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brightgnosis · 5 months

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I'm really sorry if this is the wrong way to ask this but here it goes:

How did you find the Jewish community and know it was for you? And what's been your favorite thing to learn about/during your conversion?

I've always had Jewish friends online on and off growing up- and one of my favorite things to talk about has always been Theology. So it's natural that you get to talking Theology with your friends, especially when you're of different religious backgrounds. And there were a lot of times that they'd explain some Jewish belief to me and I'd have a sort of ⁉️‼️ moment, because the belief was either exactly what I believed, or incredibly close to what I believed.

But y'know, I was Pagan. I didn't know any Jewish people in physicality. I didn't have a Synagogue near me. I didn't have transportation. And "there were so many rules" (which is such a very leftover Culturally Christian mindset in the end). So it never went anywhere, really, save for the occasional article read.

Then I found out thanks to DNA testing that my family lied about pretty much 90% of what they'd ever told me "we were" ethnically, and I got access to a lot more records than I'd ever managed to find access to previously. Established contact with family members I'd never even knew existed, etc. And I found out that we weren't "Native American" like I'd been told, and had been actively chasing information for my entire life ... I was roughly ~3 (4?) generations down from Ukrainian Ashkenazi immigrants who'd left the Pale in the 1890's 🙃 Which was absolutely mindblowing to me, because my family had never once ever mentioned this. Ever. Never. (Though when I finally got the opportunity to confront my Aunt about it, she was all like "oh yeah, they used to talk about their life "In Russia" all the time!" ... Like ???? Thanks ????)

Anyways. That made me finally start looking into Judaism a lot more seriously- at minimum, to find out what it was my Ancestors potentially lived while in Ukraine, and ultimately likely left behind when they immigrated. Especially since I was already kind of in an in-between state where I was trying to figure out where on Earth to go after leaving Irish Reconstructionism because of the toxicity, anyways. And it was like ... The more I read about it, the more my Soul was just singing. I really don't know how else to explain it.

Like, the Gods made me happy, sure. And the faiths I'd been a part of had always allowed me an opportunity to "live by my beliefs". But nothing had really truly resonated so deep in my bones like this did. And the more I learned, the more I just knew, so deep within myself, that it was literally what I'd been looking for the whole time- and why I'd never really completely given up on God after leaving the Church when I was younger, and kept finding weird paths back to It.

Then I found out we actually had a Synagogue here where I lived, and so I started trying to contact them. And in the meantime I found out about Noahidism and started practicing that while studying. And I just ... Kept this faith that HaShem would open the way when it was time. And that did happen; I eventually managed to make contact with my local Synagogue after trying for 2 years, and they bounced me off to a Reform Rabbi- who very kindly bounced me off to a Conservative Rabbi who happened to be in full support of Interfaith marriages ... And here I am! And I literally have no words for how incredibly wonderful this entire journey has been, and how exciting and fulfilling it's been to learn, and to go to events, and to become integrated into Jewish life and my (two!) communities; I adore my Rabbi, and what my Synagogue is doing, and the people I've met.

I love ... Everything that I've learned about. I can't pick a favorite. I truly can't. But I feel most connected to Jewish Ecospirituality, I think; books like 'God in the Wilderness'. The way Maimonides and Breslov speak about Nature. My experiences using the old Sailboat Launch at the Lake, here, as a Mikveh. The concept of Humanity and the Torah as Trees- and the imagery of HaShem as an Orchardist. The entire story of Genesis, the creation of Chava and Adam, and their instillation in (and subsequent exile from) the paradise of Gan Eden. “If you have no Tallit, wrap yourself in the four corners of the Earth and pray”. Tu B'Shvat ... Everything; the entire way that Judaism is so intrinsically and deeply connected to Nature at its very core, and the way you fundamentally cannot separate either HaShem or Humankind from the Earth, is breathtaking and sings to me in the same way that Judaism as a whole sings to me.

I have never felt this way about any religious community I've tried to be a part of in my life. And I think that speaks testament to how right this path has been for me, and how HaShem has honored me with it. This all probably sounds like utterly insane ramblings at this point, though, ha!

#genderfluidgothwitch #Answered Asks #2023 Asks #2023 #A Direct Look At My Practice #Just Potential Jewish Convert Things #Witchcraft Asks

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eclipse-song · 8 months

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so reading through the new zine and wow. it's weirdly beautiful in a way that speaks to me a lot. growing up between one half of my family being catholic and the other being baptist (don't ask, they do hate each other) I was always expected to go to the big wig church events when visiting extended family. Mind you, my parents have disconnected themselves from religion, and so did I after a while. I wouldn't say I've been religiously traumatized in a way, but growing up always knowing I was different in some way compared to all the people in the churches around me did something to my mind. And as I found out I was pan, it dawned on me what it meant. I don't go to many church events with extended family for that reason afterwards, but it wrecks my mind in a way.

How can religions- specifically Christianity and all sorts of branching roots and such- claim to be about love and peace, yet so many people be hateful? How can a story about a man who was so unabashedly good- so much so to the point where he's arguably influenced major history events- be the reason for many peoples' prejudice? It's a question I ask myself on the daily. Maybe it's better for me to think less about it.

I dunno, these are all my weird ramblings going on about stuff while reading your Zine. I did genuinely enjoy it though. I suppose making me conjure up all these thoughts does actually do a great service, so compliments, I guess? I dunno.

I'm really glad my zine connected with you!!! I put religious trauma as a warning for people but honestly,,,,I don't know if I can classify myself as traumatized by religion. More like my trauma influenced my perception of religion.

I have a very strange relationship with things where I was raised catholic but my family was never strictly religious. We went to church most sundays but my mom complained about finding a new priest if it was too long or too preachy, and my dad never went to communion and never really explained why outside of not feeling the need to and we were all chill with that. We openly criticized the institution of the catholic church and were really left leaning politically. When Pope Benedict was chosen as the new Pope I was a little kid and watching the news with my uncle. He was a pothead retired DJ who spent half the year living with my grandma and I remember asking him "who's the new Pope?" and he told me "Benny the Rat." and I nodded like I understood what that meant and just thought it was super funny. I luckily never had any super right wing religious people I knew or encountered growing up. In highschool we had the rare conservative teacher but everyone rolled their eyes at them. After a while I just kinda came to terms with "idk what it is strictly out there, I just think it's nice thinking there are things we can't explain and the universe is full of lots of different beasties who can do things and it's much more fun and makes things a lot more interesting that way"

#ask #cw religion #just in case

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themousefromfantasyland · 1 year

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Holy Week for Me

[I choose these images to show how the churches of my childhood used to look like]

I came from a religious family. My parents are still Conservative Evangelicals. I'm sure this is a pleonasm 😂

I feel bad and silly when I say a have a little Religious Trauma. I was pretty sheltered from the wildest side of the church. My parents never forced me to do anything I didn't want to. I never went to any church camps or church-specific vacations.

But I always felt guilty. Because of my sexuality, and just because I felt like I was a bad Christian. I think it was my general disinterest in Church social events that made me feel like that. I never truly felt I belonged with them.

I wanted to prove to God I was a good Christian, so when I was a child, every night, at 8 pm, I would shun myself into my room and read several chapters of the Bible. There was so much other stuff I wanted to do, like just watch cartoons on TV, but I felt too guilty to give up. My parents started bragging about me to their church friends so it was too late for me to stop.

During three to four years I read the Bible to start to finish, and do you want to know what happened? I developed a massive anxiety crisis. That's what happens when you realize your God seems mostly unable to manifest himself as anything beyond plagues, curses, and super deadly things. God punishes. A lot. He enjoys punishing. For everything. From that day on, I was always afraid of God's punishment.

My anxiety grew to a point that made my parents miserable. I couldn't control my obsessive thoughts about Heaven, Hell, Satan, and God.

I was depressed, anxious, and very afraid.

And then came a thought that changed my life forever. What if these stories are just stories?

That sent me on the biggest journey of my life. Suddenly everything I thought I knew about the world and myself had changed. I had a massive existential crisis because of that. But I felt freer than I ever felt.

I stayed agnostic for a couple of years. I didn't want to completely abandon the faith. But when I came out as gay and agnostic to my parents and they start cursing me, telling me I was going to Hell... Let's say my parents did more to drive me away from God than I wanted to.

I was still Conservative around this time, but they made me more of a Progressive.

