The Second Baby Steps Away From Faith
In my last entry about dropping my religious beliefs, I mentioned that I had doubts about the Christianity that I had been taught. As I got older, I convinced myself that my questions and doubts were childish, that my doubts and objections should be more sophisticated and intellectual. Now, I realize that the questions I had are more profound and important than a teen-aged me or even a preteen me was willing to admit.
I had two questions about life and death and the afterlife. The first question I will discuss was first based on the universalist version of Christianity I was taught. It still was important to me when I learned that most Christians believed in Heaven and Hell. My question was “If God loves us so much, why aren’t we born in Heaven and live there forever?” I saw, even at an early age, that life was hard for many people, that many people suffered from sickness and poverty, and death always caused people fear and sadness. Why did some beings, mainly angels, get to live in Heaven without the pain that we had?
If we were in Heaven from the moment of our births, we could be good to each other. Life on Earth made it too hard to be good all the time, and too easy to give in to anger and fears. If we were not good enough for Heaven, why did God make us with such weaknesses and meanness? It seemed cruel to make us live such sad and painful lives when He could have spared us all of it.
Then there was the problem that I liked living on Earth and I did not want to leave it. It came down to a combination of a loving family, good friends, wonderful animals, and a home in beautiful mountain country.
Then there was the question that bothered me most.
“How do we know it is true?”
That has been the central philosophical question of my life.
I asked if we could call Heaven on the phone. I asked if we could visit Heaven. Could people in Heaven visit us? Could people in Heaven or God send us letters? I was told that we knew from the Bible (or from Jesus, who also was not answering phone calls or letters either.) The trouble was that I learned at an early age that there were fictions and there were lies. I learned about both watching TV and movies, and by hearing and reading stories. People could lie, or make mistakes. Books could be wrong too. So, how do we know it is true?
The answer that we couldn’t know it was true, not to the level that satisfied me.
I later learned of other religions. Mostly, I heard about Buddhism, which both my parents knew about. It made me feel more doubt about all of them. If the religion was true, and described how the universe worked, everyone should say it was so. When I was older, I learned about science deniers and those who advocated alternate versions of science, history, geography, and others.
But I also had lingering doubts about my doubt. Early childhood instruction and peer pressure made me think that there might be a Christian God. I was not very strongly convinced though.
As I got older, I read more. My two greatest interests were, and are, history and science. I learned that many things that religions taught were in conflict with science and history. So when I asked how scientists know things, I was shown the basics of the scientific method. When I asked how historians knew things, I was shown the basics of historical research. Many fields understand doubt, and try to incorporate it into their methods. Religion generally does not.
So by about eight years old, I was an agnostic with a lot to learn (and some to unlearn.)
I had two questions about life and death and the afterlife. The first question I will discuss was first based on the universalist version of Christianity I was taught. It still was important to me when I learned that most Christians believed in Heaven and Hell. My question was “If God loves us so much, why aren’t we born in Heaven and live there forever?” I saw, even at an early age, that life was hard for many people, that many people suffered from sickness and poverty, and death always caused people fear and sadness. Why did some beings, mainly angels, get to live in Heaven without the pain that we had?
If we were in Heaven from the moment of our births, we could be good to each other. Life on Earth made it too hard to be good all the time, and too easy to give in to anger and fears. If we were not good enough for Heaven, why did God make us with such weaknesses and meanness? It seemed cruel to make us live such sad and painful lives when He could have spared us all of it.
Then there was the problem that I liked living on Earth and I did not want to leave it. It came down to a combination of a loving family, good friends, wonderful animals, and a home in beautiful mountain country.
Then there was the question that bothered me most.
“How do we know it is true?”
That has been the central philosophical question of my life.
I asked if we could call Heaven on the phone. I asked if we could visit Heaven. Could people in Heaven visit us? Could people in Heaven or God send us letters? I was told that we knew from the Bible (or from Jesus, who also was not answering phone calls or letters either.) The trouble was that I learned at an early age that there were fictions and there were lies. I learned about both watching TV and movies, and by hearing and reading stories. People could lie, or make mistakes. Books could be wrong too. So, how do we know it is true?
The answer that we couldn’t know it was true, not to the level that satisfied me.
I later learned of other religions. Mostly, I heard about Buddhism, which both my parents knew about. It made me feel more doubt about all of them. If the religion was true, and described how the universe worked, everyone should say it was so. When I was older, I learned about science deniers and those who advocated alternate versions of science, history, geography, and others.
But I also had lingering doubts about my doubt. Early childhood instruction and peer pressure made me think that there might be a Christian God. I was not very strongly convinced though.
As I got older, I read more. My two greatest interests were, and are, history and science. I learned that many things that religions taught were in conflict with science and history. So when I asked how scientists know things, I was shown the basics of the scientific method. When I asked how historians knew things, I was shown the basics of historical research. Many fields understand doubt, and try to incorporate it into their methods. Religion generally does not.
So by about eight years old, I was an agnostic with a lot to learn (and some to unlearn.)