Five thousand four hundred twenty-seven days ago, I visited Garrison Creek Baptist Church after having been invited by an online friend, something which was altogether new for me, considering this was 2001 and meeting folks in real life who were first met online carried with it a fairly significant stigma of danger.
The acceptance of that invitation changed my life substantially in that within the span of just a few months, I became increasingly enamored with the church experience and the religion of Christianity.
I didn’t just went to church, I went to church three times a week for services and gladly went at every other opportunity, including spending Saturday evenings at the church assisting in the preparation of the bulletins for Sunday morning.
A lot changed, year to year, during my time as a Christian. My choices and my doctrinal self-education led to changes in where I felt most comfortable attending church until I became disillusioned with the whole idea of corporate church services altogether, finding the idea to be both unnecessary and unbiblical.
Nine years after first attending Garrison Creek, I found myself exploring a passage of the Bible on my own, no doubt in reference to some debate or whatever online, that of Deuteronomy 22.
I lost my faith when I saw that God required virgins to marry their rapist. I didn’t talk to anyone about it but instead let my faith collapse in upon itself, and I did not look back.
That is, until recently. Folks who know me may have noticed a relaxation in my usually common “attacks” against Christianity on outlets such as Facebook; my personal profile has become far more political, and my page Secular Now, I’ve increasingly ignored.
I realize now that I have been led astray. I’ve been cavalier with the truth, and in my blasphemies, I’ve risked literally all I have to risk. And I’ve reached the point at which I can no longer keep up the façade.
I’ve often said, since leaving Christianity, that if Jesus’ followers would actually just listen to Jesus, the world would be much better off; I realize now that so perfect a moral system — which uplifts the most under of dogs and is designed to bring out the best in anyone who practices it — could only come from divinity.
I cannot call myself a Christian — far from it — for the Bible says that anyone who takes God’s name in vain will not be held guiltless.
But I can call myself one of his.
I’m learning anew what that means for my life, and I seek to share that journey with you here at On Sixes & Sevens — sixes denoting earthly topics, sevens denoting heavenly.
Half a decade has passed since I’ve stood with the Lord’s flock. It’s time to get caught up, and may I find mercy for my fervent attacks against the religion of God.
April fool! No, I have not abandoned free thought to return to the chains of religion. The actual inaugural post is coming soon!