You Can’t Change My Mind!

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Lately, I've noticed a lot of people chatting about religion. It's one of those topics I usually avoid, but sometimes it really gets to me. You can often tell someone's religion by their behavior, clothes, and how they speak. Most people think that if you don't obviously belong to one of the big religions, besides Catholicism and Christianity, you must believe in God. That assumption always bothers me. Like when someone suggests we pray together or says to let God handle it. No thanks, I'm good dealing with it myself. Or even better, it'll work itself out.

I've been chatting with people about religion lately, and surprisingly, the conversations have been amazing. It's pretty rare to have such great discussions these day about religion.

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First Brush with Religion

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I got "christened" as a baby, whatever that means. I'm not really into the idea of christening babies. I think it's something personal that only the person should decide. I did get "baptized" back in high school because all the cool kids were doing it.

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My Choice

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For most of my life, I've had a bit of a different view on religion and religious folks compared to most people. If you've checked out my post "Dear, Religious People," you'll know what I mean. I started going to church as a kid, but it wasn't because my family made me. Actually, it was the opposite. I was probably around 7 or 8 when I told my mom I wanted to go. She had been a few times, but it wasn't really her thing. So, I found friends who went, and their parents would pick me up on Sundays. I went to that first church for years, but now it's so big I hardly recognize it. When a church gets that big, it loses that personal touch.

I can't exactly remember why I stopped going, but I still have good memories of the sweet old pastor. I really liked listening to him, even when I was a kid. He always told personal stories and tied them to the Bible, and the other way around. I remember his name was Pastor Tommy. There was also a kid I was super close to back then—his name was Thomas. He was one of my best friends there, and he was gay. He hadn't come out yet, but as his best friend, I knew. I hope he eventually found the courage to come out.

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Choosing Again to Go

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Back in 10th grade, I moved to this tiny town, and that's where I met one of my best friends. We're still in touch today. The town was super small, with only one high school. I was born and raised, up to this point in my life, in a city that had 12 high schools, so it was a huge change for me. I met her when I was in 11th grade, and she was in 10th. We hung out so much that I started calling her parents mom and dad. We played softball together and even ended up playing against each other once. Her family went to the Baptist church in the next city over—yep, just one Baptist church per city. I stayed there for a few years before heading back to my hometown when I was 18 and a half.

I had a great time there, mostly because of the social aspect, to be honest. I was still pretty curious about religion, though. I ended up going to a week-long summer camp with them three years in a row. I really got into the teachings of the Lord, but I never really felt that personal connection. I never fully believed it, even though I sometimes acted like I did. Or maybe it wasn’t exactly pretending; it was more like trying to want to believe it rather than actually believing it, if that makes sense. Sometimes I forget that not everyone thinks the way I do, so even if it makes sense to me, it might not click for everyone else. I even got a tattoo when I turned 18 of a wooden cross, with a crown of thorns around the top, and two roses intertwining it: red for the blood of Jesus, and white for the purity.

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Let’s Try This Again

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When I went back to my hometown, I decided to check out a different church. It was a small spot, and the pastors are from Australia. They used to be with Hillsong United. I’m not sure if they’ve gone solo, but I do know they’ve turned into one of those mega churches that totally puts me off religion.

But at this particular time in history, it was not a megachurch. It was small, and I knew all the people in our youth group, which included those in their early 20s. I loved going there for a few reasons.

One: I loved the people who went there. I became good friends with them at the time.

Two: I loved doing the community outreach stuff at this church. Soup kitchens, dropping essentials off to Section 8 housing families, picking up trash in the not-so-great areas of the city. I remember being told to be extra careful because we would probably see drug paraphernalia and used condoms; sure enough, we did. Of course, we didn’t touch it. One of the leaders would deal with it. We did a walk and fundraiser for the children of Uganda. That, I really enjoyed.

Three: I loved listening to the Australian accents.

Four: I love the band that played before the youth service. They were like a teenage/young adult rock band. They even opened for Lifehouse once. It was amazing, and I was so proud of them.

Yup, that’s all I can think of. The rest was hogwash. This was during the time they were saving up to become the megachurch that they currently are. Then we had two small buildings in an L shape. The smaller one was mostly where the youth did their stuff, but sometimes we did it in the main area. It was one of those churches that was so small they had to put chairs out during services and then move them out of the way when other things were being done there.

Alright, here's what really bugged me about this church. Every time there was a service, whether for everyone or just the younger folks, the message was always the same. You'd think it would be about God or Jesus, right? Nope! It was mostly about how important it was to bring new people to the church and why you should be giving them your money. It drove me crazy, but hey, those Australian accents! Our youth pastor wasn't Australian, but he was married to one. From the start, I wasn't a big fan of his. Something about him just didn't sit right with me. But I went along for all those good reasons I mentioned before. Right before I left for Air Force boot camp, I set up a meeting with this youth pastor and his wife. Of course, someone else had to be there so there wouldn't be any "boy who cried wolf" situations. I told him how I felt about their terrible sermons from day one. He had lots of comebacks. He was really a charismatic guy and just knew how to draw people in. You know who he kind of reminded me of? Hitler.