We are fine now. As long as I never mention my sexuality or lack of faith ever again. Honestly, I don't know what they think. They probably still hope it's just a phase.

This leads me to my point. The first time I ever felt free to assume my sexuality, at least to myself was on a Good Friday. It was in a way, a death and resurrection of my own.

The Holy Week for me it's more than just Jesus. It's "time to revisit my Religious Trauma" week. Okay, I'm not being fair. There's more than trauma. There's Nostalgia. It is a super painful nostalgia.

It's the time of the year when I revisit my childhood, my coming out, and my issues with the religion of my parents.

I watch movies that were special to me growing up like Prince of Egypt, the Ten Commandments, Sampson and Delilah, Noah's Ark, and Jesus films, and realize how disconnected they all seem to me now.

I always loved biblical epics, but these stories are just like my family. They are a world that will never accept me, and I will never fit in. I can just stare into the distance.

It's time to look back at my past and look for the future.

@ariel-seagull-wings @thealmightyemprex @tamisdava2 @the-blue-fairie @amalthea9 @princesssarisa @natache @autistic-prince-cinderella

#holy week #Easter #religious trauma

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adaminabarx · 3 months

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Thoughts on T-Slur Discourse

Who's allowed to say the t-slur discourse seems to be going on right now. Since I’m a 33y/o, non-passing, transexual woman who's been transitioning for about two years I might as well throw in my two cents.

Being a Trans Child in the 90s and 00s Sucked

I was born in 1990, meaning my childhood was in the 90s and my teen years were the 00s. When I was growing up tranny wasn’t even really a slur. Transitioning your sex or gender was so unthinkable that it was just never mentioned in any real capacity. I would occasionally hear about some “freak trannies” that actually went through with a “sex-change operation”. But that’s not me, I’m not a tranny, right? Doing something like that was for someone who was truly depraved and I’m not a freak. I was told I was a boy and that was the end of it. Why would I question it?

Now you might think that I grew up in some hyper conservative, evangelical household. But no, my parents claimed the opposite. They were super liberal (didn’t even vote for reagan in the 80s), we went to a unitarian-universalist church, everywhere I was surrounded by messages of love and acceptance and being true to yourself.

Yet even in this environment, tranny wasn’t a slur. I remember hearing my younger sister in her mean-girl phase saying that other girls in her grade looked like a tranny. Faggot was a slur and would get you in trouble, but tranny was just a light insult that people would casually toss around.

I knew of exactly one trans woman back then. She went to our church and transitioned in her 50s. I was in the youth group with her son and he fucking hated her for being a tranny. He just tried to pretend she didn’t exist. There was one time I got him alone and wanted to ask him some questions about his mom. As soon as he realized what I was getting at he started ranting about embarrassing and selfish it was for her to transition. How fucked up it is that he has to have a tranny for a mom. Keep in mind that this kid was misgendering his mom at every possible point in his rant.

I also remember one time my mom decided to talk about her on the car ride home. She spent the entire ride criticizing the way this trans woman dressed and talking about how she should have “at least” waited until her kids moved out of the house.

This was the attitude towards trans women at a Unitarian Universalist church in the most open, loving, hippy-dippy, liberal part of Minnesota.

Now I could talk for days about how the 90s and 00s were a traumatizing time to be a trans kid. But let’s fast-forward to the present.

I Don’t Pass

This isn’t me being self deprecating. This is a statement of fact. My testosterone-based first puberty did immeasurable damage to my body, mind, and soul. Every day I realize more and more that every facet of my being has been shaped by the trauma of having to go through a testosterone-based puberty and the expectations that come with it.

I don’t pass, I won’t have any chance of passing until I can afford FFS, BA, and various body contouring procedures. That said, don’t come at me with any platitudes about how I don’t have to pass to be valid. That’s not the point. The point is: not passing means I’m a tranny.

I see it in everyone’s face whenever I go out in public. Whether it’s going to the grocery store or hanging out with friends. When people look at me, they see a tranny. When people interact with me, they interact with me as a tranny. No one treats me like they treat women.

And it affects me! I *know* I’m a woman in my heart of hearts. But I don’t feel like a woman, I feel like a tranny. Everyone else sees a tranny so I see a tranny in mirror every morning when I do my skincare. I see my pronounced brow, my cleft chin, my pronounced jaw, the way my lips sit on my face. I see all the markers that people use to make the judgement that I was AMAB and now I’m desperately trying to be a woman.

Kate Passes Perfectly

The place where all this is the most pronounced is actually when I’m in the presence of another trans woman I know, for the sake of this writing I’ll call her Kate. Kate is one of my cousin’s daughter’s friend. She is a 17y/o trans woman who’s been out since she was 9, got on blockers shortly after, then started HRT at 14.

I met Kate at my cousin’s daughter’s graduation party. I had only been fully out for a couple months at this point. I didn’t really even want to go to this grad party, but my extended family and their friends are all “loving” and “accepting” and “open-minded” so I let my cousin convince me to go.

When I arrived it was all eyes. Just a sea of eyes making judgmental glances. And… Like… How could they not stare!? Here I am, a 32 year old tranny dressed in a gaudy black and white outfit wearing what she *thinks* is low-key makeup. Everyone was “nice”—no one actually pointed and went “look a tranny!”—but no one treated me like a woman.

Then at some point Kate came up to me, introduced herself, and immediately told me that she was trans. I didn’t believe her, I thought she was a cis girl setting me up for some cruel joke. But she wasn’t, Kate is just a sweet young woman who was assigned male at birth. Growing up with access to information and positive representation she was able to advocate for herself and avoid the trauma that would’ve come with a testosterone puberty and male expectations.

Being around Kate was shear agony. Nobody, and I mean nobody, misgendered or stared at Kate like a tranny. Here is a young woman living the life I should’ve had. The life I would’ve had, if I had access to less cruel representation. The technology existed when I was her age, I could’ve had this life.

I didn’t have to be a tranny.

Every interaction I had at this grad party was tainted with the fact that I was a tranny. Whether it’s people asking invasive questions; or being way too interested in me; or the classic “he—err, i mean she” pronoun fuck up; or when they smile at me like I’m a homeless man begging for change while they’re loaded with cash and have no intention of parting with a single dime. Even Kate’s interactions with me were because she saw that I was a tranny and wanted to come relate.

That’s not to say I didn’t have any fun, I got a free lunch and I had a couple interesting conversations. People are generally fun to be around and talk to even if I am the token tranny. But I couldn’t stay for long, while being a tranny is better than being a man, it’s still just so hard to bear.

Anyways… About That Slur

So what am I even trying to say with all these ramblings about my trauma? That not even passing transexuals are allowed to say tranny? That I’m the arbiter of who gets to say tranny?

Well, yeah I am.

And also no I’m not.

I mean, I can’t control people and dictate what words they say or what they think. Whether it’s a bigot calling me a tranny freak on the street or one of my extended family members muttering it to themselves when I commit the unforgivable sin of being a little cringe in my 30s.

All I have is my judgement. Take Kate, I can say with quite a bit of certainty that the word tranny has hurt me and stunted my growth more than her. I don’t want to discount any bullying that she’s gone through. But she’s not going to have to go through the horror of watching her body go through changes that are just simply wrong for her. The horror of being held to male expectations and dissociating away her teens and 20s.

So if Kate ever dropped the t-slur around me, it better be in the context of something truly poignant. Anything less and I’ll get pissed. On the other hand, If I’m talking to another trans person of similar age and transition history then I’ll probably be the one to start spouting off “tranny this, tranny that” and end up getting called out.

So when I see people that are non-binary and attractive in the manner that is expected of their assigned gender at birth start talking about reclaiming the t-slur, I don’t want to associate with them. I don’t care if they’re technically “allowed” to say it. Whether or not I confront them about it they lose my respect.

But why should you care about my respect. In all seriousness, you probably don’t. I don’t have any kind of following. And well, I literally just admitted to using conventional attractiveness as one of the measures for whether or not someone can say tranny! I clearly have a lot of self-worth issues that I need to unpack. But it’s true, and if that makes you lose respect for me then so be it. But I suspect that a lot of people hold similar values, even if they don’t want to admit it.

So, where does this leave us? I don’t know. I don’t have any real answers. I’m just some tranny, trying to figure out her life one day at a time. If you really want some kind of prescriptive advice, I’d say: read the room; say what you wanna say; and when (not if) you fuck up, listen to the people who are having feelings about it with empathy.

