Tag Archives: journal prompt

Forget the mountain, I’m headed for the beach: Exploring a Journal Prompt from Chapter 14 of “Changing Paths”

Happy Friday, dear readers! This Friday marks my exploration of the final chapter in Changing Paths by Yvonne Aburrow. I thought I’d offer a few musings on the following journal prompt from the book:

Do you believe that all religions are paths up the same mountain, or up entirely different mountains?

As I think about this question, I suppose that all religions might have the same goal in an extremely broad sense, the sense that religions attempt to connect us with the numinous. But the nature of what the numinous actually is and the reasons to connect to it can be vastly different.

In certain forms of Christianity, such as evangelical Christianity as practiced among white people,1 the goal seems to be to cozy up to the Christian god in order to secure one’s place in a pleasant, satisfying afterlife. In extreme cases, this kind of theological framework views this life and this earth as completely unimportant, enabling some such Christians to not care about protecting the environment or making the world a better, more just place.2

Compare this to Judaism, where the message of the religion is mainly about building community and sticking together in this life as well as making this world a better place for everyone. Or consider the many Pagans who view this earth as sacred — or at least close to it — and life something to be celebrated in a religious context.

I think things get even more varied and nuanced when you consider how different religions perceive and talk about the numinous or even the Divine. Religions that are authoritarian and expect unquestioning obedience to their deities are quite different from religions that view deities as beings one can negotiate and argue with and possibly even enter into a mutually beneficial relationship to achieve common goals together. When you add in religions that might seek out connection with the numinous but not specific deities or similar entities, I think the possibilities become even more numerous and varied.

The reality is that such different conceptualizations of the Divine and/or the numinous further impacts the goals of a given religion. As my title for this post suggests, I’m not even sure we’re all traveling up the same mountain. Some of us may be headed toward and traversing different geological features entirely.

Footnotes

  1. I should note that many non-white people take a similar view, especially those who attend churches that are predominantly led by white people. However, I think it’s important to note that there are non-white evangelical churches — most notably Black churches — that see things very differently. They tend to be deeply influenced by liberation theology (mainly because they developed it). This can best be seen by studying how the Black church was a key driver in the Civil Rights movement and continues to advocate for racial justice, as compared to white evangelicals who have tended to downplay racial justice issues, even suggesting it’s something that will only be resolved “when Christ returns and establishes his kingdom.” ↩︎
  2. Again, I’m painting with a broad brush pointing out trends. There are Christians who take a completely different approach to their theology and the implications of what it means to live out a Christian life. I’d say that different Christians are even “traveling up different mountains” from one another. So if you’re a Christian and you’re getting ready to tell me I’m not describing what you believe as a Christian, relax. I’m not talking about you. It’s the whole reason I’ve been trying to use precise language here. ↩︎

Inclusive Heathenry: Exploring a journal prompt from chapter 13 of “Changing Paths”

Happy Friday, dear readers!. I hope you’ve all had a great week. And for my readers who, like me, are in the United States, I hope you had a pleasant and safe Fourth of July! Does everyone still have all their fingers?

For today’s post, I’d like to explore the following journal prompt from chapter twelve of Changing Paths by Yvonne Aburrow:

Do you feel that everything about you is accepted and welcomed by your spiritual community?

I should note — as I briefly mentioned in an earlier post in this series — that I don’t have much interaction with our local community at this time. At one point, I was part of a local non-initiatory Wiccan coven, which did fully accept me. Of course, I helped found that coven, so I had a strong say in the ideals, values, and inclusiveness of that coven. And there was a general idea of “everyone is welcome’ in the greater community. But I can’t say that we as a broader community made an intentional effort to welcome and accommodate people from diverse background and life experiences.

What I want to focus on i this post, however, is the question of inclusiveness in the greater (world-wide) Heathen and Norse Pagan community. I think most people are aware that there are large movements of white supremacists who use Norse/Germanic mythology and a twisted version of those cultures’ history to support their racist views. There are also many in those communities that are transphobic and homophobic, many of whom raise the specter of ergi1 in the lore to justify their restrictive views on gender and sexuality.

