“I am pretty much scarred by religion in its most despicable form; living the aftermath; struggling and yet glad that I went through it because it still made me the person I am today. The relentless indoctrination, the lies … the guilt … the isolation from other faiths … the punishment of independent thinking … and feeling of complete powerlessness that comes along with it. I think I should stop here, but you get the idea.”
– Atheist friend, Michel Mercier
Here’s another brief interaction with an online City View reader in Montreal who has been kind enough to share openly with me regarding his experience in organized religion. As is evident from his words above, he was completely turned off by what he encountered in the religious community by way of indoctrination, lies, guilt, isolation and the punishment of independent thinking.
His points, of course, are well taken since I too have participated in far too many religious initiatives wherein leaving one’s brains at the door was apparently an unspoken requirement for meaningful participation. From the Christian perspective, what is sad about such realities is that they in no way square with how Jesus lived or with what he taught. Apparently, one of the reasons Jesus was popular with the common people of his day was because he reminded them so little of the dogma, pomp and ceremony they associated with the institutionalized religion of their day. Further, he welcomed the skeptical, the inquisitive, the doubters and the immoral. He also suggested that loving God with one’s intellect was one of the greatest obligations mankind has toward God.
It’s curious and troubling then how the behemoth now known as Christianity has become so dogma oriented – to the point where, as Michel experienced, his introduction to organized religion required him, first and foremost, to unreservedly embrace dogma.
I’ll pick up there next week.
Tim Callaway is the pastor of Faith Community Baptist Church in Airdrie (948-6727). Thanks to David Hayward (www.nakedpastor.com) for use of his work.