As for me, I think the real reason why this discourse is so touchy for me is because I want to eventually get to a point where it would be gauche for me to drop the t-slur. One of the few things that keeps me going right now is the fact that there are surgeries that can help me look less like a tranny.

I guess that’s what gets me about this discourse. It feels like there’s a contingency of people that just want a t-slur pass. When it’s a word I want so desperately to get rid of.

#transgender #reclaimed slurs #t slur #t slur reclaimed #transexual #trans experience

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potatoes-tomatoes · 1 year

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this a bit late but I saw ur tags on that sp easter episode gifset "not my ass pulling a stan at the tender age of six" - I'm so curious what ur easter questioning origins were 👀

i was (…am?) a lil insane growing up, like ok, I have memories of telling everyone in my kindergarten class that santa wasn’t real and wouldn’t care if they cried, bc they HAD to know the truth like, how could santa deliver those gifts in one night? why does he only give gifts to kids in america/ with enough wealth? You can still love the specials, and the holiday, the characters of the santa mythos, but believing a lie told by adults just didn’t sit right with me. also bc my parents told me he wasn’t real lol. (listen. my mom grew up very very poor. My grandma told my tias and tio that Santa wasn’t real, and only existed for the gringos with money jfkfkfjf) so. yeah my religiously zealous ass is the preface for even more religiously zealous stuff

so I grew up as a conservative christian girl that read the bible like a storybook every night, but I also have memories of questioning everything, it drove everyone crazy. I would hound my pastors after service with new questions someone my age wouldn’t usually have? I knew they thought it was kinda annoying if not mildly cute but I needed answers for every goddamn thing. Easter traditions bein one of them 😅 Now, I was raised very traditionally, as in, we examined good friday and went to a long Easter service and then, that’s it. Eggs, Rabbits were worldly, and had nothing to do with Christ, and tbh the most my fam enjoyed was the after church carne asada and the trip to walmart the coming monday to get discounted candy to munch on thru summer lolol. But I asked my classmates and teachers at school like at what point did easter become abt eggs? so if you’re not christian then, what exactly are you celebrating? You’re just doing elaborate stuff to eat candy. what’s the true purpose of the bunny? where did this originate? and everyone was like, just paint ur damn plastic egg for class Cel, you’re 6. 😂😅

Well that’s done and over with and I’m completely sane now. Also I did not paint and properly prep my first easter egg and participate in an egg hunt until last year with some friends and it was cute lol.

#cel speaks #when i say i was crazy i mean that at 9 i almost tried learning hebrew bc i could not stand knowing that there was knowledge in the bible #that was untranslatable and therefore inaccessible to english readers #i was like. I would Simply Not Know things? I cannot find the source of it myself?? NO!!#but also I was nine and got fixated on sonic and barbie and shit so that faded very quickly lol #I get why at first I seem like an ennea 5 or a 6 lol the panic that comes not fully mastering one’s craft is a key #5w6/6w5 bit i’ll admit #cel answers #sorry for the long rant tldr: the origin of this? there is no origin. I was (am) just like this hfkfh I Be Questioning Shit #but also i would play devils advocate (if h could call it that?) and tell my pastors like #‘well if we put up trees #and wrap presents for christmas #yet somehow turn a fucking candy cane into a christian symbol #can we not do the same for the eggs??’#and my pastors were like no christmas is different #and i never rly got a straight answer for that tbh….#i was very much an all or nothing gal like. so the church acknowledged the ‘pagan’ origins of trees but we can reclaim them and make it #christian or just a simple american Thing #but my church drew the line at putting candy crosses or verses inside the eggs alongside candy #to tie it in to jesus?

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sweetlittledaisy7 · 7 months

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I have to say, this is weird for me.

The love I have for my boyfriend. I can't believe I can say this. It's a bit embarrassing for me. I don't know why. I actually have a real first boyfriend.

Overall, dating has been weird. This is my very first relationship, and I'm smitten. When I told my boyfriend I was adopted, he took it well. Very rarely do I ever mention it, but we've been together for some time now. It came out randomly. He wasn't disrespectful but was curious.

He asked if I ever thought about my birth mom, and I said I do. Not all the time but random times.

I think ever since I started dating and having a boyfriend I actually thought about my birth mom a lot.

See, growing up, I was raised in a strict conservative environment. I went to a Christian private school since I was 4 years old and had to attend church three times a week. All I heard was that God destined me to be adopted. My birth mom chose life and didn't abort me.

When I was in middle school, I took a purity pledge. Not fully understanding what that meant. My parents taught me purity, and if I wasn't pure until marriage, these were the consequences. When this was mentioned, I couldn't help but make comparisons to my birth mom. She wasn't pure or married when I was created and birthed. She had to choose adoption as the consequences of unprotected sex. That's how I see it.

So, now I have met a wonderful person. I think it's going really well, and he thinks so, too. He's almost done with his degree, and the talks about marriage are getting stronger and stronger. We attend church together, and he makes me feel happy. However, I'm terrified to become like my birth mom. I'm terrified to even take the next step, knowing it's wrong. I'm worried what if I get pregnant now. Especially as an unmarried woman. Would my parents see me just like my birth mom? Would I be a disappointment? I have my bachelor's degree and want my masters. I want my own house, a backyard, and some dogs with my future husband. I think I want babies, but not now.

I can't lie and say I don't judge my birth mom. I often think to myself that if only she waited and was married, she wouldn't have given me away. It's her fault she got pregnant because she wasn't pure.

Many of my friends are already married. My parents got married around the same age my birth mom got pregnant with me. Yet, my parents were ready to be parents, and my birth mom wasn't. It's hard to even compare the two.

So, what do I now? I'm honestly terrified for the next step. I know I don't have to do it. I know I shouldn't do it. Temptation is strong, but my boyfriend is very supportive. He shares similar beliefs as I do. I'm grateful to have someone who gets it.

I never ever want to end up like my birth mom. I want to keep and raise any child I get pregnant with. It's extremely hard as an adoptee to be sexual knowing sex is what led you to be given away. It's also hard being older than the age others have sex but you've never done it. Many people do it as teens, but I didn't. Many just assume and think something is wrong with you if you don't do it. Especially when you have a boyfriend. My boyfriend and I just want to do what's right for us.

So, I can't win on either side.

#adoption #adoptee #adoptive parents #adoptive family #birth family #birthmom #adopted #dating #boyfriend #girlfriend #love

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church-of-me · 1 year

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It's time for me to come out. I don't know who to come out to so I'll do it here and see what happens.

I grew up super conservative Christian. Like super Christian. Everyone at my school was Christian. We went to church several times a week Christian. My wife and I had the most typical Christian marriage. We didn't have sex until our wedding day. When I was 31 I became a minister and my wife was the youth pastor. We were the quintessential Christian family. Then one day everything changed.

Here is the story of our beautiful decent. The beautiful seduction into who I am today and I wouldn't change a thing.

Ok. Let's be real here. Looking back This has always been with me. I masturbated and liked at porn whenever I could get away with it. She on the other hand was a perfect church girl. Never had an orgasm in her entire life. Never drank. Never tried drugs. Never swore. Never missed prayers and Bible study kinda girl.

The first time I knew she was the girl for me? She was still living at home and she was going to college. One night we were watching a movie. We were lying down on the couch and she was lying as the small spoon. I had my arm around her waist - safely under her breasts and definitely over the shirt. I readjusted quite innocently and brushed the underside of her breasts. We had been dating for months and were never EVER allowed to have ANY sexual relations until after marriage. Definitely not touching the breasts even on top of the clothing. But I did it by accident, and she..... Didn't pull away. She let me! She encouraged me. I started in slow circles with my thumb. Slowly getting braver. Slowly but surely working my way towards her nipple. Surely this would be too far. Surely she would stop me from going that far. But instead she encouraged more. She started with slow movements and guided my fingers home. Over the stretchy t-shirt fabric. I remember it so vividly her nipple rising to a rock hard point. She wasn't wearing a bra. That was no accident. Her nipple growing stiff under my fingers. I did that! My erection pushing, staining against my pants and now against her writhing hips and nestled between the perfect cleft of her backside in her coffin pajama bottoms. She encouraged it and I was so hooked. We both knew in order to have a marriage sanctioned by God, this is as far as we would let it go. For tonight.

