Humble Servant wrote (in 2006):
Hello friends, I have a serious question that (I assume) I can't figure out because I am not an Atheist. Let me start by asking you how sure are you that there is no God? Are you 75% sure, 80% sure, 100% sure? For those of you that are absolutely sure that there is no God why do you spend so much time and energy reading books that confirm your belief (or is it non-belief)? Do you need reinforcement or is it all about ammunition?
I responded:
I feel a certain amount of rage inside that I allowed someone else to govern me like a puppet all those years. A slave puppet doing the bidding of the puppeteer. The fog was so thick around me I did not question what I was dogmatically fed as patented, copyrighted, no holds bar Truth. My complete and absolute trust was asked. I gave it up believing those in charge of forming my world views knew the truth. And so I allowed my religion to step into my life and dictate what I would and would not do in just about every conceivable decision.
My religion dictated to me what I should eat, what I should drink, when I should sleep, what movies I should watch, books I should read, language I should use. My religion discouraged me from dating women who were not members of it. I formed unhealthy views of the world around me. Why couldn't I date non member women? Because they were "of the world" and not consecrated to the ideals held in my religion. My religion controlled my free time outside of work. It discouraged me from pursuing hobbies as I could better spend that time serving Jesus. You could have hobbies when you were dead. Today was the time to work out your salvation with fear and trembling before your god. Religion consumed me. It compelled me to be away from my wife and kids so that I could serve the needs of other people's wives and kids... which in turn led to other men serving the needs of my wife and kids. I never once questioned this odd and quirky loop. I was needed at home with a new born baby but had to leave time after time to fulfill my church duties.
My religion required me to testify to things that cannot be proven. I was encouraged to declare that I knew my church was the only true church on earth even if I did not know it. I was told that if I said it often enough, I would begin to believe it, until soon enough it would set me afire with god's glory.
Often, I heard a form of admonishment ring out in general church wide conferences:
"Testimony is found in the repetitious bearing it to others"
Religion required that I give thousands of dollars to it. It needed hundreds of hours of my time with no end ever in sight. I spent 2 years of my life set apart and dedicated as a missionary in Europe full time doing nothing else but reading scripture, praying and trying to convince others to join my religion. These are countless hours I now sometimes wish I could have back. 730 days of my life I wish were spent doing something else. My religion commanded me, bound me up with formally sworn oaths of allegiance employing secret handshakes, gestures, signals and passwords and told me that if I was good enough I would one day become a god. Religion controlled me down to the brand of underwear I wore. My allegiance to my religion convinced me that I would never wear gentile underwear again.
In short, I was a slave to Religion. Where was my freedom to think? Did I have autonomy? No. I was not free. I was only free to perpetuate my religion's ideology onto others... onto my wife... onto my kids... onto my neighbors. I lived in the freeest country in the world, yet my freedoms were stifled and repressed as I sat pressed into the mold my religion required me to fit. I was not an authentic me. I was allowed only to be the cardboard cut out that my religion needed me to be.
Try this. Imagine being a slave for your entire life. You live in a slave house and perform chores over and over. You serve a slave master who you never see but are told is a really great and fair man. You are told that the best sort of freedom is found serving him in everything that you do.. pay no attention to the shackles though. Many people around you say that they feel him by virtue of feeling good about themselves because they do what others say he wants done around the plantation. There is a hint of discontent with your surroundings until one day, you find some binoculars. You have always been told that binoculars are a poppycock invention designed to fool people into thinking they can see farther ahead than they can. You say, what the heck and pick them up and scan the horizon. You feel giddy at being able to see the slave master close up for the first time. Others said they see him far off in the distance but since binoculars and telescopes are forbidden, no one really knows for sure what he looks like.
What's this? You discover that your slave master quite possibly is not even a real person... What? In fact, the way you see it, he appears to be just some lousy sillouette propped up on the farthest corner of the plantation. That same corner that everyone is forbidden to go near. Everyone told you the slave owner was a real, mean and nasty guy that would punish you severely if you ever dared leave the plantation. How did they know that? Did anyone ever get punished by him? No? Wait a minute. Something is fishy here. You throw the binoculars down, unable to believe what you are thinking.
For 35 years you never questioned if he was real or not. It was just assumed. You just feared the slave master's ability to make your existence miserable if you misbehaved. Your parents told you he was real and they certainly feared all repurcussions associated with doubting it. Your friends also declared he was real. But one day you dared to question. You could not believe your eyes! Possibly, he wasn't real? What tha? That meant you could just ... leave... could it be true? You try to tell others close to you and they quickly hush you to silence as if the walls had ears and you were now guilty of the most heinous crime imaginable. Some people scorn you, others listen quietly... tapping a foot... you see the look of patronization cross their face. Nobody believes you. This is a crazy place! This plantation is full of crazy people! I gotta get the out of here!
Then imagine the terror and panic you feel when you consider what in the world you are going to do if you left the plantation. You had always been told that the world outside the plantation was a horrible place and that the slave master took care of us like no one else could. You are seized with fear.
Then imagine taking 7 years... 7 long years to convince yourself that the slave master really was not real. 7 years after the initial discovery you find yourself still trying to process it. How could it be? You oscillate back and forth, doubting your doubts, rediscovering your strength to believe that the slave master is a fake. You witness yourself fight and battle through the cognitive dissonance, the denial mechanism designed to imprison you and bind you fast to that brain washing you endured without even knowing it.
Some of the Self talk you endure:
The slave master is not REAL. No wait he can't be a fake... he has to be real, everyone believes he is real. Look, I am telling you, he is not real. But how could he not be real? Of course he is real. I know that I looked at the sillouette through binoculars and can confirm it is not a real person. I saw what I saw. But, didn't he move slightly from where he was yesterday? If he were just a sillouette could he do that? Hmmmmmm. BUT wait. What if the slave master is real and only wants me to think that he is not real? What if he is testing me? What if this is a test of my faith? And why does no one else in my family or friends here on the plantation think he is not real? Why me? Why am I the only one doubting it? What's wrong with me? What if he is hiding beyond the sillouette watching me... waiting... waiting to see if I am a true and faithful slave? What if I am on the verge of disqualifying myself from some fantastic reward for being faithful? Because only the most faithful slaves pass the highest tests of faith. Will I give up now? And... what if I am right and I am doing all of this ritual around here for nothing? What if I could make my own rule andlive my life as a free man? What if???
Then a stranger comes wandering in amongst us. He finds me as the only one willing to consider my slave master is a fake and tells tales of how life is on his old plantation. He says he left his plantation years ago. There's a slave master on his plantation too that everyone believes is real. They all fear him too. It was written since time began that if you do not believe the slave master is real, you will die. This stranger left long ago and has since visited many plantations with many different slave masters propped up in the same sort of back far corner. Seldom can he get anyone to believe him that it's just a sillouhette. The stranger leaves, bidding me well.
I decided it was worth the risk. I left the plantation. I quietly exited the premises. Nothing happened. No whippings, no hound dogs chasing me through the creek, no possee wildly searching after me breathing threats of doom. When I said he had no power over me, he could no longer touch me... real or not.
I gave up the "chance" to become a god. I walked away from that concept. I reject it. I reject it with my whole soul.
You asked why do I spend so much time confirming my status as a non theist? Basically, I was mentally raped and pillaged and sold off into slavery from the day I was born. The slave master is nothing but a sillohette propped up by people many years ago who banned any use of any type of discovery or method of verification.
So excuse me if I find it fascinating that some still want and need to stay on the plantation. The why's and how's of that make for interesting thinking.
