and “praying for me.” I didn’t want to rock the boat that much yet.

But in the end, my desire for truth outweighed everything else. Jesus rightly said, “the truth will set you free,” and I wanted so badly to be free. And so I decided to pursue the truth — even if that truth said that the Jesus I believed in was a lie. I started pulling harder at the strings and fabric unraveled faster. I might have lost a few relationships because of this but those that have remained no matter what, I cherish as true friends.

Now, only a few tatters remain from the tapestry of faith that once covered me, but I have never felt happier, have never felt more joy and at peace with myself. I no longer wonder whether what I do is God’s will for me or not. I am no longer tormented by guilt that I have not prayed enough or have not nurtured my relationship with God enough. The responsibility for my life is mine alone. I accept it and lay blame at no one’s feet when things go wrong. No more asking, “Why God?” No more clutching at false hope and prayer, but simply accepting what comes today and then moving forward to create a better tomorrow.

My only regret, perhaps, is not pulling those strings sooner and having tasted this freedom earlier in my life, because the unraveling of my belief has left me stark naked to all the wonder the universe has to offer.

The truth has finally set me free.

 

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This article also appears in zenbananas.com

24 comments

  1. Hi Andy! Few months ago, I've read your article titled "middle ground" and I even commented on it! Your article perfectly described my former position. But recently, also a few months ago, I had a personal enlightenment regarding the nature of my belief not just about God, but also about the world.

    You might be interested in Pantheism. Pantheism accommodates both theistic and atheistic claims but it rejects the shallow anthropomorphic version of what the divine really is. Spinoza's Pantheism would be like God and the universe/nature is actually the same while Dawkins thinks that Pantheism is just "sexed up atheism."

    Personally, I think that the God most people know in religion, is just a finite personification of something… infinite. But as time goes by, the way I see the world, the universe, and our places in it began to change as my mind matures into something more abstract and integral. Then I realized that I can't help anymore but demand a better aspect of things than the "Omnniscient, omnipotent, omnibenevolent ruler of the world mentality." It just became absurd and it didn't make sense anymore. I do acknowledge that for a time, Christianity helped be become a better person. But now that my thinking has grown more mature and has taken another direction, it's not the best view anymore for me.

    I deconverted so that I may be able to widen my perspective, and to expand my morality circle so I can include everyone in the picture. I deconverted not only because I want to experience freedom and life more, but also to live a life of virtue, compassion, and happiness while trying to manifest what I've learned by being careful and critical with my thoughts, with my words, and with my actions.

    Deconversion is a very painful metamorphosis. But as with every metamorphosis, something more beautiful will come out of it. I gained a new orientation towards life and never have I felt more alive and in-sync with my self, and with the universe.

    PS: If you have the time: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kAIpRRZvnJg. It's an inspirational animated short about non-belief. Just thought you might appreciate it as well. Check out their YouTube channels as well. QualiaSoup and TheraminTrees make awesome uploads and explanations about atheism and critical thinking.

    Kudos to you and may you find what you are looking for.

    • Hi Detger,

      I've explored pantheism, mainly as a result of reading Conversations with God by Neale Donald Walsch. I am actually still open to it. However, since there is no concrete evidence for it either, I just default to withholding belief until something about it convinces me.

      But yes, if I were a theist, I'd probably be a pantheist.

      • "…if I were a theist, I'd probably be a pantheist."

        You can be an atheist and at the same time a pantheist! I consider myself a borderline atheist and I think believing in an impersonal god or at least feeling interconnected with the rest of the world is not mutually exclusive with atheism. According to what I've read, you can be either an atheistic pantheist or a theistic pantheist.

        But I believe that it doesn't matter what label you put on your beliefs whatever you call it. A single terminology is never enough to fully describe one's subjective belief.

        I used to be frustrated when people ask me "so are you an atheist?" I usually end up answering "hindi eh pero oo" lol. Now, I just tell them na "I am not a Catholic anymore in terms of beliefs"

        Just wanted to tell you that I am sincerely thank you for posting "Middle ground" and this one as well, here. Coincidentally, just when I was leaving my middle ground, I surprisingly found this article.

  2. i can relate. an atheist, i was a deist then when i pulled those strings. a deist for about 5 minutes. haha. deists simply removed the dogma, but lactates still from the idea opened by theology. an idea yet to prove itself valid.

    • Thanks. I actually went from conservative evangelical Christian, to Charismatic Christian, to toying around with buddhism, zen, pantheism, then agnostic/atheist.

      • Ha. As you should be. It is not my approval, though. It is God's. Mine is just faith that we are not here to beg to God, or curse Him, or even praise him overmuch, for He is pretty self-contained and confident, but to serve mankind, and thereby represent God as a fairly decent Fellow to have granted us that privilege.

        Cheers.

          • Ah, you be gonna trap me now. It is my faith that allows me to believe all that stuff. I'm just letting you know as a matter of galactic kindness. But the nice thing about the Church of Man, which is where I worship, is that we have no recruitment, no buildings, no priests, no rites, and no doctrine other than confidence in Man and kindness. And we don't care what your particular individual belief is. We are fluid in that regard. Still, we believe in God because we are here. Kinda Descartes-like.

          • Well, clearly you have studied and thought about this. I figure if it is good enough for Thomas Jefferson, it is good enough for me. God in my mind is a complete mystery, so I have no idea if He cares or not what we believe. But my faith attaches to the need to have confidence and kindness to prevent us from [a) running out and committing suicide and [b] impel us to good deeds, for the good of us all, respectively.

          • Well, I personally want to draw my own conclusions and not rely on what others think — not to say that yours is not a valid position — I mean, if that works for you, sure go ahead — but it's not for me, not anymore.

          • An interesting read…however, this seems to be a simple deist position.

            As I understand it, in that view, I may or may not believe in god, and it doesn't really matter to him/her/it.

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