To be continued....

#first time #sexy story #seduction #deconversion #healing #coming out #coming out story #pimo #ex christian #ex religious #make out #petting #forbidden love #sexy breast #netflix and chill #netflix and cuddles

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iamnathanieldanger · 9 months

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Just spent a couple days at the (very conservative) church camp I grew up at visiting family, and the new dosage of my ADHD meds had me very introspective about the whole thing.

To put some context into how important this place has been to me: between nine months and twenty-one years old, I was here every year. My mom grew up here. We have dozens of relatives that go. My grandfather has preached in the chapel many times.

Many of the longest lasting friendships of my life were born here. My close college friend group all grew up at the camp. My college internship was with a leader I met through the camp.

I went through the entire childhood curriculum. I stayed in the dorms from 6-12. I counseled in the dorms for two years when I was in college. I’ve responded to altar calls and got direction for my life and received messages from God. It fundamentally shaped my faith—primarily in good ways. It’s the place where I learned forgiveness, gratitude, faith, compassion, and more. But it’s also the place where I learned shame, anxiety that I’d miss my calling, and some pretty unhealthy ideas about romantic relationships.

I have not stayed for an entire (ten day!) session since my last counseling experience (initially because of conflict with the youth director, but then because of general growing up and life changing stuff). I do not intend to ever again, but I’ve gone up for some weekends to visit family, and will likely do that more regularly since having a child. That said, many people who grew up here STILL come every year. I saw many people I knew as a child, whose kids are now going through the same programs we grew up going through.

As much as this place as meant to me, it has become a pretty handy microcosm of the specific brand of faith that I have largely abandoned. I’m not sure how much of the population votes for non-Republican candidates, but it would not be something they advertise.

As I walked the grounds and reconnected with folks (and waited in a super long line for ice cream on my own), I had a few realizations that bright me a lot of clarity.

First was just how narrow most of these people’s experiences are. I saw maybe ten POC in the 2,000+ people there. Most of them live in predominantly conservative small towns, suburbs, or rural communities. They almost exclusively come from an economic position that gives them the freedom to afford to take ten days off of work and buy a camper or build a cabin. Their communities are filled with people who look, speak, think, and pray like them. But, most of them know missionaries overseas, so that widens the self-perception of their experience. Most of the friendships at camp go back generations so these perspectives are further enforced.

Ignorance itself is not a Vice. We do not know what we do not know. But I’ve seen the way they rile up when the edges of their experiences get pricked at. I’ve seen how hard some of them have fought to keep their boats from being rocked. I know dozens of relationships that have been cut off or significantly pulled back when one side starts exploring ideas outside of that circle—different political positions, different perspectives of doctrine, different sexualities or gender expression, etc.

Regarding these now-outsiders, there is a sort of idea that if they were actually serious about seeking God, they would come to camp. I jokingly addressed myself to some friends as being backslid, knowing full well that that’s kinda how they feel. In this idea, they ignore any hurt that might have been experienced from this community: particularly how unwelcome queer folks and deconstructing folks would be back at camp. There is an almost wholesale dismissal of the insurmountable anxiety that would be faced by reentering a community filled with people who have caused some deep, deep wounds. Besides, they should just forgive them anyway.

My own wounds are not nonexistent, but they are slight compared to many of the stories I know. But even I had some underlying anxiety as I was around the grounds. I found myself raising my guard up in a way I haven’t in a long while. Conversations would take subtle turns that set me on edge—casual comments that would remind me that I was not in a place I could be honest.

A thought kept bubbling up: what if they’re right? What it purity culture and conservative politics and fundamentalist doctrine and American exceptionalism and rapture watching and young earth creation and eternal conscious torment were all the truth, and I was backslid and headed for a specific version Hell that I don’t believe in anymore?

I would remember the long path that brought me here—all the study and prayer and experiences that led me to shed those ideas in the first place. I would remember how recent and rare and exegetically flimsy they are. And on top of that—if that is who God really is, I’m not sure I want it.

In spite of all this, I don’t doubt any of the immense, lasting moves of God that I experienced there. But all of these moments seemed to come in spite of the community’s tendencies. Moments where God reached out through the boxes we stuffed Him into and shattered the walls we built around our faith. I still trust that He can move in the same way again. And I hope against hope that these people listen.

#deconstruction #deconstructing christianity #religious trauma

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a-room-of-my-own · 2 years

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One of the things I don’t think that pro sex strike fems understand is that the anti abortion movement in the usa is headed by evangelical christian extremists who are VERY anti-sex and anti-female sexual pleasure. Like sex is extremely taboo where I live (Bible belt region, also I’m between age 20-25 for more context). The school I went to straight up didn’t have sex ed. Schools here are not required to have sex ed and if they do it doesn’t have to be medically accurate. Sex is considered to be for procreation only. Birth control is taboo because it prevents pregnancy. Wives are not supposed to deny their husbands sex. You are supposed to have as many children as possible until you either physically can’t or die. It is considered inappropriate to even kiss before marriage. I was told to only give side hugs and never fully hug a guy because he might feel my breasts. I was told that women were not supposed to have sexual “urges” and that something was fundamentally wrong with me if I did. I was told these things in christian youth groups at the churches my parents forced me to go to. I didn’t actually grow up in as extreme of a christian home that I know other women in the usa grew up in. I knew girls who experienced significantly worse things than I did. I was given a few options outside of immediate motherhood, allowed to wear pants, allowed to celebrate holidays, allowed to go on birth control, allowed to leave the house by myself, allowed to go to a real school instead of being “homeschooled”, allowed to wear a one piece swimsuit, etc by my parents. I would actually call them moderate by comparison. I was even sort of given a sex ed talk by my mother. It was not medically accurate or really acceptable in the slightest but I’ve heard of women here being married off not knowing anything about how sex works. The problem with some of the conversation about this abortion thing is that a lot of people do not know how deeply and dangerously the religious extremism in the usa goes. There are people very high up in the conservative party who are evangelical christian extremists. Trump got major support from christian extremists here. There are scotus judges who are involved in christian extremism. People don’t know about this because it starts and grows in the states that are consistently forgotten about (like flyover states) and in rural communities, not big cities. Like Missouri, that place is a total mess. There are politicians there who have stated that they literally want to turn the us into the handmaids tale. The quiverfull movement is playing a major part in whatever the fuck is going on here too. If you want a good example of american evangelical christian extremists there’s the duggar family. Idk how many people outside of the us know about them.

I hope more people here start waking up to the fact that religion extremists have taken ahold of the us. It’s bad and we can’t stop it if we don’t know about it. This is a plan that has been in action for decades and it could have been stopped sooner. The us is unfortunately not a very secular country. Some politicians are calling for christian nationalism even, it’s terrifying. Separation between church and state has been long dead here. Also Fox News is involved somehow. This country is being rotted from the inside out by evangelical christians.

Almost funny story that I didn’t know where to include: female pleasure is so taboo here that I didn’t even know what my clitoris was actually called until adulthood and I was finally able to research the things I was never taught and actually go to the gynecologist for the first time. I didn’t know that it wasn’t a physical abnormality. I thought that there was something wrong with me. I also thought that vaginal penetration was supposed to hurt. That is what I grew up hearing from my first period. That my “wifely duties” would hurt. I didn’t know that it could be pleasurable and I was so terrified that it made me scared to even touch myself for a long time. That is why I will not let that anti-female pleasure type rhetoric radblr likes so much go unnoticed. I’ve done a lot of healing and learning since breaking free of religion and like I don’t want anyone to promote that kind of harmful stuff, if that makes sense. It hurts women.

Thank you so much for sharing your story and your input. I'm glad you could free yourself of all this, it takes a lot of courage.

Stories like yours are also why I'm not backing down about this subject. If you don't feel comfortable talking about it on your own blogs, consider mine your space, I'm with you 100%.

#feminism #radrama

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thecryptidcottage · 1 year

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have you ever heard of you’re a mirror i cannot avoid by bad books ? well, it describes LINDSAY DUFFY to a tee ! the thirty-one year old gardener was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know him ? would you say he is more passive or more compassionate instead ? anyway, he reminds me of half a dozen empty tea cups scattered along dusty bookshelves and window sills , the feeling of soft grass drenched in morning dew against bare feet , sketchbooks filled with drawings and watercolors of plants and scribbled notes about them , the hoot of a barn owl in the early hours of dawn , a stack of train tickets on a kitchenette counter that have started to spill onto the floor . maybe you’ll bump into him soon !

