A price of leaving religion: shunning

If your brother sins, go and show him his fault in private; if he listens to you, you have won your brother. But if he does not listen to you, take one or two more with you, so that by the mouth of two or three witnesses every fact may be confirmed. If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector. ~ Matthew 18:15-17

It’s been quite a while since I’ve posted, but something has been weighing on me over the last year or so — shunning. This isn’t my most eloquent post, but I need to get it off my chest. Since I initially told some religious friends about doubting my faith a year and a half ago (as well as some details from my personal life), I have gradually lost a number of friends. As of today, I’d put that number at 8, based on who I’d define as a having been a friend (there’s easily another 8, at least, who were in my group of friends who want nothing to do with me, not to mention people I knew from church).

These people vary in degrees of (former) friendship, from close friends to “we go out together several times a year and talk about real things of substance when we see each other” type friends. They also vary in how long I’ve known them (1-10 years) and they vary in how much I had told them about my doubts (I only told two of them that I don’t believe in god at all anymore). And, they vary in the ways in which they shunned me from their lives. One, who was a close friend for about 4 or 5 years, continues to talk to me and is willing to hang out with me, but hasn’t discussed his personal life or asked me about mine and avoids any discussion of religion — our relationship went from a deep connection to talking about beer and workplace quirks. Another doesn’t respond to any of my attempts to get together. Another spottily responds, but always declines. Another told a mutual friend of his hesitation to continue being friends with me. And, another, in the most passive aggressive form possible, un-friended me on Facebook.

The amazing thing about every single case is this: no one, not one, nada, zip, zilch, attempted to talk to me about what I was thinking, feeling, or experiencing. Not one. The things I told them, varying person to person, were all unsolicited. Not one remotely tried to understand where I was coming from. Instead, they bolted from me. These are people I broke bread with as we shared intimate details of our lives and talked about substantive issues. And, all it took was me saying, “I’m not sure I believe in a god/Christianity/Catholicism/religion anymore,” to throw it all away. And, not one of them bothered to ask any questions as to why, although I’m sure each has their own narrative as to the cause(s) of my falling away.

I’ve talked to a number of non-fundamentalist/conservative Christian friends of mine and a few of them pointed out that many Christians feel personally attacked when you don’t ascribe to their religion — they feel like you are rejecting such a core part of their identity that you are, by extension, rejecting them as an individual. Which, I think is not just a Christian mindset, but a tribalist mindset in general. What I find ironic about this is that while I didn’t actually personally slight any of them, they in return slighted me for not being unquestioning in my support of their god.

Another thing I think may have played into their shunning of me is conservative Christianity’s tendency to punish anything they don’t approve of. It’s why they want to deny access to contraception, abortion, and sex education — they want to make sure that the odds of suffering consequences for any sex they don’t approve of is as high as possible. It’s why they want employers and merchants to be able to discriminate based on sexual orientation or religion. And, it’s why they shun ex-believers — they want to make sure that we suffer consequences for our unbelief (I’m assuming in the hopes that it will make us come around when we realize what kind of terrible life it is to not be a part of their tribe).

All of which to say, I am hurt. I’m hurt that my friends who I felt a close connection with as individual persons could so easily turn on me. I’m hurt that they didn’t have the most basic of decencies to say a word to me about it. I’m sad that the affiliations of a person mean more than their character. But, I also shouldn’t be surprised. Humans are a tribalistic bunch, even outside of religion. You’re either with the tribe or against the tribe. And, as much as I hoped my friends weren’t like the vast majority of the human race, realistically there was no chance that they’d all abandon their tribal instincts. But, I think, at the end of the day, it was a good learning experience for me. I will be more realistic in the future. And, it has made me more self-aware of my own tribalistic moments, which I hope in turn makes me a more accepting and understanding person.

If anyone comes to you and does not bring this teaching, do not receive him into your house, and do not give him a greeting; for the one who gives him a greeting participates in his evil deeds. ~ 2 John 1:10-11

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Human value and protecting God

I came across this post on Rational Doubt from a former pastor on how praising God often comes at the expense of denigrating humanity in many Christian circles.

I’d probably sung the song a hundred times, swaying to its gentle melodies with arms uplifted and eyes closed.  It was one of those praise choruses evangelical Christians love to sing, a few words repeated over and over again –

“You alone I long to worship.  You alone are worthy of praise.”

We sang until we were oblivious to our surroundings and open to the Spirit.  Having practiced this form of spiritual reflection often, I was startled when my inner voice said, “That can’t be true.”

[…] Every human life had worth.  Nearly everyone did something worthy of praise.

[…] Of all the religions I’ve studied, Christianity has the poorest opinion of human nature.  Christian theology, rhetoric and music often praises God’s magnificence at human expense.  According to orthodox theology, we are born into sin, doomed from our first breath.  Though Christianity says we were created in God’s image, that image was quickly and irrevocably broken and twisted by sin.

[…] When my children were born, I didn’t look at them and despair[…] While I knew they would make mistakes, I saw this not as a moral failing, but as a necessary process.  What I expected from them was not perfection, but eventual maturity, the ability to live life with wisdom and sensitivity[…] Eventually, I realized my opinion of my children was more praiseworthy than God’s opinion of me.

This was something I grappled with growing up Evangelical. Why do good things happen if humans could do no good? If no one could do good, why do we spend so much time shaming certain acts? If no one could do good, why do we spend time pushing for laws to try to force people into good acts? Why should I trust that my parents, or teachers, or pastors if they’re depraved humans like me? Continue reading