I’m going to chime in here as well. I was also raised by an extremely devout family—they are pastors and Christian counselors, and have religious degrees. As an adult, I began the process of becoming a Catholic—this is not a very good Protestant move, but I was attracted by the relative sophistication of the theology, and a certain contemplative approach one can find there. So until I was 27, while I was finishing graduate school, I was a committed Christian.
You sound like you are already on the fence. You can put the arguments on both sides with greater depth and power than those who have never been on the fence ever can (it’s hard for someone who’s always been secular to really get it, honestly. Not a bad thing, just different). I got to the point where I was on the fence—both sides seemed equally possible. In that situation, your theology/philosophy can get quite sophisticated, since it has to grapple with so many tensions and contradictions. It was a lot of work.
In the end, I realized my gut was driving my head—my intellectual quest was intimately intertwined with and motivated by rather complex emotions. For one thing, I was afraid I would simply have a bad life. A good relationship with God, putting Him first, was the foundation of a happy marriage, the guardian of a sturdy moral life. Would I lose myself in drugs, become a mean person?
I now believe that pinpointing a gut-level bias, an irrational belief that conjures up truly plausible reasoning, and targeting that gut feeling instead of the reasoning, is an extraordinarily difficult and valuable skill. I have done it twice now (once with religion). I think few people have done this, rationalist or otherwise. I think you may need to do this. Focus on your emotional fears rather than the complex intellectual doubts, and with a bit of time you may find things look different.
At least, for myself, when I stopped needing to believe in it so much, I thought about it much less. My religion just sort of fell away, over the next year or so. There were times I missed it, a lot. Mostly not, though. Life is easier without religion, a little more prosaic at times, until I learned to care more about real things than abstract theology/philosophy. There was some anger—evangelicals attach so much baggage to some really trivial things, things that just don’t actually matter to your psyche.
As for the miracles, learning about how modern cults spread was very eye-opening. You can watch baby religions get born, and you can see the elements of human psychology that cause people to believe in miracles and to believe other people who believe in miracles. It’s not just “oh, you can debunk some miracles”—it’s that you can see precisely how miracles get born and their stories spread. If it happens this way now, it probably happened that way then. I found this to be empirical evidence against miracles. An argument in favor of miracles must not only establish a probabilistic argument about the universe, but it must also establish that observable tendencies of humans did not occur on this occasion.
One last thing. I felt more freedom to stop believing, because I had come to believe two things about hell (these may sound like gibberish to non-former-Christians). First, the freedom to say yes includes the freedom to say no. God wants our real yes, therefore God will not punish an honest no. Second, God’s grace comes in subtle, lengthy, drawn-out ways. If God were there and loved us, then our lifelong evolution into the people He meant us to be is precisely what Christ came to accomplish. Rejection of God must mean rejecting these tender workings of grace—not just doubting or rejecting His existence. In other words, a bad Christian is more likely than an honest atheist to go to hell.
I hope it’s not cheeky to say I think you’ll deconvert. The transition can be hard, but I have found it worth it, though not the be-all end-all. I might advise talking with someone sympathetic, like the folks Brillyant recommends. Best of luck. Please update with progress. Message me if I can help.
As for the miracles, learning about how modern cults spread was very eye-opening. You can watch baby religions get born, and you can see the elements of human psychology that cause people to believe in miracles and to believe other people who believe in miracles. It’s not just “oh, you can debunk some miracles”—it’s that you can see precisely how miracles get born and their stories spread. If it happens this way now, it probably happened that way then. I found this to be empirical evidence against miracles. An argument in favor of miracles must not only establish a probabilistic argument about the universe, but it must also establish that observable tendencies of humans did not occur on this occasion.
Yep. I tried to articulate a similar point in an open thread not long ago. This became the lynchpin of my non-belief. It became unnecessary to debunk each individual claim, rather I came to better understand the psychology behind why people tend to believe in such claims, and religion writ large.
Joseph Campbell, Ernest Becker, Michael Shermer (and a bunch of the “New Atheist” gang) have all been helpful to me.
I now believe that pinpointing a gut-level bias, an irrational belief that conjures up truly plausible reasoning, and targeting that gut feeling instead of the reasoning, is an extraordinarily difficult and valuable skill. I have done it twice now (once with religion). I think few people have done this, rationalist or otherwise. I think you may need to do this. Focus on your emotional fears rather than the complex intellectual doubts, and with a bit of time you may find things look different.
I’m curious what other belief, besides religion, you targeted?
This is well stated, by the way. I’ve found it hard to articulate around here (and other places). Indoctrination seems to plant a seed that is (almost) immune to purely rational debunking. As long as God, hell, etc. are non-zero probabilities, there is a deep emotional, fear-filled urge to cling to the “what if?” of one’s childhood religious upbringing.
You have to find a way to examine the indoctrination itself, not it’s manifestations...since there will always be theological gymnastics ready to thwart rational and logical arguments. God is mysterious. God requires faith. God knows your thoughts and motives. You need to look into the “why” God must exhibit these characteristics in order that the religion meme survives. A sufficiently evolved God meme will always survive rational attack—those gods who didn’t are no longer feared or worshiped.
“Indoctrination seems to plant a seed that is (almost) immune to purely rational debunking...You have to find a way to examine the indoctrination itself, not its manifestations.”
