Sometimes I miss being a Christian. I don’t miss Christianity, but I miss being a part of this whole thing. This whole thing that goes on at this school, where I am way out of the loop.
Tonight I went to All-School Communion for the first time in a long time. We have this once a month (it’s not mandatory), where communion is served in the chapel, and there’s worship music and a speaker. It usually lasts about an hour and a half. I stayed for the whole thing, dodging in between spectator and participant. It was strange. I went initially because I missed worship music, but was a bit dismayed to find that after skivving off chapel so much, many of the songs were new.
At times I got really into the music and the atmosphere of the place, and I actually felt like I was one of them. I felt like I actually was a Christian and like I believed what I was singing. That felt good, to tell the truth. For a few moments, I detached myself and thought: it is not that unlikely that I could become a Christian again tonight. I really felt like a Christian; I could just go through the motions and become a part of this community again and will myself into believing that I actually love God. Nobody would be able to tell that I don’t actually believe in God. I might not even be able to tell the difference… But that would make me delusional. So I snapped out of it.
At other times, especially during the breaking of bread and all the prayers and proclamations that go with that, it felt very foreign and ghastly. Like some bloody ritual of sacrifice on a Mayan temple. The ritual of eating the bread and drinking the grape juice itself didn’t seem odd to me, but the words around it and chaplain digging his fingers into the bread to break the loaf, and the flickering candles and wooden cross, seemed so cult-like and barbaric.
Not long ago, I was one of the students serving communion, holding the bread and grape juice and solemn with the privilege of serving my classmates and serving God. At the time I truly saw that as a privilege. I loved it. It’s a good memory.
I’ve been a Christian for a lot of my life, including the most important years thus far. These songs and prayers and rituals are a big part of what my life has been. I try to remember them for memory’s sake, to remember them as I saw them then. I want to count as good memories those that were good to me at the time, and not edit them, for then they wouldn’t be true memories.
This place is full of memories for me. I remember freshman year and our first worship service during orientation week. It was truly amazing, the place was filled with students singing out to God for hours, and even when it was over we didn’t want to leave, we kept singing, until finally those of us that were left gathered for prayer and left reluctantly. I remember thinking that that night was one of the best of my life, that God must have such amazing things in store for me at Wheaton.
I remember the first all-school communion I went to, and one of the songs we sang which we also sang tonight– it reminded me of that day 3 years ago, and people jumping up and down and dancing in the aisles. That’s Wheaton. Those are my memories of Wheaton. It kind of sucks– I wish I had better memories of college– but that’s what my college experience has been. I have to accept it and take those memories as my own.
I was really in love with God. I think I just remembered tonight, vividly, just how much I was a part of this. I spent most of my college years being hopelessly in love with God and being consumed by it, so that even now there’s nothing else that I can talk about with as much passion. When I think about God now there’s nothing there, and it grieves me a little to see my former self so consumed and devoted to something so unimpressive. But it was real to me then, so when I remember, I try to remember as if it were real.
A small part of me wishes that I could have that much passion for something again. Being an atheist makes me at times exhilarated and happy. But you can’t have passion and devotion for nothing. I’m looking now for something to be passionate about, something to fall in love with. I guess I’m so used to that vacancy being filled by God, I don’t know how to have normal passions. It’s hard for such an entrenched Christian to learn how to be a normal person.
[...] communion, jumbled memories, passion leavingeden put an intriguing blog post on all-school communion, jumbled memories, passionHere’s a quick [...]
Although I’ve never really been a Christian, I can completely understand your dilemma. It’s a hard situation, and I don’t think anybody can offer you a definitive answer. In a way, I think we all face this problem in some form.
But, it’s important to remember that a lie is a lie no matter how nice it sounds. Even when the lie appears to be the solution to all your problems, it’s still a lie. Nothing can ever change that.
If you care passionality about the truth (and not comfort), then you will search for truth no matter what you will find. There is no eternal promise that the truth is what you want it to be.