Fortunately, many Heathens and Norse Pagans have worked hard to condemn and counteract bigotry within their ranks. One of the most famous examples of this is the creation of the Declaration of Deeds, which many organizations and kindreds have signed.

The reality is that whether my community makes me feel fully accepted depends entirely on which segments of the greater Heathen/Norse Pagan community you’re talking about. There are groups that I avoid. There are groups I would gladly join in a blot or sumbel and feel perfectly welcome and safe to do so.

As I wrap up this post, I would also like to note that this series is coming to a close soon. I only have one more chapter to blog about, which I will do next Friday. After that, I will have to figure out a new Friday blog series to start on July 19. If any of my readers would like to recommend another book you’d like me to blog my way through, an alternative source of journal prompts I might work through, or any other ideas, I’d love to hear about them. Drop me a comment with your ideas.

Footnotes

  1. The link I have provided is to an article by inclusive Heathen and author Diana L. Paxson that explains ergi and provides the historical context that explains why she does not believe the concept is a condemnation of homosexuality. ↩︎

Deities in my spiritual practice: Exploring a journal prompt from chapter 12 of “Changing Paths”

Good morning, readers! It’s Friday and it’s time to explore the next chapter of Changing Paths by Yvonne Aburrow. This blog series is up to chapter twelve, which is titled “Changing Paths Within the Pagan Sphere.” I have chosen to focus on the following prompt for this post:

Does your practice focus on self-development, creating community connections, or devotion to gods and spirits? Does that sit comfortably with the tradition you currently practice?

In many ways, I think my practice tends to incorporate all of these things without over-emphasizing any of them. I view them as all related. For me, creating community and helping to create a better and more just world is in part accomplished through self improvement, and my relationship with my deities helps drive those processes.

I will note that while I consider my relationship with my gods to be devotional to some degree, I do not mean that in a way that I think many people think of when they think of being devoted to a deity. In a previous post, I offered a few comments on the “human/deity divide,” and my views on that matter impact the nature of my relationship — even the devotional aspect — with my deities. For me, being devoted to Freyja — and the other Norse deities to a lesser degree — is more like being devoted to my husband or a good friend. There is much affection there and I revere my deities’ wisdom and guidance, but I also still have my independent spirit. And quite frankly, I don’t think my deities would have it any way.

But my relationship with Freyja and the other deities goes beyond devotion as well, just as my relationships with my husband and my friends do. We are also partners in a great effort — that effort to make the world a better and more just place. So we have discussions. We occasionally even have arguments. I’ve even been known to swear at my deities before. And again, they respect me for it. In the end, we are bound together in our desire to build community, a better world, and a better place.

As for whether my current tradition supports this, I would say so. After all,e I’m building my own tradition in many ways. But the lore I’m drawing inspiration from aligns with these ideas, I think. One of the things I noticed about the Norse myths and sagas pretty quickly is that there seems to be this constant balance between personal freedom and communal obligation. And I see that dance of building community, working with the deities (and other spirits), and improving myself reflected in that balance.

My virtues and ethics: Exploring a journal prompt from Chapter 11 of “Changing Paths”

Hello dear readers! It’s been a busy and hectic week for me. I’ve been posting #ChangingPathsChallenge2024 posts a little (or a lot late) for the past few days as a result. What’s more, I didn’t find time to write a post for chapter eleven of Yvonne Aburrow’s book, Changing Paths until today. But I’d rather not just skip putting up a post this week, so I figure a day or so late is the better option. So here’s the journal prompt I’ve chosen from chapter eleven:

Make a list of your personal values and virtues that you hold sacred.

I’ll note that I covered this to some degree earlier this month in a blog challenge post. However, while I talked about the beliefs that tend to inform my ethics and offered a few list of virtues that influenced me, I did not write down my own list. As such, I’d like to take this opportunity to do exactly that.

