Why I'm not a religious man.
Welcome to the first semi-serious blog post from me. As the title suggests, I've subsided the music talk for a brief moment to consider a more emotive reflection about why I have the religious beliefs I do. I consider myself atheist, though on paper I am a Roman Catholic and was raised a devout Christian, at least until my father was ex-communicated for a reason none of the members of our family are completely clued-in about. I believe it had something to do with the Parish priest wanting to bless my parents' marriage, despite them having married in a church and in the eyes of God fourteen years previously, so upon denying to sanctify their marriage he ex-communicated them in front of the assembly of Sunday Mass. Pleasant fellow. I went to a Catholic Primary school in which our R.E. classes taught us only what Catholics believed; attended a secondary school with no religious denomination; a 6th Form which was staunchly Protestant and had close ties with the town Abbey; and I'm now attending a University with one of the strongest Anglican support systems in the UK in the Ancient Capital of England, the City of Winchester. So I've met many different angles of belief when it comes to Christianity and yet, since that five-year period with no religious interference during secondary school, I've not been able to reignite any longing for the fear of God to rekindle itself with me.
But unlike most cynics, those who've never had a religious upbringing and Richard Dawkins, I didn't jump to the conclusion of atheism first and then accumulate the knowledge to bring me right back to where I started. I believed in God, Jesus and Satan (sort of) from the start. And also unlike the far more fervent Dawkins, I'm not here to persuade you to believe what I believe, but since you've been so kind as to click in to my Blog I'd have hoped the unwritten comprehension that you're about to read my opinions is clearly understood, but please be sure to utilise the wonderfully-presented comment box at the bottom of the post if you have issues with my spelling. You see, where Dawkins is different not only in his methodology of belief but also his justification, is that he actively enforces an ideology of his own that stands beyond simply disposing of the belief of God, and it's fair to say he's slightly more relentless than I in trying to prove it.
I continued exploring my religion. I experienced many ups and downs in that journey, and as the whispering playfulness of childhood innocence left me during secondary school and I became... an arguably less model Christian (parts of which I still struggle with today)... I came to the point where I found that it might be impossible to truly believe when so much terror was going on in the world. The London bombings brought the frailty of humanity to everyone's mind as many innocents were killed; the Kashmir 7.6 Earthquake in Pakistan killed many more; Hurricane Katrina had just destroyed the American Gulf coast in one of the most devastating natural disasters in history, and Pope John Paul II had passed away. Looking back, it was by the end of this year - my first in secondary education and the first time Mass was no longer ingrained as a necessary Sunday activity - that I really began to question my beliefs. I plateaued somewhat for a while, and then coming across a passage in the Bible which really bothered me, I sat back at thought about whether or not it was really that logical to read the Bible anymore:
I couldn't conceive any God (especially since this God seemed to me more like an ‘idea’ at the time) was more worthy of my love that my family was. It just didn't make sense. It's asking to give abstract emotional attention to an abstract form. Again, no sense was made. And then, as the real turning point for me, I watched a repeat showing of Derren Brown's 2004 TV Special Séance, which, if I recall correctly, has since become one of the most complained-about programme in TV history. In it, I watched in complete disbelief as a smug and self-important Brown caused a number of paranormal events, much to the sheer horror and fright of both those in the room and those watching. Impaired vision through hidden cameras and dim candle-light made it hard to see the workings of what was soon revealed to be a massive hoax (by Brown himself; the show was aimed to disprove the legitimacy of 17th-18th century seances).
This got me me thinking about how much I could 'see' with regard to my dwindling belief in God. I no longer read the Bible, having discovered the heinous chapters under Leviticus' name. But I still sort of wanted to believe there was something out there, but like the 12 bewildered volunteers in Séance, it was fairly impossible to test for legitimacy when your own vision disallowed you from ever finding out the truth.
I remember mocking those who believed in the paranormal shortly after, thinking myself numinously enlightened by Brown and his all-encompassing powers of discovering and exploiting fraudulence. It took me less than a year to realise that in fact, I was part of the same belief system as they were. I believed in God; they believed in spirits. Spot the difference. There isn't one, and there isn't one because there's just as much historical documentation about the existence of ghosts, demons, witches and the undead as there is for God, angels, apostles, Jesus and The Holy Ghost. Who was I to say spiritualists were wrong? Who was I to say that there beliefs were foolish and mine weren't? Just because my belief system was arguably more mainstream than their's didn't make mine a more factual historical entity. And sure, it's a comforting thought to be able to feed off the 'sense' of your cohort in order to validate our own beliefs, but since when did the popularity of a belief constitute it's accuracy?
And right now, I'm not really belonging to any religious system. I believe you can have faith - you can have faith in anything. A god, a person, or a chair in hoping it won't fall when you lean back in it. But faith should be individual. Faith is not something that should be enforced onto others or used as a tool in validating arguments with tenuous existential links, otherwise we're stuck back in religious territory and we end up with idiots like the Scientologists.
End note: Writing this blog is the first time I've really consolidated my thoughts on this matter. I suppose I thought it'd help in some way... Hmmm...
- Tom, pluk, Phill Pritchard and 2 others
- 5
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