If you need the lie to survive, then by all means, live it. But don’t try to trick yourself into believing it’s really the truth just because you need it to be true.
“Cult-like and barbaric” – I get that same feeling if I visit a church doing communion nowadays. It’s so unreal, like you’re watching a weird ritual in which people are entranced. The eeriness of the whole experience really turns me off now.
I’d avoid relating atheism to “believing in nothing”. I see it as a state of being free from silly superstitions. It’s up to you to do what you want with that freedom. A lot of people describe themselves more aptly as Humanists, and can do a ton of good for others without getting religion involved. That seems to fill such a hole, especially for those raised in a home devoted to “doing good”.
Daniel Dennett offers this advice to living a happy life:
Well, if you’re a Randian, that wouldn’t help that much.
I can identify with you completely on this going back to church thing. For a while, I longed to be back a part of that, but then I remembered why I’d left.
Now, the idea of raising my hands and singing sounds so completely idiotic that I don’t really understand how anyone can do it. I remember the emotional responses I used to get, but now I have to ask myself how in the world I was satisfied with merely that.
It’s like how I would imagine having sex without love; You’re only getting part of the experience. Emotional responses should be reactions to something real. Like the Hubble Ultra Deep Field. Or Euler’s formula. Or millions of other things.
To worship only for the emotions is to betray the very thing emotions should be about.
Ok, stopping now before I go into full rant mode.
Wow. Simply, wow.
[...] This post nearly floored me just now. Sometimes I miss being a Christian. I don’t miss Christianity, but I miss being a part of this whole thing… [...]
You’ll get there…it just takes time.
And you’ll feel different once you’re away from this environment where you mostly are pretending and mostly can’t be yourself. You’ll find lots of things to be passionate about when your world is bigger than ‘Wheaton College’.
I can relate. The one thing that I missed when I stopped considering myself Christian was the fellowship, and the church atmosphere. When I have occasion to attend a church service (usually to help my mom with something), it all feels empty and hollow to me now, but there was a time when it hurt to feel…everything going on around me, and not to feel like I was a part of it. It gets better, if you let it. And, yes, it does help to find some sort of substitute activity.
Maybe that was God pursueing you and reminding you of the good thing that HE misses with you. It is never too late to go back to HIM. I am not talking the whole Christianity thing..because some of it is not real..But Christ He is real, and I know how much HE loves and wants you back.
Happy memories are powerful and can be confusing. As your life unfolds you will create new ones, full of joy and passion and mystery and meaning, that aren’t inextricably linked to being Christian. Then it will be easier for you not to feel drawn back to something which you know no longer rings true for you, yet has a strong emotional pull because of the powerful happy memories.
You will find out how to be deeply engaged in life and you will find people to be deeply engaged with who allow you to engage on your own terms rather than forcing you to conform to theirs.
Soon you will have other directions to look as well as back and they will draw you as strongly or more strongly than the Christian memories.
You will always have the option to go back if you decide you ‘made a mistake’. But don’t let emotions take you where you really don’t want to go. Hold out for what’s best.
“Sometimes I miss being a Christian. I don’t miss Christianity, but I miss being a part of this whole thing.”
Sometimes my body still thrills to the sound of a certain hymn. Or I recall singing a campfire song, the cold at my back, warmth of the fire, and the flickering light playing on the faces of other campers.
Even though I know that the instant ‘belonging’ in a church (well, certain churches) is conditional and that I’m no longer able to meet those conditions, I’m sometimes wistful for the high of that phenomenon.
Maybe you’ve posted about this elsewhere, but – have you read _Leaving the Fold_ by Marlene Winell? She talks about validating the good memories.
I was raised as a fundy … such that Wheaton (in IL) was not viewed as a Christian college. Bill Gothard is “forgiven” for having gone there, and people pray for GWB to become “a real Christian.” Yet there are still things I miss. It’s like growing up in one language, then moving to another country and learning that language, and passing for a native of both but never feeling either one is the full picture.
