To Christians Who Apologize for "Christians"
As I was leaving my family reunion, a relative felt moved to apologize to me on behalf of Christians who had been unkind to me. I stopped her mid-sentence and am sending this letter in response.
Dear [Genuine Christian],
I wanted to apologize for interrupting what you were trying to say to me as I left. I’ve said the same thing to others who were hurt by Christians when I was one and know how strongly you were moved to do that. It was thoughtful but not necessary. I don’t lump all Christians together. There are “red-letter” Christians who follow Jesus, whom I respect, and there are people who take your god’s name in vain for their own worldly purposes. I know the difference and don’t equate people who claim to be Christians with people who walk the path laid out by Jesus’s actual words. I’m sorry you feel like it’s necessary to apologize on their behalf because that is not your sin. And I know for certain that they see nothing wrong with their behavior and don’t think they have anything to apologize for. After all, I never apologized for how rude my brother was to you when you asked for donations for your mission trip. I wouldn’t have been disrespectful if you’d contacted me because all atheists are different. All people are different.
I’m not religious for many reasons. None of them is “Christians were mean to me.” It actually started with a cover-to-cover Bible study class in which I was totally invested as a born-again believer. By the book of Joshua I was transformed into an anti-theist, still believing in god but holding him responsible for all evil, as he says he is in Isaiah 45:7. I understood that much of human suffering is at the hands of men but found it hard to tolerate a deity that inflicted things like schizophrenia on any creation he supposedly loved. No sin deserves that punishment and no lesson can be learned because of the nature of the disorder. When you don’t even know what’s real, what does faith count for? It doesn’t help at all; it makes it worse because you don’t why you’re being punished. That’s what I was told by church officials when I came to them about the terrifying thoughts in my head when I was a teenager: not that I should see a doctor but that the voices were angels and demons warring for my soul and I needed to repent and pray and beg forgiveness. God would heal and pardon me for the inexcusable sin of ingratitude that tortured me.
I did repent and pray and beg. I did spend every extra minute at church. I ministered to people at school and started a Bible study and prayer group there. The youth band I was in traveled the southeast doing mission concerts at secular venues. I prostrated myself at retreats and conference altar calls, desperate for the lord’s mercy. I believed with every fiber of my being yet I was still tormented. I began making “burnt offerings” of my own flesh in penance to prove that I was willing to endure pain as Jesus did. My parents grounded me when they found out about this self-harm. The only place I was allowed to go was church, and that’s when I joined the Bible study.
Reading the Bible was horrifying. Mine was a thick study Bible with lots of annotations and footnotes. It was confusing because I’d always followed the red-letter words of Jesus, but in the same book was murder, rape, forced abortion, child sex slavery, infanticide, genocide (all the -cides including Jehovah’s own suicide on the cross), hatred of every stripe, a notable trajectory of greed, and parts that are downright pornographic. Many people argue that Jesus transformed everything but it’s the same god. And I decided that I did not want to worship that god. That god was evil. Jesus was a good man and got a lot of things right but his god was a villain. And that was the same god that was shredding my soul with voices and visions about suicide every second of every day.
It took me a long time to stop hating Yahweh. He was not Abba to me— He was The Great Deserter. Breaker of Promises. The Cruel Almighty and I hated him just as much as he apparently hated me. I studied other religions and read a lot of philosophy, but in the end, I did not find solace until I started taking medication. It turned out that I wasn’t “spiritually deformed;” I was simply mentally ill. And that can be treated. I let go of my anger and decided it was better not to believe in god than to be full of rage every time I came across a broken person for which he was responsible. This led to an interest in science and the human brain, which revealed that it wasn’t necessary to invent a god to understand the universe as far as we’re able. Any god worth its salt would surely not hide from the curiosity of its beloved creation.
I was able to construct my own meaning by devoting my life to helping people, being kind, and creating art. Not because a book told me to but because it feels good to protect my species. Most people assume I’m a Christian because the way I live happens to coincide with many of the teachings of Jesus, though I don’t agree with everything he said. I always found the fig tree and Luke 14:26 disturbing, not to mention the fact that I only have two cheeks to turn and think 77 second chances is 76 too many. But when it comes to caring for the least of us, I do that with all my heart. That’s my species. Those are my relatives.
I’d like to think that, if there is a god (nothing is impossible) who is truly just and righteous, he would judge me justly and righteously based on my behavior. If I die and stand before a throne, I’m content to be judged on the merits and consequences of my own actions, rather than accepting the blood of a scapegoat. I’d like to think that god would understand how difficult it is just to stay alive with the condition he gave me, and be compassionate if he is capable of such a thing as mercy. I don’t believe the god of Jesus has any interest in forgiveness or mercy. I believe I am the pigs into which he drove the demons of madness off the cliff.