The values I tend to think about and hold most dear, in no particular order:

  • Compassion
  • Integrity
  • Freedom
  • Creativity
  • Industriousness
  • Joy
  • Hospitality
  • Justice (though more through restorative than punitive means)
  • Fidelity

I hope it’s obvious that this is not an exhaustive list. Merely these are the nine (convenient that I came up with exactly nine off the top of my head) that I’d say I most consider when making moral decisions.

Why I like being a Pagan: Exploring a journal prompt from Chapter 8 of “Changing Paths”

Happy Friday readers! In this blog post, I continue working my way through Changing Paths by Yvonne Aburrow. Today’s prompt is from chapter eight, which is titled “Joining a Pagan Tradition.”1 I’ve chosen the following prompt as a guide and inspiration for this post:

What aspect of Paganism are you drawn to? Is it magic and witchcraft? Nature, the Earth, or the land? Ancestors? Trees, stars, and stones? A specific pantheon of deities or a specific ancient culture?

This feels like another one of those prompts where I’ve spent this entire blog exploring the underlying question, so it’ll be somewhat challenge to distill several years of thoughts into a single cohesive post.2

I think the first thing that comes to mind is the memory of how the idea magic drew me to witchcraft (and Paganism in general) almost immediately back in 1998. It wasn’t necessarily even the thought of self-empowerment that comes with the ability to work magic, though that definitely was a factor. There was some part of me that almost craved a sense of wonder and magic — something existing just beyond the humdrum of everyday life — all my life. I remember being a kid and imagining that I could feel the flow of magical energy all around me. So imagine my delight when I read Cunningham’s book3 and realized that some people thought that was actually real. To make a pun of it, I was enchanted.

Of course, as I matured as a witch, I also began to appreciate what I might call the magical of the mundane. I came to appreciate that the separation between a magical life and a mundane one was actually illusory, which is an idea that appealed to me ever since.

I gravitated toward the Norse deities and Freyja over a period of a few years after exploring a few options. For example, i spent about a year studying Irish mythology and trying to connect with the Tuatha De Danann. This was mainly because I found a young gentleman at my local witch shop who was also studying and was a member of Ar nDriacht Fein, a Druid group4 founded by Isaac Bonewitts.

However, my friend and I discussed some of our other interests, and for me, that included the runes, which I had begun studying (at the suggestion of my first boyfriend, no less) even before I decided to leave Christianity.5 My friend noted that I practically lit up when I started talking about the runes and the lore that was often woven into interpreting and understanding them. He commented that while I clearly enjoyed learning about Irish mythology, I did not have that same passion for it. So he strongly encouraged me to seek to build a relationship with the Aesir and Vanir instead. And that’s how I eventually became a Freyjasman.6

As time went by, the ancestors became increasingly important to me. This was especially true as I learned more about seidr and other shamanistic7 aspects of Norse magic. Of course, my first introduction to the idea of honoring the ancestors likely came from my time with ADF, which includes calling and honoring the ancestors in their ritual structure. But it became more important as I began a more practical and intimate practice of working with the ancestors on a more one-on-one level.

As for honoring nature, I have very mixed feelings about the relationship between Paganism and nature, at least how it often seems to be viewed in the greater Pagan community. As someone who grew up in rural Pennsylvania, went hunting a couple times (I quickly realized I had neither the patience nor the overall temperament for it), and grew up camping, I had a great deal of appreciation for nature. I still think much of nature and spending time in nature is wondrous and important. I also think that preserving nature is crucial.

And yet, as an old rural boy, I sometimes feel that many Pagans romanticize and even idolize “nature” in a way that doesn’t resonate with my experiences with nature. I often find myself wondering if any of them have actually taken a hike in the woods or spent much time in the parts of nature not meticulously maintained by people.