STATS.

name: lindsay malcolm duffy gender & pronouns: cisgender male / he + him orientation: homoromantic homosexual age: thirty-one date of birth: 23 may, 1992 zodiac: ☼ cancer ☽ cancer ↑ cancer occupation: gardener at crossrail place roof garden positive traits: intuitive + thoughtful + gentle + kind + loyal negative traits: guarded + passive + regretful + anxious

HISTORY.

trigger warning: internalized / explicit homophobia + drug abuse + death

growing up on a small mains on a family plot of land offered to a young lindsay duffy what appeared to be a means to a simple, satisfying life. the land was breath-taking, the work was honest and left you ready for a good night’s sleep at the end of each day. his father ran the humble dairy farm with the expectation that one day, his children would take over the business and keep it in the duffy name. when he wasn’t occupied with schoolwork, lindsay was learning the ins and outs of keeping the cows happy and the land well-tended.

and to his credit, lindsay did his best to be everything peigi and irving duffy expected of their first and only son — he worked hard, kept his marks up and did choring whenever he had the time. he went to church every sunday and did his best to help his mother mind his baby sister, maisie, four years his junior. yes, lindsay did his best to make sure he was nothing less than the perfect son, and he’d become so good at it, it almost felt like who he really was. and maybe it was, or it could’ve been. but it wasn’t ever wholly who he was, and he never really could be, could he ? not while still hoping to maintain the visage of the ideal son.

peigi and irving duffy are very religious, conservative folk. they‘d always been incredibly opinionated and never felt shy about voicing their disdain for lifestyles they didn’t consider in line with the catholic faith. it was why they’d grown distant from maisie the older she got ; she was a black sheep, a free-thinker who did not fancy herself suited for the farm life or the many limitations of organized religion and did not care for their parents’ expectations of her. but as maisie grew further from their parents, her bond with her older brother grew closer. in spite of how she knew they valued him more for his contributions to the family, she couldn’t bring herself to resent him, because she also knew something about lindsay that they did not.

lindsay was eight years old the first time he thought he might like another boy ; he was still in primary, and he didn’t know what love meant but he understood feelings well enough to know that he shouldn’t be getting butterflies because rory mackenzie decided to share his pick’n’mix and gave him the blue sweets ( his favorite ) because they matched his eyes. it wasn’t a big deal and even thinking that it could have been was pavin’ a road straight to sin, as his mum would say. so he didn’t tell anyone, not until years later when he’d confide everything he’d been carrying since that moment in his sister maisie, and he pretended as if he hadn’t felt anything at all. and the next time rory offered to share his pick’n’mix, lindsay said his mum told him that sweets would make his teeth fall out and that was that.

of course it wasn’t just that, though. it never is. and when lindsay is sixteen and kissing rory mackenzie in the backseat of his car ( because of course it had never just been candy ) and he feels those butterflies in his stomach again and he thinks he might be sick and he can’t tell if this is what love is supposed to feel like, what right is supposed to feel like, because it also feels a little bit like guilt. like fear. but lindsay doesn’t know what fear is until a year later when his father catches the two of them out in the pastures a fair walk from the house ( he’d thought they would be safe ) breathless and shirtless and covered in kisses and love marks.

lindsay doesn’t see rory again after that. doesn’t see anyone, really ; he throws himself into school, into work, into spending time with maisie and going to church every sunday. he goes back to trying to pretend he’s still the perfect son, but it doesn’t work. his father looks at him different and his mother doesn’t try to hold back her tears, but lindsay puts his head down and acts like it never happened. because he doesn’t need whatever that was to be happy, as much as rory did. as much as feeling like himself did. what he needs is his family, his support system. he’s never felt disappointment like this before, what it means to be a disappointment.

convinced that the family business was no longer in the cards for him ( it couldn’t be a family business if he couldn’t continue the family line, could it ? ) lindsay sets his sights on school, where he spends four years struggling through relations with his parents and with himself all in an attempt to get a botany degree. and he does ; he’s always had a green thumb, and working with plants is therapeutic, comforting.

maisie tries to comfort him and lend support when she can, of course, but she’s busy fighting demons of her own. demons that lindsay was too selfish to realize until it was too late. somewhere in his own struggles, she’d picked up a handful of addictions ; pills, powders, anything she could find to tune out of her own reality and into another. their parents were unsurprised and unsupportive, convinced she’d brought her own trials upon herself. defeated by the children they’d ended up with, they stopped finding the effort to put in. lindsay did what he could for his sister, everything he could, but she lost her life to an overdose when she was twenty-five.

after she passed, lindsay couldn’t find anything tying him to scotland. he was fond of his job at the royal botanic garden, but there wasn’t a place he could go that wouldn’t have plants that needed tending. his heart ached for his sister but lingering so close to home only kept her most painful memories fresh ; he could do without the self-righteous blame from his parents every time her name was mentioned. so he packed his bags and left the rural, rolling hills of home for the city, landing a gig at a rooftop garden in london.

lindsay is still trying to find his footing in notting hill ; he’s still navigating grief over the loss of his sister and guilt that he couldn’t be there for her and protect her from their parents when she needed him most and beyond that, still trying to figure out who he is now that he’s not under anyone’s scrutinizing gaze. he’s desperate to seek out silver linings, hoping that a fresh start in a new place might do him some good, but it’s been several months and he’s still yet to make very many friends. or talk to anyone, really. he’s not good at it. but for as wonderful a city as it seems to be, london feels incredibly lonely at the moment.

MISCELLANEA.

lindsay thinking about getting a dog because he’s convinced it’ll make him more sociable. you meet people at dog parks, right ? and besides, a friend is a friend, furry or not. he’s just not sure he’ll have the space to accommodate an animal in his flat.

he loves to cook, and visits the shops every friday evening after he’s off work to pick up groceries so he can try out a new recipe or two. breakfast foods are his favorite, and he’ll tell anyone that they’re a food meant for any time of day.

he started painting while he was in school as a means of visual aid to help him keep track of the plants he was learning about, but since coming to london, he’s leaned into the hobby a great deal to pass the time, and will often paint local streets or rolling verdant landscapes inspired by his home.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

the neighbors. because they’re probably some of the closest things things lindsay has to friends. i would even go so far as to say i’d be down for a roommate connection, if for no other reason than to force this man to be social. they don’t have to have anything in common or even get along, and it would actually probably be pretty comical if they didn’t, but... yeah. starting off strong with a connection for humans that happen to exist in the same vicinity.

the friend(s). there’s an s there, as in plural, but i’ll be honest, lindsay doesn’t have too many. not for a lack of trying, but more... well, yeah, for a lack of trying. he’s not good at going out and talking to people and can sometimes be a bit awkward, but if you do happen to get him into a conversation, he’s actually a pretty decent guy. would love to see him having gotten close to at least one or two people since moving to the city, people he feels comfortable around. hell, maybe they can try to convince him to get out more.

the crush. ( male/masc nb muses only , mid-to-late twenties or older ! ) this one’s pretty self-explanatory, but your muse would be the first person to have caught lindsay‘s eye since he moved to london. he’s never been much of a charmer or a flirt, but he tries to keep his cool and not stutter or stumble through his words when they’re around ( it’s a gamble half the time on whether or not it’ll work ) and so far he thinks he’s doing a pretty decent job. can be mutual or unrequited ! i’d just like to see him pine a little bit.

the emergency contact. someone that lindsay met shortly after arriving who must’ve noticed how drastically out of depth he seemed in the city and helped him acclimate to the entirely different environment. lindsay owes this person quite a bit ; they helped him learn the ins and outs of living in london, from making the most of public transport to the best place to grab a pint or a cup of tea. without your muse, lindsay probably thinks he wouldn’t have lasted on his own more than a few weeks, but they convinced him it was worth staying.

literally anything! when i tell you i am down for honestly whatever, i mean it, so if you’ve got ideas, please throw them at me!

#↳ intro ( lindsay )

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grahamstoney · 13 years

Text

How (and Why) I Went From Christian to Atheist

New Post has been published on https://grahamstoney.com/spirituality/and-why-christian-atheist

How (and Why) I Went From Christian to Atheist

One of the greatest challenges of my life has been the journey of discovery that led me to abandon the religion of my upbringing, and the core beliefs about myself and the world around me that went along with it. Although tremendously challenging, the journey has also been one of the most rewarding; which isn’t surprising since it’s when we step outside our comfort zone and encounter challenges that we truly grow.

