Kurieuo wrote:Not sure if this has been covered, but what was the turning point in your life away from Christianity?
DannyM wrote:Thank you for being so candid. I've highlighted Kurieuo's question to you because I was going to ask you the same question. What turned you away from your belief? Was it a specific thing or was it gradual?
Well, it was a long and complicated internal process. I can only begin to describe it here, but I will do what I can.
Regarding your question, in one sense it was quite gradual. In another sense, though, there was a specific moment of conscious acceptance where I finally admitted to myself that I did not believe in all that Christianity stuff. Allow me to elaborate:
There were several important factors that led to my eventual rejection of Christ. One of them is as follows: When I was a teenager, my parents and some of the congregants at my church told me that we cannot prove God, but that we must have faith. I misinterpreted this* as meaning that there is no objectively rational reason to believe in God, much less the Christian God. At the same time, though, I had an unwavering (initially) conviction that God was real, and that his Holy Spirit was at work in the church. So, I turned to the Scriptures, and misinterpreted them, too. I concluded from a few comments by Paul, in particular Ep 2:8, that belief in God is itself is a gift from the Holy Spirit. In other words, the Holy Spirit, I reasoned, must be at work in me, causing me to believe in the saving power of Christ. I came to understand that the Holy Spirit was believing for me, and through me.
In fact, the Holy Spirit did a lot of things, I thought. When I honored God by obeying my parents, that obedience wasn't my own work---for I only have a sinful nature, and nothing capable of good (Ro 1, 7)---but rather the Holy Spirit working through me, as it worked through Paul before me. Similarly, when I honored Jesus by believing in His atoning Sacrifice, and calling on Him for guidance, that was really the Holy Spirit working through me to believe in and call on Him. It could not possibly have been my own doing, I thought, because I was a horrible person in whom nothing good lived, and who deserved the just punishment of eternal torture in Hades for my earthly crimes, and those of my ancestors back to Adam.
Now, at this point I may have you thinking that I was somehow setting myself up for an emotional breakdown by piling up guilt. However, let me assure you that it wasn't like that. I did feel extremely guilty, to be sure, and that took an emotional toll on me. But I wasn't consumed by it. For the most part, I was a happy person, taking comfort in the miraculously generous gift of Salvation offered to me by God through his son Jesus Christ, and his minister the Holy Spirit. I have explained my view of the Holy Spirit's role in my behavior to help you understand how I saw Him working to help me believe in Jesus.
So, what was my problem, then, if not guilt? Well, in short, my problem was doubt. I couldn't help but recognize that the doctrines of Christianity were completely unsupported by the evidence. Perhaps more seriously, it was extremely easy for me to see why people thought Christianity wasn't true, because when I read narrative Scripture such as Genesis and Exodus, I could imagine how those stories might have sprung up in superstitious and uneducated populations. For a long while I didn't let these doubts get to me, because, after all, everyone has doubts, and that's just our sinful nature rearing its ugly head. I trusted the Holy Spirit to protect me, and keep me a believer. The ancient Hebrews weren't superstitious, I told myself. They were God's chosen people, and the Bible was the inspired Word of God. But the doubts returned time and again, increasing in frequency as the years rolled on.
And indeed it was those doubts, I think, which led most directly to my eventual loss of faith. It became progressively more difficult for me to justify my belief. Doctrine told me that the Holy Spirit was working in me, but by age 20 I could find no evidence of this. I stopped attending church regularly, and even though I still prayed and studied Scripture seriously, my trust in God began to wane significantly. It just didn't make sense. Why was God not clearly present? Why was there no good evidence for his existence? Why was my religion just one of numerous such religions lacking empirical support?
But despite these snowballing doubts, I remained committed to Christianity. I still believed in God---just not as strongly as I had as a teenager. This persistence of belief was due to my intense fear of death. I did not want to simply wink out of existence when my body failed me. The thought of that terrified me, and I clung to the hope of Jesus Christ to rescue me from that fate. In the end, though, even that fear could not keep me from acknowledging the irrationality of believing in the Christian religion. So, one day, at age 22, I consciously admitted to myself that I could no longer claim to be a Christian, because my doubts had grown so much that by then they outweighed my belief.
So now hopefully you have a better idea of what I mean when I say that it was gradual in one sense and sudden in another. The doubts had welled up very slowly at first, and more quickly in the end. But it was a long, drawn out process---the culmination of which was a single moment where I confessed to myself that I was no longer a Christian.
And that was that. Over the next few years I continued to study Christian doctrine and history, and I also became interested in philosophy. At age 22, just after losing my faith, I called myself an agnostic (and later a "weak" atheist). By age 27 I had learned enough about philosophy to actively deny the existence of God, and since then I have been a strong atheist.
I hope my story was not too boring. Remember, though, that I said it was a complicated process. This is an extremely digested version of what happened. But I think the above paragraphs capture the most important elements of my theological journey, as it were.
*- As it turns out, they didn't mean what I thought they meant. In later conversations with my parents, for example, they insisted that we can know God through personal experience, and through creation. But at the time, I misunderstood them to mean that we must have blind faith if we are to have faith at all.