Also, I feel like some of my Pagans tend to forget that humans are a part of nature, and that includes our tendency to build structures, societies, and the amenities of civilization. The “nature vs. human civilization” divide sometimes seems overblown to me at times.8

I think for me, this is a topic where my perception of Midgard vs. Utgard is instructive for me.9 On one level, I tend to view them as symbolic of the (relatively) secure places established by human civilization and the untamed places in the world that exist beyond those boundaries. I also think that we as humans need both of these places and that human survival requires us to cross into those untamed places at times. I also think that once you start thinking about these ideas, the boundary between Midgard and Utgard tend to get much fuzzier than we first thought.

That was probably quite the tangent though. At any rate, I hope you’ve enjoyed this latest insight into the things that have drawn me most and meant he most to me in Paganism as I practice it. I’d love to hear your own thoughts in the comments!

Footnotes

  1. I will note that this is the first chapter in part two of the book, where Aburrow shifts focus to exploring and following Pagan spiritualities. For those who are not interested in becoming a Pagan, I acknowledge that the rest of the posts in this series and (and the rest of Aburrow’s book) may not be as directly applicable or even interesting as part one. As such, I understand if you choose to skip the rest of this series, though I hope you’ll at least consider sticking around. After all, you may find ways to apply my own thoughts and Aburrow’s book to your own spiritual path (or lack thereof). Either way, I wish you well. ↩︎
  2. Me being me, I may abandon all pretense of cohesion fairly quickly. ↩︎
  3. Many of you undoubtedly know exactly which one I’m talking about. ↩︎
  4. I’ll note that ADF (whose new website I just noticed) is a bit different than some Druid organizations in that it does not limit itself, its members, or its groves to Celtic reconstructionism. It welcomes and encourages the exploration of any and all Indo-European cultures, their myths, and their religious traditions. However, my friend and the proto-grove he hoped to established were focused on Irish myths and culture. ↩︎
  5. This is where I make most of the Heathens reading this post groan (or worse) by confessing that my foray into the runes started with getting a copy of Ralph Blum’s “Book of Runes.” Don’t worry, though. My studies quickly expanded to sources more rooted in Norse cosmology, mythology, and lore. ↩︎
  6. Okay, Odin occasionally shows up with some lesson he wants me to learn or a change he wants me to make. But my practice and devotion is definitely focused on Freyja. ↩︎
  7. I forget where I picked it up from, but I’ve adopted the practice of describing practices that bear similarities to various shamanic practices as “shamanistic” while reserving the term “shamanic” to refer to practices that are part of a vocation in certain cultures. ↩︎
  8. In the past, I’ve asserted that the sexual (and other) energy often found at a rave in the city is as much a manifestation of nature as an idyllic site in the forest and I’m inclined to stand by that claim. ↩︎
  9. My brain is also slow-baking a retelling of the myth of Thor’s encounter with Utgard-Loki where Utgard-Loki is the protagonist, protecting the untamed places from Thor and his compatriots, whom he saw as invaders. I think this retelling would underscore the dangers of destroying the untamed places by imposing too much order on them. But I’m just a witch who thinks a certain level of chaos is needed for life to thrive in the end. ↩︎

Desiring sacred community: Exploring a journal prompt from chapter 6 of “Changing Paths”

Hello and happy Friday, dear readers! In today’s post, I want to explore a journal prompt Yvonne Aburrow offers at the end of chapter six of their book, Changing Paths. This chapter is titled “The Conversion Process.” Here’s the prompt:

What do you experience as sacred? What do you regard as important, special, emotionally significant?

I’ve given a lot of thought over the past few years on what I think it means to call sacred. Most recently, I did a video on the subject:

I then did a couple of follow-up videos: one on the sacred self and the other one about acknowledging the sacred in others. I think that these three videos together make it clear that I think everything and everyone is sacred. I also think they give a glimpse into what it means to me to treat oneself, others, and even the world in light of that understanding.

