Religious to Irreligious: A Slow Lifetime Conversion Driven by Eclecticism

I didn’t know this until recently, but apparently, I am part of a growing minority. We are the “Nones.” Nones are those who fill in “no religion” in census and other questionnaires. How I came to identify as “no religion” is a twisted tale, but I imagine my story is not unique.

Childhood Christian Merry-Go-Round

There was no “Eureka!” moment at which I decided I would abandon religion, simply a slow accretion of experiences of many different religious practices. I started off in childhood trying to be Catholic. But when the priest refused to let me partake in communion, I became incensed. I was only 7, but I found the way the priest patted my head in that patronizing manner rubbed me the wrong way. I had done everything a 7-year-old knows how to do to be Christ-like, but this snooty priest had decided I wasn’t good enough.

Later, I found that the Protestant religions were more accepting, so, as a preteen and teenager, I ran the gamut, attending Methodist and Episcopal services with my mother’s side of the family and trying out Baptist and Pentecostal services on my own or with friends. I had a good friend who was a Pentecostal preacher’s child, so I became deeply involved in that lifestyle, enjoying the emotional rush of direct contact with God as I understood Him. Due to some shocking indiscretions on the preacher’s part, I fell out with the Pentecostals, and the Jim Bakker PTL scandal only confirmed me in my belief of the deep corruption lurking behind the public search for God.

Rejection of Christianity and Eclectic Experimenting with Atheism and Niche Religions

By this time, I was in college, freed from parental shackles, and so I experimented further. I became a philosophy and science junkie and turned away from God altogether. For a couple of years, I identified as atheist, based on rational and logical thinking. Basically, I was in love with science, and I had broken up with God.

The “dating” metaphor seemed apt to me in hindsight, because I found that science as a pursuit was a fulfilling intellectual rush and gave me a “high feeling” much like an exciting and fulfilling date would. But I began to realize that it did not fulfill an indefinable side in my personality, one that required spontaneity and creativity beyond the strictures of simple logic and strict reason. One might say that the right side of my brain was catching up to the left. Atheism as a mindset seemed to entirely cut off an entire aspect of reality.

As my search went on, I delved into the more bizarre practices of wicca, ritual magick, New Age and Druidism. I was never a Satanist, but the meaning of the Satanist creed, the worship of self over all else, influenced my philosophical understanding of the meaning of religion as a practice and overarching concept.

Contrast this to the Christian ideal of the Golden Rule or the Buddhist concept of karma, which stresses thought for others as a way to ensure they will also treat you well. (Karma is more complex, being a sort of cosmic balance influenced by every thought and action). Basically, I had boiled it down to Selfishness vs. Empathy.

I came to realize that the more selfish a person was, the more isolated that person became. The more empathic a person, the more people flocked around him or her. I also became aware of the interplay between the two groups. The empathic ones would be approached by the selfish ones, who would manipulate them to serve their own purposes. I found this interplay everywhere, most shockingly in houses of worship.

Common Philosophical Underpinnings Show Themselves

I thought back to the Pentecostal preacher and how his daughter, an innocent and deeply empathetic person, was manipulated and abused by the selfish impulses of this man. I looked at the financial scandals in churches and saw the same dynamic. It was the innocents being taken by the schemers. Nowhere was it more rampant than in the big, organized religions (and governments, but that’s another story). Why was that, I asked myself. Well, think of the Christian image of the shepherd and his sheep. The sheep gather in a herd, and they look to a leader to show them the way and keep them out of danger. The leader can be benevolent or selfish. An unlucky flock gathered under the Reverend Jim Jones and paid the ultimate price.

I found this dynamic in every organization I dabbled in, religious or nonreligious. There were the good leaders, who tried to build up the group according to a bright and idealistic vision, and there were the wolves in the flock, who tried to subvert the purpose to serve themselves or to inflict petty revenge. The wiccans, the ritualists, the Druids, and various social groups, all of these fell victim to the same process. The wolves infiltrated and divided the groups, which then either splintered into offshoots or collapsed altogether.

So we come to my later life, where I continued to try new things but did not emotionally involve myself, for fear of falling victim to the wolves. I thought of myself as canny, but I also knew I was missing out on opportunities for learning and growth. My interests were all secular, but somehow I couldn’t keep the religious aspects out of whatever I studied. It is impossible, as it is a powerful driving force in society, just as politics in the secular realm.

As I studied the history of Japan from the Edo era to the Meiji era, the practice of Hatha Yoga and martial arts for my physical and mental well-being, the practice of yard maintenance and gardening and their necessary repetitive activities, I realized that all these studies involved a spiritual element that couldn’t be defined by traditional “religious” terminology. The Japanese lived by the analects of Confucius, an ethical code that kept families strong and cohesive; yogis practiced the yamas and niyamas, codes that brought harmony and strength to their spirits that then strengthened their bodies. Martial artists and gardeners practice a form of Zen Buddhism, a hands-on path to enlightenment based on repetitive action without overt thought. This opens the mind to receive latent information that might not be accessible by the conscious or intellectual mind.

The Institution Impeaches Itself by Its Human Dynamic

Of late, I have defined myself as open-minded, not religious, open to the truth but not rejecting an idea simply because it does not fit a single logical framework. I found organized Christianity hypocritical and dangerous to the soul, while I found atheism to be an incomplete outlook on reality based on preconceptions born of adherence to a narrow interpretation of scientific theory. There are many other reasons I have abandoned organized religion, but I won’t go into them in this short space.

I will say that I find it unreasonable that great people such as Mahatma Gandhi and Paramhansa Yogananda, or even the Dalai Lama, should be relegated to the Fires of Hell, simply because they did not abandon their chosen religions for a particular sect of Christianity. I have long since rejected this sort of literalism, but neither can I accept the other extreme – the atheist’s view that there is “nothing” out there, as if an atheist could rule out the existence of beings so great that humanity might as well call them Gods.

I’d also call out the atheists to define what “God” is, without referring to any particular religious sect, but it cannot be done. Every human has a different conception of God, and some choose to agree on most points and organize themselves into religious groups. In this aspect, I would equate religion with politics; although the focus is slightly different, they both deal with people in the mass. They both seek to control people at the highest levels — through their hopes and fears.

If I had to define myself, I say I was “humanist,” or academically “agnostic,” although it isn’t strictly accurate. In many ways, I think other species have it all over us humans. But anyone who calls him or herself a good person and practices hypocrisy gives a bad name to religion as a human institution in my book. Every instance of scandal in religion drives me further from the acceptance of religious institutions as a viable organizational system for bettering humanity.

Notice that I did not say much about the “afterlife.” In my view, this is simply not important beyond theoretical musing. Anyone who is overly worried about the afterlife is too self-centered (or convinced that others are this way) and needs to take a hard look at him or herself. Thanks for reading to the end!


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