Wow, that's a pretty intense comparison. This guy wasn't out there killing people, but he sure knew how to put on a big show for cash. He ended up moving north and started a huge church with Hillsong United. It got even bigger than your usual "mega" church and turned into a spot where celebrities would go. He was that charismatic (like Hitler, good at fooling people). The funny thing is, he proved me right. He cheated on his beautiful wife with the nanny. How's that for this mega religious leader, the same one who brought his wife to our meeting for modesty reasons? Had an affair with his nanny. Mind blown. Yep, he's no longer a pastor, and yep, his reputation is wrecked.

How many times have you heard stories of religious leaders doing perverted things? More than I even care to think.

You see, situations like this do not push me into the “I want to believe in God” phase of my life again.

All those terrible things you hear about happening in the name of religion—how is that supposed to make me want to believe?

I've met some pretty awful people who call themselves religious, usually Christians. On the flip side, some of the nicest folks I've come across are atheists. So, why would I want to believe?

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The Catholic Reign

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I've taken some college classes and learned about the history of the Catholic Church. Honestly, it was pretty terrible, and it still is. I just can't wrap my head around why anyone would believe in it after knowing all that. I could go on and on about the Catholic Church, but that's a conversation for another day.

I've had to sit through a few Catholic services in my life, and honestly, I couldn't stand it. I hated getting sprinkled with water from those strange plant leaves during church. And the drink and stale crackers? Gross!

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Is She Having a Seizure?

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When I was a kid, I had to spend a couple of weeks every summer with my dad, which meant mostly hanging out with my grandparents and aunt. My grandma's church was a must every summer. They lived in a tiny country town, complete with that thick country accent. My grandma was really into her faith—she prayed every day, read the Bible daily, and never missed church as long as I can remember. My grandpa, not so much. But I had to go to church with her, and honestly, it was pretty boring. I even went to vacation Bible school there a few summers. I recently came across some old photos of people I knew back then, and it hit me with a wave of nostalgia. I had a pen pal from that church for years, but eventually, we just drifted apart.

What really freaked me out about this church and made me want to get out of there was seeing my grandma hit the floor, flailing around and babbling nonsense. Did I think she was possessed? Nope, I just thought she'd lost it, and honestly, I still do (RIP grandma).

That definitely did not steer me toward actually believing.

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Family Church to Mega Church

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When I got back from boot camp and tech school after three months, I walked into my old church and barely recognized it. It had turned into this huge place. On the left, there was a daycare (which at one point had a lawsuit against them for child abuse) and college, plus a bookshop and a coffee shop. Yep, this was the same church that used to have just two small buildings where I knew everyone in the youth group. What I came back to was a completely different church. There were massive stadium-like seats, and the stage was gigantic. It felt like a big production. And they still mostly talked about money, which I guess makes sense with all those bills to pay. They even ended up opening another one on the other side of my city. I tried going for a bit but eventually stopped. I moved away and didn’t go to church for many years. I just didn’t feel the urge. I moved around because of the military. I spent five years at one base and never went to church there. Then I moved down south for a year and a half and didn’t try there either. Finally, I moved back to my hometown and started going to the church down the road from where I live now (though I didn’t live here back then).

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Church Down the Road

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I jumped into a Bible study group pretty fast, meeting up once a week. I was part of this church and stuck with the Bible study for years. I even got along with the pastor, his family, and the rest of the staff. But in the end, I realized my complicated mind just won't let me believe.

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Still Nicer

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Even though I'm not into religion, I still think I'm the nicest person you'll ever meet. I genuinely care about everyone and always want the best for them. I'm an empath, so even the smallest things can really affect me. That's why I'm a hospice nurse—I love helping others. Being a good or bad person isn't about religion; religion is simply about your beliefs on life and death.

I just wish people would quit using religion as an excuse to get away with stuff. And it's annoying when they act all holier-than-thou, but then they're not actually good people behind the scenes.

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Religion Plus Politics Equals Bad Juju

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Not everyone is into religion, which pretty much says it all about mixing religion and politics. I already have to deal with the messy political scene in the US, but I shouldn't have to deal with people trying to bring religion into areas where it doesn't belong.

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Not All Kids Believe in God

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School's not really the place for religion. Everyone's got different beliefs, so it doesn't seem right to bring a specific religion into a school unless it's a religious one. I don't tell my kids they can't be into religion. My oldest daughter has visited a few churches with her friends. My youngest son is part of a youth group that meets on Fridays and hangs out sometimes. Our homeschool curriculum is religious-based. I'm mostly okay with it, but I've skipped a few lessons because some stuff is just over the top.

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You Can’t Win

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So, basically, it's not just one thing. It's a whole lifetime of experiences that have shaped how I think today. I don't believe in God, I believe in reincarnation, and nothing's going to change my mind about that.

PS this morning I was reading an article called “How Evolution Led Me to Faith in God” by a man named James W. Miller. This is the part that made me so annoyed I couldn’t even continue reading the nonsense I was seeing.

I didn’t know that believing in God made people rich enough to afford to give a bunch of money to charity. Or that the amount of money you give out makes you “more” moral. Why does the amount of money one spends correlate to morals, and whether one believes in God, or not? Trust me sir!!!! This Atheist will give out a bunch of money to charity when I win the lottery.

This Atheist has also put in more community service hours than most God believers I know, an have ever known.

Honestly, reading this just irked me to no end. People like this will NEVER convince me God is real with this kind of ridiculous argument.