As such, I’d like to focus on where this is currently leading me personally at this time. My belief that both I and the other are sacred has me focusing more on building and nurturing relationships between the sacred self, sacred others, and the sacred world. I find myself looking more at the importance of community.1

Wen I first came to Paganism and witchcraft, I was greatly focused on myself. I was relieved to find a spiritual tradition and magical practice that focused on empowering myself and celebrating my own worth. At the time, this was necessary, given the ways my former religious upbringing had stripped me of any sense of self-worth and value.

But as I’ve matured over the past couple decades, I’ve begun shifting my focus toward the people and the world around me. As someone who is confident in my own value and worth,2 I started once more looking for ways to connect with others and even help others. I wanted to share my experiences and what wisdom I have gained from them with others. In fact, this is one of my primary motivators in maintaining this blog, as well as some of my other projects.

Right now, a lot of this effort is focused online, though I’m starting to crave local community as well. I haven’t figured out what that looks like for me these days. I’m not sure if I would be best served by re-joining the local Pagan and Witches meetup (assuming they are back to having in-person meetings in addition to the online ones), getting involved with the local metaphysical shop, or starting my own coven or kindred. That latter one has a certain appeal to me, but I have my reservations, including whether there are others in the area that would want to work magic and/or honor the gods in the way that i do.3 Plus I’m not sure I have a well-enough defined ritual or focus to really build a communal practice. That may be something I work on developing, though.

So I suppose even after all these years, my path is still evolving and progressing. I’m not sure where my desire to have, build, and nurture community will lead me. But that’s what’s on my mind right now. Mainly because that connection with sacred others is what I value and desire most right now.

Footnotes

  1. One of the things that I love about this chapter and the book in general is how central Aburrow has made the concept of community to their discussion of religion and finding a religious home. ↩︎
  2. Though I do try to maintain a modicum of humility. After all, becoming an ego-maniacal boor would be an undesirable over-correction. ↩︎
  3. I’m in a weird niche where I tend to be too Norse-focused for most Wiccans and other witches, yet too “loosey-goosey” with ritual style for most Heathens’ comfort. ↩︎

My religious deal-breakers: Exploring a journal prompt from chapter 5 of “Changing Paths.”

Hello readers and happy Friday! Time to tackle another journal prompt from Changing Paths by Yvonne Aburrow. This week, we’re looking at chapter 5, which is titled “At the Crossroads.” Unlike the previous two chapters, I easily fell in love with the thought of blogging about one of the journal prompts at the end of this chapter. And boy, is it a doozy!

Make a list of features that any religion or philosophical system that you would consider getting involved in should not have. Your list could include beliefs, values, rituals, metaphors, and practices.

Before I start pulling out my “laundry list” and discussing it, I should note that this is today’s list of my deal-breakers. I’m not sure everything would have been on my list back in 1998 when I was making my break from Christianity. After all, my only goal in 1996 was to make peace with the fact that I was gay. I didn’t plan on changing any other aspect of my faith at that time. But that’s the thing about such lists. They change and grow as we do. We need to allow them to change. Maybe we’ll add new items to the list. Maybe we’ll take some items back off it, or at least clarify what exactly it is we’re opposed to. But let’s get on with my current deal-breakers.

Homophobia and Transphobia

Homophobia would have definitely been on my list of deal-breakers back in 1998. In fact, it was the original deal-breaker that kicked off my deconstruction process. Being a gay man who had realized that denying my sexuality and denying myself fulfilling sexual experiences and relationships was unhealthy for me, I realized that I needed a religion that accepted, embraced, and celebrated my sexuality instead.

Back then however, I did not know much about tans issues. In fact, I’m not sure I had even heard of being trans. If I had, I probably thought it was some sort of “extreme gayness” rather than something different (though often related) to sexual orientation.1

But as I got to know trans people, I saw how their own struggles were often similar to my own. Furthermore, my own trials, tribulations, and harms at the hands of my religious upbringing caused me to experience empathy and compassion for trans people. As such, I want a religion that accepts, embraces, and celebrates them as much as it does me me. In fact, this leads to my next deal-breaker.