I like this concise way of putting it a lot, and it’s heartening to hear someone else had this same difficult-to-articulate experience.
BTW, I think the people downvoting may have mistaken which side these posts are on, due to skimming through the thread.
A good relationship with God, putting Him first, was the foundation of a happy marriage, the guardian of a sturdy moral life. Would I lose myself in drugs, become a mean person?
Well? Are you in a happy marriage? Have you had problems with drugs?
I’m going to chime in here as well. I was also raised by an extremely devout family—they are pastors and Christian counselors, and have religious degrees. As an adult, I began the process of becoming a Catholic—this is not a very good Protestant move, but I was attracted by the relative sophistication of the theology, and a certain contemplative approach one can find there. So until I was 27, while I was finishing graduate school, I was a committed Christian.
You sound like you are already on the fence. You can put the arguments on both sides with greater depth and power than those who have never been on the fence ever can (it’s hard for someone who’s always been secular to really get it, honestly. Not a bad thing, just different). I got to the point where I was on the fence—both sides seemed equally possible. In that situation, your theology/philosophy can get quite sophisticated, since it has to grapple with so many tensions and contradictions. It was a lot of work.
In the end, I realized my gut was driving my head—my intellectual quest was intimately intertwined with and motivated by rather complex emotions. For one thing, I was afraid I would simply have a bad life. A good relationship with God, putting Him first, was the foundation of a happy marriage, the guardian of a sturdy moral life. Would I lose myself in drugs, become a mean person?
I now believe that pinpointing a gut-level bias, an irrational belief that conjures up truly plausible reasoning, and targeting that gut feeling instead of the reasoning, is an extraordinarily difficult and valuable skill. I have done it twice now (once with religion). I think few people have done this, rationalist or otherwise. I think you may need to do this. Focus on your emotional fears rather than the complex intellectual doubts, and with a bit of time you may find things look different.
At least, for myself, when I stopped needing to believe in it so much, I thought about it much less. My religion just sort of fell away, over the next year or so. There were times I missed it, a lot. Mostly not, though. Life is easier without religion, a little more prosaic at times, until I learned to care more about real things than abstract theology/philosophy. There was some anger—evangelicals attach so much baggage to some really trivial things, things that just don’t actually matter to your psyche.
As for the miracles, learning about how modern cults spread was very eye-opening. You can watch baby religions get born, and you can see the elements of human psychology that cause people to believe in miracles and to believe other people who believe in miracles. It’s not just “oh, you can debunk some miracles”—it’s that you can see precisely how miracles get born and their stories spread. If it happens this way now, it probably happened that way then. I found this to be empirical evidence against miracles. An argument in favor of miracles must not only establish a probabilistic argument about the universe, but it must also establish that observable tendencies of humans did not occur on this occasion.
One last thing. I felt more freedom to stop believing, because I had come to believe two things about hell (these may sound like gibberish to non-former-Christians). First, the freedom to say yes includes the freedom to say no. God wants our real yes, therefore God will not punish an honest no. Second, God’s grace comes in subtle, lengthy, drawn-out ways. If God were there and loved us, then our lifelong evolution into the people He meant us to be is precisely what Christ came to accomplish. Rejection of God must mean rejecting these tender workings of grace—not just doubting or rejecting His existence. In other words, a bad Christian is more likely than an honest atheist to go to hell.
I hope it’s not cheeky to say I think you’ll deconvert. The transition can be hard, but I have found it worth it, though not the be-all end-all. I might advise talking with someone sympathetic, like the folks Brillyant recommends. Best of luck. Please update with progress. Message me if I can help.
Yep. I tried to articulate a similar point in an open thread not long ago. This became the lynchpin of my non-belief. It became unnecessary to debunk each individual claim, rather I came to better understand the psychology behind why people tend to believe in such claims, and religion writ large.
Joseph Campbell, Ernest Becker, Michael Shermer (and a bunch of the “New Atheist” gang) have all been helpful to me.
I’m curious what other belief, besides religion, you targeted?
This is well stated, by the way. I’ve found it hard to articulate around here (and other places). Indoctrination seems to plant a seed that is (almost) immune to purely rational debunking. As long as God, hell, etc. are non-zero probabilities, there is a deep emotional, fear-filled urge to cling to the “what if?” of one’s childhood religious upbringing.
You have to find a way to examine the indoctrination itself, not it’s manifestations...since there will always be theological gymnastics ready to thwart rational and logical arguments. God is mysterious. God requires faith. God knows your thoughts and motives. You need to look into the “why” God must exhibit these characteristics in order that the religion meme survives. A sufficiently evolved God meme will always survive rational attack—those gods who didn’t are no longer feared or worshiped.
“Indoctrination seems to plant a seed that is (almost) immune to purely rational debunking...You have to find a way to examine the indoctrination itself, not its manifestations.” I like this concise way of putting it a lot, and it’s heartening to hear someone else had this same difficult-to-articulate experience.
BTW, I think the people downvoting may have mistaken which side these posts are on, due to skimming through the thread.
Hopefully posts don’t get simply downvoted based on the side they are on. I haven’t downvoted but I guess it’s because the post isn’t very clear.
Well? Are you in a happy marriage? Have you had problems with drugs?