I was raised in a conservative church-going family in middle-class Australia. Every weekend my parents would take our family along to our mildly-progressive local Christian church. I went to Sunday School every weekend where I learned stories from the bible, learned to close my eyes when I prayed, heard about Jesus, sang cutesy Christian songs, and generally ran amok as often as I could. I was an energetic little boy, and the thought of sitting still in Sunday School every Sunday morning really didn’t appeal to me. But at least it meant I didn’t have to sit through the long church service my parents went to at the same time though, where they sang boring hymns and listened to sermons that didn’t make much sense to me.

The stories they taught me in Sunday School seemed a little odd: God turning Lot’s wife into a pillar of salt just for turning around at the wrong time. Jonah being swallowed by a fish; I doubted a person could survive long in a fish… how would they breathe? And Jesus being crucified for my sins and rising again, all before I was even born. The New Testament turned out to be almost 2000 years old; that’s hardly what I considered “new”. Even as a kid I could see that the technological and scientific progress since then probably shed a new light on the interpretation of biblical events.

Every week I would be told to confess my sins in prayer and ask God for forgiveness. Often I would struggle to think of something to confess; surely I couldn’t just keep confessing every week that I hadn’t cleaned up my room like my mother was always asking me. Even when I did do it, she was never satisfied. I felt like a bad person for having so many sins that I didn’t even know about, and having caused Jesus to die that horrible death on the cross. Something didn’t feel quite right about all this, but over time I learned to suppress my intuition and came to believe that the problem was something wrong with me.

My parents were extremely private people, which is another way of saying that they withheld their feelings and had dreadful communication skills. They never talked directly about anything personal, especially not about how they felt or what they believed; as a result, they had a stormy relationship. I was a sensitive kid and found their arguments tremendously scary and traumatic; I could sense the tension in the house and often felt like I was walking on eggshells at home. My mother was stubborn and highly critical, and my father often seethed with resentment he couldn’t express. They were so stoic, I never saw either of them cry, nor express affection towards each other and I thought they just didn’t love each other. Although they were very involved in our local church and took us along every week, they never talked about their faith in God or Jesus at home. I grew up feeling uncomfortable and awkward, ashamed of who I was and what I believed.

During adolescence I started attending more senior fellowship groups at the church, and had a fairly close-knit group of church friends. I also did other activities such as Boy Scouts, and had friends from school; but these separate worlds never collided. I was a highly sensitive kid with mediocre social skills and a total lack of self-confidence, which made me an easy target for bullies at school. At high school I kept my faith under wraps most of the time; I had enough attention as it was from the local bullies without needing to be teased for being Christian. Looking back, I think I sensed at the time that the whole Christian thing wasn’t really defensible, but I suppressed my intuition and kept going along to church, fellowship, and bible study groups. I loved going on church camps, getting away from home and hanging out with my other Christian friends. The friendships I made at this time have become some of my longest and most enduring.

On many occasions, I specifically prayed to ask God to forgive my sins and accepted Jesus as my personal lord and saviour. I can’t say I ever felt the presence of the holy spirit, but it wasn’t for lack of praying for it. I tried to read the bible every day, but frankly it was pretty boring. I went to regular bible study groups with other Christians which helped to assuage my doubts, but I often felt frustrated with a lack of guidance from God and always seemed to have to make decisions on what to do myself.

After leaving high school I went to university to study Computer Engineering. I was extremely busy studying part time while working a full-time day job, but I maintained and even deepened my involvement in the church where I grew up. I served on the Youth Ministries committee, became a steward to welcome people and help run the evening services, and later became an Elder. I was about as involved in church as a lay person could possibly be. For several years I dated a girl from my social group at the church, ultimately breaking up because I didn’t want to marry her; at the time, this was the most painful experience I had ever been through. I was devastated and felt the most excruciating emotional pain I’d ever felt. It took at least two years to get over. She left the church and three months later got engaged to another guy. Ouch.

Shortly after graduating from university I took up regular volunteer work at a Christian-based telephone crisis counselling service. We were trained to be non-judgemental, to get callers to talk about their feelings, and to avoid shoving Jesus down their throat. I liked this approach, and got heavily involved in the counselling service assisting with training, taking calls, and even seeing clients face-to-face. While leading a small group on one of the counselling training courses, I met a sprightly young woman who quickly became one of my closest friends. She was disillusioned with her church, so I invited her along to mine and she became a regular attendee. She had a tempestuous relationship with her boyfriend, and when they eventually split up we started dating.

A few years later she was keen to get married, but I was not. History repeating itself painfully. She convinced me to go and see a counsellor, where I started dealing with my terribly low self-esteem and revealing the emotional impact my parent’s fighting had had on me. I was so ashamed that it took months for me to open up and talk about how scared I had felt as a kid when they fought. Even just being able to cry freely in front of the counsellor was so shameful, it felt like having broken glass stuck in my eyes. I had a deep-seated fear of showing how I was feeling to other people.

At the same time, I began to question whether the God I had believed in for so long was actually real; and this frightened me. I had serious doubts and felt very uncomfortable being an Elder at the church, so I resigned but kept attending as a regular lay person. I was overloaded anyway and on the road to a serious burnout given my heavy involvement at both the counselling centre and my local church. Something had to give. Eventually my girlfriend and I split up because I didn’t want to marry her either, and this breakup was even more painful and devastating than the previous one. I had no idea that a human being could feel so terrible. It took at least another two years to get over, and was worse this time around. The guilt I felt was overwhelming. My family were less than supportive, and as many of my friends had also become her friends, socialising with my friends felt painful and awkward.

After a lifetime of attending the church where I grew up, I decided it was time to leave. My ex-girlfriend was now a regular member there and it was just too painful to keep showing up and feeling awkward. I didn’t want to repeat what had happened after my previous relationship where I stayed and the girl left. I was also losing interest in my job, and one of my flatmates treated me like I didn’t exist. My life was a painful mess and I needed to sort it out.

My counsellor was, by his own admission, a slightly crazy off-the-wall minister from a related church with a degree in psychology. Although I was a counsellor myself, I felt terribly ashamed about needing to go to therapy and having to walk my own talk. I wasn’t real keen on debating existential questions that have entertained philosophers for centuries at $120 per hour, so I started talking to the minister of my local church about what I actually believed regularly. At one of our sessions tears ran down my face and my whole body shook nervously as I revealed my true inner thoughts: “You know… I think God might not exist”. I was thoroughly distraught at the prospect. If God didn’t exist, Christianity was a sham. I wouldn’t be going to heaven. Death was the end of the road. That prospect scared the living shit out of me. I had only one life to live, and I’d messed an important part of it up. The repercussions were enormous.

The more widely I read, earnestly I prayed, and deeply I contemplated the teachings in the bible, the more Christianity began to unravel. My church had always taught that the 7 day creation story wasn’t meant to be taken literally, so that wasn’t a problem for me. What about the rest of the bible though? I discovered that the story of the virgin birth is the result of a simple misinterpretation, leading to the obvious explanation for how Mary became pregnant. I started thinking more about the historical context of the bible, the limited knowledge that its author’s had and their primitive understanding of themselves and the world around them. Poorly educated fishermen make great followers, but may not be the most discerning when it comes to interpreting events. I had learned in my counselling training that people often experience hallucinations during intense grief, but since most people don’t know this they think they’re going crazy when it happens. It seemed quite plausible that the resurrection and Jesus’s reported appearances afterwards were hallucinations and never actually happened.

The minister was open to an honest dialogue, which was a tremendous help to me. He suggested I read some relatively liberal Christian literature that had a slightly different perspective from the mainstream conservative evangelical books I’d been devouring; but I got a sense that even these authors were avoiding a fundamental obvious truth. I kept reading more and more widely, including more radical Christian authors, agnostic and atheist philosophy. For a while I felt agnostic; unable to decide whether it was all true or not. One day during our conversations he asked me “Are you still sitting on the fence Graham? Because sitting on a fence is pretty painful, isn’t it?” He was right; I had to decide one way or another.