Bigotry, Exclusion, and the Establishment of Second Class Members

That same compassion for myself and trans people continued to expand outward, causing me to oppose all bigotries and the various ways a religion might exclude certain groups of people or even treat them as second class members if they were accepted into the religion at all. So I began to see ableism, racism, and sexism as deal-breakers as well.

I will note that I don’t understand these issues and how they express themselves as well as I’m familiar with homophobia, its manifestations, and its effects. I’m still learning about transphobia too, for that matter. So this is an ongoing process for me and one that I doubt I will ever truly complete.

Self-Denigration

This was another deal-breaker that I had back in 1998 and likely the second one I added. My evangelical upbringing had stripped me of any sense of self-worth with its constant messaging that I was a sinner in desperate need of grace, which I had been literally taught was “mercy that I did not deserve.” It was this messaging and the toll it took on my self-esteem that eventually made me realize that I needed a clean break from Christianity altogether. 2

I need (and fortunately found) a religion that embraced me as the wonderful person I am, full of inherent value and worth. Sure, I’m not perfect and needed to improve in many ways. But I am valuable and am worth improving due to that value. My improvement as a person has become a gift I give myself rather than something I have to do to try to appease some deity (and then grovel before that deity when I fail to meet his standard.)

Hell (or Any Other Eternal Punishment)

This is another deal-breaker that was quickly added if it was not on my list in 1998. As I made friends outside of Christian circles after coming out as gay and relying on them for emotional support, I struggled with my belief that these same people were going to be condemned to suffer for eternity simply for believing the “wrong” things. It seemed unfair and cruel, especially considering how much they were helping me keep myself together at the time.

Later, I began to think about the whole idea of hell and realized that in general, the idea of tormenting anyone (or allowing any to be tormented) forever was pure cruelty. I could not believe any deity worth respecting — let alone worshiping — would do such a thing.

This line of thinking eventually led me to thoughts that caused me to add the next two deal-breakers.

A Focus on Retributive or Punitive Justice

As I got thinking about the cruelty of hell, I also began to question what justice was altogether. I began to realize that retributive justice and punitive justice made no sense to me.3 It does nothing to restore those harmed by injustice or improve their circumstances. And even the argument of reform does not make sense if the punishment only comes at the end of the wrongdoer’s life. There’s no time for them do anything positive with their newly reformed ways.

A Focus on the Afterlife

I came to realize that there had to be more to this life than treating it as a test for getting into the preferred afterlife or gaining more converts to join you there. I began to sense that this life was what is important and what we did here matter for what the results here mattered. As such, I realized I needed (and thankfully found) a religion that not only offered insights into how to live a good and happy life here, but sought to celebrate that life for itself.

Divine Command Theory

Divine Command Theory is the moral philosophy that morality is noting more than the divine dictates of God or a group of deities. I am not a fan of this model, because it makes the entire concept of morality arbitrary. I also find it strange — and a bit of circular reasoning — that some religious people will tell you that God declares what is good and also that God is good. If God gets to declare that he is good like that, it is a meaningless statement.

I prefer to find a standard of morality that exists outside of the arbitrary dictates of an authoritarian figure. And that brings me to my next deal-breaker.

Authoritarianism

As someone who values critical thinking and independence, I am not a fan of authoritarianism. I certainly don’t want it in my religion. i want a religion where i can think for myself, grapple with the beliefs and values presented to me. I want the freedom to question and argue with the religious leaders — and even the deities themselves. And it’s even better if they celebrate me for doing so.

I like to think of my relationships with my deities as being centered on dialogue and cooperation, not subservience and unquestioning obedience.

Exclusive Claims to Truth and Totalizing Systems

Aburrow introduces the concept of totalizing systems later in the book (Chapter 7) and defines4 it as “an exclusive or sectarian system that also subsumes all other paradigms rather than accepting that other paradigns exist alongside it.” I have seen too much value in other religions — including religions that I probably would never follow personally — to just discount them as unimportant, let alone invalid. I much prefer approach that states “this is what we do/believe and others are free to believe/do as they please.” Which brings me to my next deal-breaker.

