On God

It’s taken most of my life to forge a relationship with God. There were many times that I stepped away. Looking back I can see the detours weren’t because of God – it was Christianity that steered me off course— more specifically, it was because of false Christians — people that call themselves Christians, but lack depth and understanding of the bible. I saw religion as hypocritical, judgmental, savage, and at times, downright evil. Tampered with by man and used as a tool to control and manipulate people by stoking a fear of God. Men seeking to use God’s love as a way to condemn others for simply existing in their own rightful space.

My childhood was tumultuous, to say the least. Under my birth mother’s guidance, I was introduced to some of the most destructive people I’ve ever known. Luckily, I was able to move in with my grandparents when I was around nine. My Gram was everything my mother wasn’t – she was kind, loving, and generous, and patient. She treated others with respect, and she didn’t judge. She accepted people as they were and didn’t seek to change them. In my eyes she could do no wrong. I am so thankful for her presence in my life. If it weren’t for her, I would have grown up not knowing love. I don’t know who I would be today, or if I would even be here at all, were it not for her gentle disposition and persisting care. She loved God and wanted me to love God too. It crushes me, as I’m sure it would crush her, to realize that it was one of her actions that led me towards decades of God-less existence. One hot, summer day, there was a terrible motorcycle accident on a stretch of road in front of the house where I grew up. The motorcycle lost control and a woman became pinned between the motorcycle and the sun-blasted, blistering hot, asphalt. Her blood-curdling screams reverberated all around me for what seemed like an eternity until emergency services arrived. By this age in my life, I had already experienced years of traumatic physical, emotional, and mental abuse —although I wouldn’t remember most of it until well into my adulthood. The worst of the abuse began when I was one or two, and lasted until around age 8. This early exposure to trauma made me an exceedingly sensitive person. Ever since I can remember, I’ve been able to feel the emotions of others without them saying a word. I’d cry when others cried, feeling their pain as though it were my own, and I knew to make myself scarce when the portentous fury of anger began rising in someone. The day of the motorcycle accident, I could feel the woman’s agony as her screams echoed through my head. I pleaded with my grandmother to help her — to do anything to alleviate her pain, but she said we couldn’t, we just had to wait for an ambulance to arrive. Distraught, I asked her why God would allow someone to suffer like that, and why wasn’t he doing anything to help her? He was omnipotent, right? My gram said that God has a plan, and we must never question it. Those words, in tandem with the monstrous acts of my abusers, fueled an intense disbelief. If I couldn’t question something, how could I understand it? And if I couldn’t understand it, how could I truly believe it?

In high school I started calling myself an atheist, but the term never really fit. My skepticism with religion and God led me to study religious philosophy in college. I was drawn to Nietzsche and the “God is dead’ movement, and I started referring to myself as a Christian atheist. This title felt like a better fit, but still not quite right. I enjoyed studying religion. Reading the stories and parables in the bible provided a blueprint on how to live a good, honest life, and I couldn’t ignore that.

Now, decades later, I’ve been revisiting my relationship with God. I still enjoy reading the bible, but I won't call myself a Christian. Christianity has veered so far from the teachings of Jesus that it’s become unrecognizable. It’s been corrupted by politics. It’s been warped and weaponized by men who use it as a means to manipulate and control others. Within the fold of politics, Christianity has become rife with abomination and devoid of God’s love. Our founding fathers were right in keeping church separated from state. They believed If the two were combined, they’d corrupt one another — and they were right. Merging them created a two-headed monster. A bicephalous creature that’s used to proliferate hate, distrust, and chaos. As far as I’m concerned politics can keep the hulled carcass of Christianity, but they will never claim God. God is apolitical, and believing otherwise is sacrilege.

We are all God’s creations, intentionally made to be unique, and individually representative of God’s vision. Each of us are here to test and learn from one another. We don’t have to get along and agree, but to shun another being is to shun God. The Bible reiterates more than a dozen times, that humanity is not to judge one another. There is nowhere in the Bible where God requests the assistance of a mortal human to police the actions of other humans. In fact, the Bible urges us to never do that, for God is a jealous God.

The truth is that none of us can know for sure what God wants. The partisan God of politics may be more precise than the loving God I choose to believe. I could be wrong, and I’m willing to be. It’s taken me decades of seeking, questioning, pleading, and feeling chronically alone to come to the beliefs I hold today. The biggest takeaway from my journey is that we won’t find God when we’re searching – searching will only yield more questions and make us susceptible to false prophets masquerading as God. When God wants their presence to be known, there will be no doubt in our mind as to what’s happening. There are places in the world where God’s radiance can be felt more strongly than others. Conversely, there are also people and places where a barren absence of God can be felt. I avoid the latter places, because we grow what we feed. We become what we devote our time and energy to. There’s a lot of ugly in this world, but the ugly bits were made by God too. Without those bits for contrast, the beauty would be less vibrant, less intense, less conspicuous. And nothing is permanent – beauty can easily degrade and fall to rot, likewise, with nurturing, time, and love, ugly can slough away to reveal a radiant beauty beneath. Everyone should be treated with kindness because we never know where God lies waiting to emerge. If someone tells you they know God – don’t believe them. We don’t get to know God here on earth, we can only feel a magnificence in the beauty that surrounds us, that shines within each of us. Doing right by humanity isn’t woke — it’s loving God. Stay the course and don’t be fooled by anyone trying to convince you otherwise.