I’m going to tell you this but I ask you to keep it a secret. The archaic Greek Bible verse tattooed over the suicide scars on my left arm is slightly altered from the original Matthew 27:46 / Mark 15:34. It says, “Dear God, sweet God, why hast Thou forsaken me?” The right arm is the day I tried to kill myself. I was an atheist when I got them. In fact, I was in Scotland on a trip with [Christian university known for its despicable students] when they were inked.
The idea of god is still interesting to me but I simply cannot conceive of a loving deity when I personally witnessed two men who believed they were the second coming of Christ have a discussion with each other the second time I was hospitalized in the psych ward. It’s dangerous for me to believe in your god. I’d like to believe that the dear, sweet god I loved when I was clinically insane would understand that.
I understand. I understand your position. I understand what it’s like to fear for someone’s soul; it’s agonizing- especially if that person is good. I understand why Grandma sent me a tract on basic Christianity in the mail. Because she loved me. I understand why Aunt [Close Relative] has reached out to me about religion. Because she loves me. I understand why you felt moved to apologize to me on behalf of Pharisees. Because, even though you don’t know me very well, you are filled with love. Your think your love comes from Jesus. My love comes from the temporoparietal region of my brain— and is just as strong as what I felt as a believer. I’m sorry you feel distress over something I don’t think exists.
And if I’m wrong, I guess I burn in Hell. My mind is its own Hell and it’s my greatest hope that there’s no such thing as a soul and my conscious being will completely disappear into nothingness when I die. I also don’t understand why that thought makes people sad; it makes me feel connected to every other living thing on the planet. We all belong to the category of “things that die.” I think that’s beautiful. I’m not only happier as a non-believer, I’m healthier. It’s not because I get to run around sinning— I’m devoted to the human race and in awe of the beauty of nature. And if god values his creation, then he will value me.
You don’t have to apologize for wolves in sheep’s clothing to me. It’s probably good for others because the majority of people are mean and most of them happen to claim the title of Christian, but not in my case. I share most of your principles, just not your faith that the voices that answer in prayer are real. Because I know for a fact that mine are not. So I ask you, as a former Christian, to seek a slightly different understanding of James 2:18-26. I know they’re not Jesus’s words but think about the fact that, though he says the body without spirit (translated in my study Bible as ‘breath’) is dead, he never condemns works without faith. Only faith without works.
I’m not trying to work my way into Heaven. I think I’ll die and disappear and be forgotten, though the Adams family may still tell stories of the crazy relative who refused to change her last name when she got married because she valued her ancestors so much. I don’t think I deserve Heaven or Hell. Maybe this god will have mercy on me and let me disappear. That would be the greatest kindness of all. It never goes away. Bipolar disorder. It never gets better. You can only manage the ever-changing symptoms. But just know that I respect true Christians because I respect anyone who values humanity. Jesus certainly did, and I respect him. Your mother is a shining example of love. I simply happen to believe that you would be just as loving without god. You’re innately good. I celebrate that.
You don’t need to respond but I do ask that you are judicious about who you discuss this letter with. I know Adamses are born secret-keepers because I’ve had that Bible verse tattooed on my arm for 17 years and you’re the 6th person I’ve ever told. I trust that you’ll choose your conversations with care given this new context. Members of the church have betrayed my confidence before and I’d rather not have the details of my madness spread around the family like gossip. It’s embarrassing to be the crazy one. Pray about it but think about it too.
Love,
Amelia
James 2:18-26
But someone will say, “You have faith and I have works. Show me your faith without your works and I will show you my faith by my works. You believe that there is one god. You do well." Even the demons believe— and tremble! But do you want to know, O foolish man, that faith without works is dead? Was not Abraham our father justified by works when he offered Isaac his son on the altar? Do you see that faith was working together with his works, and by works faith was made perfect? And the Scripture was fulfilled which says, “Abraham believed God and it was accounted to him for righteousness.” And he was called the friend of God. You see then that a man is justified by works, and not by faith only. Likewise, was not Rahab the harlot also justified by works when she received the messengers and sent them out another way? For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also.
I am very disappointed you have had to go through all these terrible experiences. It’s heartbreaking. But you write with the courage of your convictions. In my small counseling practice I sometimes deal with individuals having crises in faith who are just not understood by their families and are stigmatized and often treated badly. Please continue to forge the path you truly believe in, and I hope you will prosper.
Best
Fred
I’m glad you seem to be coming to terms with a lot of your past and making peace within yourself.
It’s interesting, I felt similarly betrayed by intellectualism, education and medicine, and ironically faith is what helped me heal, although faith very different from the church. Just faith that that there is something magical about life and that my experience is more valuable in teaching me about that magic than any book.
I always found this take on mental illness interesting (the original article has been taken down and I don’t know why but here is a description):
https://www.madinamerica.com/2019/06/shamanic-view-mental-illness-2/
I think there are many places in between the current science and this kind of view. I could talk about it more sometime if you are interested. I hope the article doesn’t rub you the wrong way, if so please ignore it!