Proselytization

I have no desire to have people convince me to join their religion, nor do I wish to convince others to join mine. I strongly believe that the search for meaning and a connection with the numinous is a deeply personal one driven by an individual’s needs and context. Trying to force people to fit their personal journey into some predefined box strikes me as a sort of violence.

This is not to say I won’t share information about my religion with others. And if someone expresses a desire to follow my religion, i will gladly help them along in that process. But that is only if they come to me seeking such aid. I do not wish to go out actively seeking converts, let alone trying to convince people they need to convert.

Monotheism

I”m not sure this is a deal-breaker so much as just something I no longer believe. I don’t think I could believe it at this point. I think a polytheistic or animistic view of the numinous makes far more sense.

A “Three-O Compliant” Deity

This term is my own invention and a bit of a nod to my career as a software engineer, which is full of such jingoistic buzzwords. What I mean by it is the qualities that some monotheists attribute to their god: omnipotence, omniscience, and omnipresence.5 I actively reject the notion that any deity possesses the first two qualities and I have my doubts about the third.

Again, I’m not sure this is a true deal-breaker as it is something I just cannot believe anymore. I think the deities have their limits.6 I also believe that the deities are still growing and learning, so they can’t possibly be omniscient.

Closing Thoughts

That’s quite the list. I’m not sure it’s complete (after all, I didn’t cover sexual ethics in general), but I think it’s a great first attempt. As I noted, I reserve the right to update this list (possibly in a future blog post) in the future.

As I wrote this post, I also thought it might be interesting to explore what I want in my religion now that I’ve indicated a bunch of things I don’t want. I may have to do a future blog post on that subject.

In the meantime, I’d love to hear from my readers. Do you agree any of my deal-breakers? Do you disagree with them? Do you have other deal-breakers? Feel free to share them and your reasoning in the comments below.

Footnotes

  1. I will note that this has often been the position that anti-gay Christians — especially the conversion therapy proponents — have taken, either explicitly or implicitly. Often, their ideas about homosexuality and being trans is deeply rooted in strict gender roles and gender stereotypes. So everything that breaks from patriarchal cisheteronomativity tends to get homogonized into the same bucket. ↩︎
  2. I want to note that this statement is describing what was the best choice for me at the time. This is not a prescriptive declaration about what others should do. I fully acknowledge that others have managed to find a version of Christianity that affirms their inherent worth and value. That just isn’t my story. ↩︎
  3. This applies to more than just my theology, by the way. I’m deeply troubled by the way our criminal justice system seems to focus on punishing criminals. Sometimes, proponents of the current system will argue that they’re actually trying to reform criminals. However, research has shown that punishments are not a good method of reform. So that argument falls flat in my opinion. ↩︎
  4. I suspect this is actually a definition they got from another source, but I don’t recall what that source was or whether they cited it. ↩︎
  5. Recently, I’ve noticed some people — mostly atheists criticizing the Christian god — also mentioning omnibenevolence. It’s a term we never used when I was an evangelical Christian, but we certainly believed God was omnibenevolent. We just phrased it as “God is love.” So I have considered re-branding my term as “Four-O Compliance.” Also, for anyone wondering I have my doubts about whether any deity is truly omnibenevolent, either. I tend to think that the nature of the Divine is more complex than that. ↩︎
  6. This is where I note my controversial opinion that I don’t think any theist actually believes that their god is omnipotent. For example, start asking Christians about the problem of evil or how they justify eternal conscious torment and they’ll start saying things like their “all-powerful” god can’t be in the presence of sin. That sounds like a limitation on their god to me. ↩︎

Should I stay or should I go? Exploring a journal prompt from chapter 2 of “Changing Paths”

[Content Warning: Mentions of suicidal ideation, religion trauma,]

Hello dear readers! It’s Friday morning so that means once again exploring a journal prompt from the wonderful book, Changing Paths by non-binary witch Yvonne Aburrow. This week’s prompt comes from chapter two, which is titled “Leaving Your Religion.”1 Today’s chosen prompt reads as follows:

Imagine yourself staying in your current situation, and fully inhabiting that choice. Fully experience all the emotions involved in that choice. Now imagine yourself leaving your current situation, and fully experience what that choice will be like. What feelings arise from that choice?