At the same time, I went church hopping. I used the opportunity to visit a wide variety of churches from conservative to pentecostal, and to ask people what they really believed. People were falling down and lying on the floor in the middle of the service at one; it was quite a spectacle. I was no longer the responsible Elder who felt that I had to have the answers; I could be the one asking the tough questions. Few people had answers I found satisfying. Most people seemed to be avoiding fear of one thing or another: feeling unloved, death, loneliness. I went to an introductory Christianity course called Alpha, and didn’t hold back on expressing my doubts. I sensed that people were looking for community more than they were looking for truth, and would believe pretty much whatever they were told in order to get it. I wanted to know the truth, goddam it, I didn’t want it sugar coated. I decided that truth was more important than happiness, and I would pursue the truth whatever it cost me.

I was tired of superficial Christian small-groups that never got down to reality. One night I was at a bible study where we were discussing the finer points of interpretation of a Paulian epistle, when I said “Look, what does it matter? This is just Paul’s personal opinion. The God he’s talking about probably doesn’t even exist!”. I felt everyone was missing the forest for the trees. The group leader was perplexed and responded “Well… I kind of wonder why you’re in a Christian bible study if you don’t even believe in God”. Good point, I thought. It was time to give up the charade.

I quit going to church, stopped reading the bible, and kept expanding my world view even more widely. If God didn’t exist he couldn’t have created the universe, so I wanted to know who or what did. I read widely on the topic of creation, cosmology and evolution until I felt I had a reasonable understanding of a better explanation for how I came to be here than the simplistic one Christianity offered. I found many inconsistencies in Christian doctrine that I’d been prepared to overlook before, and realised how naïve and closed-minded I had been. It was fascinating to consider that a universe like ours could spring into existence in an uncaused quantum mechanical event without a God behind it. I found it remarkable that the very brain we use to ponder the question of the origin of the universe is a product of that same vast, incomprehensible universe. Little wonder ancient people came up with the notion of a God to explain so many things they couldn’t understand. As an engineer, I’d always had a great respect for science and now this considerably outweighed my diminishing respect for religion. I felt fortunate to live at a time when we understand so much more about the world around us than the people who wrote the bible did.

Around the same time I was going through this faith crisis and relationship breakup fallout, I switched jobs in the hope of finding more inspiring work. A few years later, I was thoroughly burned out. I quit full-time work with no idea where to head. I started my own consulting business, which was fun for a while but my heart wasn’t really in it. I had been passionate about computers for much of my life, but looking back I can see that in a way I was just avoiding the pain that I felt in relationships with people. Being highly sensitive and insecure, I hurt easily and criticism from other people stung deep. Computers didn’t do that to you. But you can’t relate emotionally to one either, so something inside me was being left unfulfilled. I became more and more interested in personal development work, emotional healing and finding deeper ways to connect with other people. I began exploring art , music, dance, theatre, writing and other creative endeavours now that I wasn’t working.

Giving up the belief system behind Christianity was one thing; reversing the deep-seated emotional impact that its teaching had on my neurology was another. It wouldn’t be fair to blame Christian teaching entirely for my chronic low self-esteem, since most of that was probably inherited from my parents and goes back several generations. Christianity just reinforced this dysfunction with it’s notions of sinfulness, the need for salvation, labelling pride a sin, shame about sex & sexuality, and avoiding dealing with the finality of death. Over the years since declaring myself an atheist, I’ve healed many pockets of emotional damage deep in my psyche that held me back from being free to be my true self. This is a work in progress, and I’m not yet where I want to be… but I’m on the journey.

The underlying issues that make us want to bow down to a God that someone else invented don’t just go away simply because you recognise that man made God in our own image, rather than the other way around. I still have a fairly deep sense of powerlessness, unworthiness, not being good enough and shame about who I am and what I want from life. Gradually this is being healed through meaningful, emotionally open relationships with loving people who don’t have an agenda of spreading the Christian gospel.

I’ve often felt that I lived in a prison of my own inhibitions, and now I’m doing whatever I can to break out of that cage: acting courses, public speaking courses, spiritual, emotional & sexual healing courses. I’m making inroads into the heavy layer of guilt, fear and shame I still carry from my past. I realise that people respond to me in the way they do because of the way I communicate, so I’m learning new ways of communication which are more powerful. My self-image is gradually changing in the process, but it doesn’t happen overnight. I’m aware that many people suffer the effects of religious indoctrination and may never overcome it, but I figure that so long as I’m alive, there’s hope.

I sometimes wonder whether people are happier when living in reality, or when living in denial; if they’re happier in reality, why do so many choose to live in denial? Research shows that religious people tend to be happier on average than those who don’t believe and the most obvious payoff is the connection you get with other people from living in a faith community. I’m a little less attached to being right nowadays, but authenticity is still important to me. I can’t profess a belief that doesn’t ring true to me. On the other hand, I’ve believed plenty of negative beliefs about myself which feel true but actually aren’t really, for a long time. Now I’m gradually letting them go. I’m also connecting more deeply with many people outside of the narrow and often judgemental confines of christendom, and I no longer feel the need for a church community to sustain me.

I now believe that human nature is not as fundamentally flawed as Christianity suggests. We are not going to hell if we don’t repent, and never were. Believers are not going to heaven either. Jesus didn’t die for our sins, and we don’t need salvation. That anxious feeling of abandonment that we all get at times, which Christians relieve by believing in a loving personal God, can be relieved more fully by healing the emotional wounds which cause the anxious feeling in the first place. Connecting with other real, live people helps too; it just requires better social skills. The relief from guilt and shame that we get be believing in redemption via Jesus can be felt more permanently by finding less judgemental people to hang around with until we learn to forgive ourselves, take responsibility for our lives, and make amends for the things we regret. This is better because it goes deeper, it’s based in reality, and you don’t take on someone else’s control agenda ending up with more guilt and shame in the process. The feeling of connectedness we gain from communities with strong us-and-them boundaries defined by doctrinal differences can be gained by learning to communicate with people from the heart, and finding social groups defined by something other than a common belief system that must go unchallenged. All these things are more difficult initially, but ultimately more rewarding than importing an invented belief system into your life wholesale.

Giving up the belief system of my childhood was hard, but it’s one of the most important things I’ve done to be more true to myself. My family are mostly still church-goers and I’m something of the odd one out; letting go of the need to fit in has been difficult and speaking the truth in front of them still causes me anxiety. The great challenge for me remains overcoming the sense of guilt, fear and shame I inherited while growing up. Connecting with loving, supportive, non-judgemental people is helping, as is speaking out against religious indoctrination.

I think the antidote to all forms of bogus religiosity, from conservative Christianity to Islamic terrorism, is education. Fighting deeply entrenched religious beliefs head-on just reinforces them and causes further division. We need to give everyone a better understanding of [intlink id=”512″ type=”post”]how our brains work[/intlink] and why we are susceptible to taking on superstitious beliefs in the first place.

Ultimately discerning the truth has been the most liberating thing I have done in my life, and I am tremendously glad that I am travelling this difficult and rewarding road. I no longer bow in submission to a God that doesn’t exist, but there are still relics of cultural, religious and emotional baggage to deal with. Although I would no longer turn to it as my first port of call, there is still some wisdom in the bible: as Jesus is reported to have said, “The truth will set you free”.

I’m interested in your story too… please leave a comment with your thoughts. If you’re on a similar journey and could use some support with your spiritual or emotional healing, check out the coaching service that I offer via Skype.

#atheism #Christianity #science #Spirituality

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stephenjaymorrisblog · 2 years

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Is the Republican Party Soft on Fascism?

Is the Republican Party Soft

on Fascism?

Stephen Jay Morris

6/5/2022

Let’s start from the beginning, shall we? It was the year of our Lord, 1854. There was a coalition of various groups like the defunct “Whig Party,” the “Free Soil Party,” and the racist group, the “Native America Party,” aka: “The Know Nothing Party.” Note: The reason they were called, “The Know Nothings” was because whenever there was a terrorist attack, like a fire-bombed, Catholic church, they would answer police investigators’ questions with, “I know nothing about the firebombing.” That nickname could be applied to today's Republicans. Most of the rank and file members have low I.Q.s and know nothing about anything!

Let’s get something straight: Abraham Lincoln was not a true Republican. He joined the party to run against a Democratic candidate. It was for political strategy. Matter of fact, like George Washington, he despised political parties. Lincoln, in today’s Right wing slang, was pretty “woke.” Oh, one more thing...Lincoln had pen pals. Guess who his favorite was? Karl Marx. I told you he was woke.

