The Community I Miss, The Beliefs I Don't
How I Learned to Stop Worrying About Eternity and Start Living
I grew up in a Christian home and was deeply involved in my faith for years—I was president of our college's InterVarsity Christian Fellowship chapter, spent a summer in Japan as a short-term missionary between my freshman and sophomore years, took 14 months off after my sophomore year for missions work in Mexico and Central America, and served as a small group leader in my church until my early 40s. But somewhere along the way, I realized that while I genuinely loved being part of a caring community with endless opportunities to build friendships, I had never really bought into the belief system itself. It wasn't a dramatic moment of revelation, but rather a gradual understanding that some part of me never truly believed. My faith wasn't really in God, but rather in the idea that somehow my parents and pastors knew better. I went through the motions because that's what was expected, but the theology never really clicked or made sense to me, no matter how many commentaries I read.
My biggest breakthrough came within the last two years when I realized I really don't care where I end up after I die—that's not my problem and not my decision. I'm not going to waste precious time trying to figure out convoluted theology when sharper minds than mine have tried and ended up at vastly different points. Just look at the thousands of variations of Christian doctrine, with every denomination convinced they have the version closest to the truth. The irony is that when I was a Christian with eternal life supposedly guaranteed, I was much more concerned about dying because there was always that nagging doubt that somehow I wouldn't make it. Now I'm totally free from worrying about it, and the thought of dying someday doesn't bother me like it used to. I still pray daily—the same simple prayer every day—because I like the idea of asking whatever is out there to give me the wherewithal to live my best life. I figure it can't hurt, and it seems to be working.
What I miss most about my Christian days is the community, the friendships, and the activities. I miss our weekly small group meetings, where we could share what was going on in our lives, and I miss having a group of friends always willing to help out with moving. What I don't miss is the theology, the pressure to evangelize, or constantly comparing my life to that of a "perfect Christian" and always falling short. I'm relieved that I no longer feel an overwhelming obligation to sell my faith to others—I was never comfortable with evangelism anyway. Now I'm free to accept people for who they are without judging their beliefs or actions. I have a live-and-let-live attitude where I judge people based on how they treat me and others, not on their beliefs or positions. I don't regret the time I spent with my Christian friends or the memories we created, but I'm grateful to be free from any particular worldview and to live each day the way I feel, with the freedom to change my mind. I'll never go back to that way of thinking, nor any other rigid philosophy, religion, or ideology.