For this prompt, I’m going to hop into the wayback machine and share with you how I was feeling around the time I left Christianity, which was in early November 1998. I feel it’ll make for a far more interesting and instructive read that if I tried answering this question about my current religious path.

In the autumn of 1998, I was going through a bunch of emotional turmoil. I had come out as a gay man two and a half years ago and decided to accept that I was gay and that it was okay to pursue a romantic and sexual relationship with another man. I had even entered into such a relationship, which had just ended around this time due to a variety of reasons (which mostly boiled down to it was an unhealthy relationship and I probably wasn’t really ready for a relationship at the time.)

I had left my church in late August of that same year, but I still considered myself a Christian. I was still committed to Jesus, and thought he was the only way to heaven, though I was struggling with the thought that God would send some of my friends who I had recently come to rely on for support (I’ll talk more about them in a little bit) to hell just for not believing in Jesus.

I was also dealing with the religious trauma of growing up gay in a religious environment that told me gay people were bad little sinners who made God sad and/or angry as well as the emotional results of repressing my feelings for roughly a decade.2

I was also dealing with a lot of guilt at the time, and not just about being gay.3 I grew up in a church that really pushed the whole theology about people being sinners and unable to do anything for themselves about their retched state. So I had some serious self-esteem issues over my lack of perfection. So the fact that i had just watched my first relationship explode and watched the dissolution of dear friendship at the time — both of which I was largely responsible for — left me feeling extremely guilty and worthless. I also felt a great deal of guilt over the dissolution of my relationship because I was still operating under purity culture ideals, which told me that I should only ever have sex with one person (even if it was another guy), who would then be my lifetime partner. So I had failed in a great way in my mind and considered it a great moral failing.

This led to my second crisis and I realized that my feelings were slowly leading me to self-destruction. It became obvious to me that If I remained with the religion I was brought up, i wasn’t going to survive. So for the second time in my life, I chose survival over my religious indoctrination. I started looking at other religions.

So I found a religious tradition that saw me as inherently valuable rather than retched and in need of grace. I found a religion that looked at my flaws and told me that sure, I was flawed, but I could be so much better. Not only that, this new religion provided me motivation and the sense that such self-improvement was worthwhile rather than a hopelessly Sisyphean task.

As a result, I felt valued4 and hopeful. I felt freedom. I knew that this change was the right one for me. And I’ve never regretted it, no matter how difficult the transition and subsequent journey became.

Footnotes

  1. I would note that this chapter is not about how to leave your religion, but provides insights into the kinds of questions and ideas you might want to explore when trying to decide if it’s time to leave. It’s entirely possible you could read this chapter and come to the conclusion that you want to stick it out instead. ↩︎
  2. At one point, I realized that I did not emotionally feel like I was 24, which was my biological age at the time. When I considered how old I felt, I realized that I seemed to be emotionally fourteen trying to live in the adult world. I’m not sure when exactly it happened, but I’m glad my emotional development eventually caught up with my body. I now fully feel like a guy about to turn fifty. (How I feel about being about to turn fifty is a whole other conversation.) ↩︎
  3. To be honest, being gay was the one thing I didn’t feel guilty about. My coming out experience two and a half years prior had been its own crisis that almost did not end well. As a result, I don’t think I’ve ever looked back and wondered “what if I was right the first time and my feelings toward other guys are sinful. I will note, however, that there were other issues surrounding my sexuality. For example, see my reaction to the dissolution of my first relationship, which is describe later in this post. ↩︎
  4. There’s a reason one of my favorite personal slogans is “Jesus loved me. Freyja taught me to love myself.” ↩︎