Okay—we are now up to date. And today’s Republican Party? Very unstable. The upper echelon of the party are like fugitives hiding in safe houses known as Country Clubs. Initially, they were willing to let the White, working class, protestants in. Now, they regret it, as the patients are starting to take over the asylum. The rich Republicans erroneously figured that superstitious Christians would be perfect for class engineering; i.e.: as they got richer and richer, the poor would be told to pray to Jesus if they wanted their next meal. This is exactly the type of shit done in the Dark Ages.

The loud mouths of the party, like Marjorie Taylor Greene, do not even know what the fuck Fascism is, and yet, they advocate it. Recently, while spewing some garbage on Social Media about how the government is monitoring people and the type of meat they are eating, MTG totally missed the term “petri dish” by claiming that Bill Gates is growing meat in a “peach tree dish,” instead. More recently, a clip of her January 6th testimony revealed her substitution of the word “flagrantly” with “fragrantly” to describe the way in which defendants’ rights had been allegedly violated. For decades now, Conservatives have been advocating “Anti-Intellectualism;” well, she is a glaring and blatant example of it! Unsurprisingly, most Right wing sexists don’t mind her; she mirrors the “Stupid Blonde” persona; albeit, a much more dangerous one. 1950’s actresses Judy Holiday and Marilyn Monroe often played such a role. A “stupid blonde” would fire up the Conservative libido. “Teach me how to make love, daddy!” “Oh yeah, daddy will show you!” Baarrrff!!!!!!

So why do paleo-conservatives hate intellectuals, anyway? Certainly, not because they are advocating Left wing propaganda! It’s because objective truth discredits them. The biggest threat to the Right is not so-called “Leftism;” it is Objectivity. Conservatism goes against common sense or basic logic. So when they say, “The New York Times is Left wing,” they mean the material is too objective. The newspaper gives them negative press, but not because they are trying to destroy the Republican Party; they just fuck up way more than the Democrats do! Last year, The New York Times reported relentlessly about New York Governor Andrew Cuomo, the Democrat. They took him down because of his alleged sexual misdeeds. So, is the New York Times Leftist? Well—is the pope Jewish?

Starting in the late 40’s, the Republican Party, along with other conservative scum bags called Democrats, went soft on Communism. This prevailed all through the Cold War. Now, high ranking Republicans are calling the Democratic Party “Communists” and “Socialists.” Yeah, sure they are. A lot of progressive Leftists are calling the Republican Party, “Fascists.” Well, they’re not, really—although, the real Fascists have gotten their foot in the door. The Democrats kept the real Communists out of their party starting way back in the 1930’s. Do you think rich Liberals would let Commies into their party? Do you think Rich Conservatives are going to let Nazis into their’s?

The only legislation the GOP is actuating is legalizing guns for blind people. Otherwise, except for WASPs who own oil wells, the GOP hasn’t done shit for the American people! This latest incarnation of the Republican Party has not exactly put the party in a state of catalepsy. The leadership has to change its membership from illimitable to exclusionary with a happy face. The central committee must exercise discretion and entropy to fix their party. The biggest mistake the party did was not giving the war against Fascism—otherwise known as World War 11—their vigorous support. Nowadays, the MAGA crowd is comprised of anti-Fascist, Fascist groups. So, are anti-Communists really Communists? That’s anti-intellectualism for you. Here is quote for all of you:

“Fascism should more appropriately be called Corporatism because it is a merger of state and corporate power.” ―Benito Mussolini 1932

I used to know this woman who was a Chud. She did this officious thing, which was so fucking condescending! It was solicitous advice that made me crawl up the wall! It went like this: “If I was on the Left, I would do this and I would do that.” Well, with this, I turn the tables on her and say: “If I was on the Republican National Committee (RNC), I would put out a press release denouncing Fascism, white supremacy, and Christian Nationalism. If you don’t do that soon, the Libertarian Party, or maybe the American Christian Party will replace you. Who knows?”

Don’t be soft on fascism!

#republicans #stephenjaymorris #poets on tumblr #american politics #baby boomers #baby boomer generation #anarchists #democrats #gop

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madewithonerib · 8 months

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Reason for GOD P,1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9 | Timothy J. Keller [Jude 1:23]

This is a talk by Tim Keller given at the Harvard Graduate School of Education in 2008; and the questions were moderated by Tara Edelschick.

Jude 1:23 | ²³ save others by snatching them from the fire; and to still others, show mercy tempered with fear, hating the clothing stained by the flesh.

Ladies & gentlemen thank you for coming tonight please welcome Dr. Timothy Keller.

1.] Compassion to Enter People's Pain

Thank you I'm here to try to talk to you about some of the reasons people don't believe in Christianity and GOD in general, but Christianity in particular.

The reasons people do and we increasingly live in a society in which more and more people consider themselves secular; more & more people consider themselves people without religious faith, or with -out religious preference.

And people who have very robust orthodox strong beliefs in supernatural religion, the mushy middle is going away.

When I was growing up, & my parents were growing up: people who didn't believe in GOD at all & people who had very strong orthodox views were relatively rare, groups with their little slices of people.

Out here in the vast majority of the population were people who went to Church or synagogue—and they believed, but they didn't.

They believe very mildly, if you ask them questions about stuff they didn't like to talk about it.

They believed in kind of general terms & that's where most people were increasingly—we have more secular people & more religious people at the same time.

In our society now, what that means is increasingly we actually have to learn to sympathetically under -stand why if you don't believe in GOD/Christianity.

Why do you need to be able to understand it and to articulate it very well? If you do believe in GOD and say Christianity in particular.

1.1] Dismissive Add To Their Pain/Chaos

I'm a Christian Minister, when I get into the particulars of religion, I'm going to go there. That's what I know— but if you do believe and see all these people around who doubt,

we need to sympathetically enter into their their non-belief — and be able to articulate it. See right now everybody just dismisses the other side.

You're not going to have a civil society.

To dismiss their objections is to invite disunity; & I got a chance to to do something like this talk at the Google campus in Mountaintop California, which is the main Google campus.

And they have a something called Authors at Google which is a series—and they have authors come in & present the book & talk & ask questions.

It was a great time.

In fact, I haven't seen it, but somebody told me it's on YouTube as of today—and everybody who does this at Google signs these release forms.

They stick it up on YouTube, they own it—however, everybody told me that there were only two. There was my talk on, & I'm not a very well-known person —so they didn't come because I was there.

They came because of the subject religion, and why do people believe? Why people disbelieve?

The only other author that got as big a crowd as me was Violet Blue — who is an internet porn star, and everybody told me the reason is because

these are the two subjects nobody knows how to talk about. They are extremely similar, we know we don't want to talk about religion because everybody just gets upset which is why I never talk to my parents or grandparents about sex

because they just got upset!

And now actually we're a little better at sex than religion, but they're still there

They are & we're not going to get move forward in our society because secularism & religion are both growing enormously at the same time!

I know secular people say “we're being overrun by fundamentalists & conservatives; religious people say we're being overrun by secularism & unbelief.

The fact is they're both right actually.

And we're going to have to understand each other to get along—so what I'm going to do is I'm going to give you what I see.

1.2] Overview of Discussion

And of course I'm coming from a belief point of view —I'd like to give you an overview a kind of helicopter ride, then we'll have questions & answers.

• A helicopter ride on reasons people as far as I can see don't believe Christianity • Things that make Christianity implausible • things that are difficult for them to understand to why Christianity doesn't make sense to them

But in the process, since I'm coming from a belief side —as we go thru all the reasons people don't believe Christianity I'm going to also show you in the process a lot of the reasons that people do so.

Let me break it down into three categories why people don't believe in Christianity:

[a] They don't see the faith it takes to doubt Christianity & GOD. They don't see the faith it takes to doubt it.

[b] They don't see the problems they have without it & thirdly

[c] They don't see the beauty that they could find in it.

Now let me go back through that all right?

It's a helicopter ride, I'm gonna go for about until 8-15 minutes, then we're gonna have 45 minutes of questions okay?

And this will be sketchy because I'd rather go give you an overview & just tell you about these topics

Then if you want more, you can come back okay?

Reason for GOD P,1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9 | Timothy J. Keller [Jude 1:23]

#Reason for GOD #Timothy J. Keller #Jude 1:23

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