Wow, I hate xian music, mostly. I don’t miss going to church but am resigned to show up once in a while for appearances and because my wife cares a little bit about it.
When I was a kid, the whole talk of blood was very disturbing: Shedding blood, “covered in the blood of the lamb”, and other gross phrases. I was embarrased to be a part of such things. As I got older I became desensitized to it so that even now I don’t really get weirded out by talk of the blood of Jesus or the atonement or anything else. But, I realize that I SHOULD. It’s a very backward idea.
The idea of justice being eternal Hell for petty crimes is another of many ideas that ought to seem foreign and warped to me, but unfortunately through years of acclimation, do not sting my conscience one bit.
Have you considered going to a Unitarian-Universalist church? that’s what I did. It has the sense of community that you are looking for, and is very open. I’ve met many atheists, agnostics, deists, and other humanists there. You should try it.
I felt the exact same way when I was leaving the evangelical Christian organization. It was like I’m half in the door, half out. Some of it felt real, the spirit of it, but all the rest, the words in the bible, the zeal of the other congregates, the praying, just seemed unreal.
Eventually I reached a point where I realized “I don’t belong here”, and “I’m not being honest by saying I believe any of this anymore”. Mental and emotional honesty is what it’s all about more so than giving empty lip service.
I’ve been to UU, but to an ex-fundie evangelical like myself, it feels like play acting. Even to say something like “well, get a hobby” echoes hollowly. It’s kind of like the end of a relationship (except the relationship is with this communally shared concept instead of another person). You’ve built your life around another person, and it’s gone badly, and now you have to tear down and rebuild your life all by yourself and alone.
There is a certain honest rebellion against an inherited religion that can be very constructive. On the other hand, there is a dishonest form of rebellion that accepts the comforts of a christian lifestyle but derides its adherents and believes that the grass must somehow be greener in some distant world view. I’m not sure where you are coming from but I think that you would find it interesting to live around some committed atheists for a while and see where their belief system has lead them. You might, for example, consider transferring to a state university where you can evaluate for yourself the consequences of an “enlightened” attitude towards life. Alternatively, you could actively seek out those who have thought though some of the issues related to atheism and faith. The following URL is a hour long interview with a Harvard prof who has had ample opportunity to view both sides of this issue and developed some very positive insights. http://download.publicradio.org/podcast/speakingoffaith/20071018_atheism-religion.mp3
I know this is an old post, but I had to respond!
but I think that you would find it interesting to live around some committed atheists for a while and see where their belief system has lead them
*raises hand* I’m one of those deconverted, “commited atheists” who attended a technical school and lived an “enlightened” attitude towards life. In other words, Laurence would probably call me a “hell-raiser”.
My belief system, I feel, has lead me towards a deep and abiding compassion for the people around me; people of all ethnicities, all faiths, and all walks of life. For everybody, Catholic or Protestant, Atheist or evangelical, life is one long, slow grind towards death. We can live that grind joyfully and full of love for each other and for this great planet, or we can live it regretfully and judgementally. One thing that I’ve learned since my deconversion is that Christians haven’t cornered the market on Joy!
I *love* going back to church and singing old hymns. Why not? You gotta do what Jews do: differentiate between the religion (which requires certain beliefs) and the culture (which doesn’t).
Although I’m an atheist, my upbringing was such that the center of all family and community experiences I’ve ever had was Christian. So I feel entitled even as an atheist to cook from the church cookbook and I plan on humming “How Great Thou Art” to my children to lull them asleep.
[Side note: How freaky is it taking communion after you denounce God? I grew up in a transubstantiation church, and they'd somehow managed to convince me (maybe based on 1 Corinthians 11:27?) that non-believers would spontaneously combust if they ingested Our Lord. It was a very atheism-confirming game of Russian Roulette.]