Born and bred in a Christian home. Raised in a Christian church. There are fifty-two Sundays per year (approximately). That means that I attended somewhere around 832 Sunday Schools sessions by time I turned 16 years old. That doesn’t count Awanas, Wednesday night bible studies, Friday night sizzlin’ summer studies, Sunday night worship, Tuesday evening devotions, etc. I bet it’d be safe to say I’ve spent a good portion of my life at the Church.

Understanding. I have it. Throughout my high school career, if you want to call it that, my friends came to me for biblical advice. It wasn’t that I was wiser than them. It wasn’t that I was somehow more important than them. I just simply read the bible more. I understood it, well at least more so than most my age. I knew it extremely well. I had hidden ‘God’s word in my heart, so that I would not sin against him,’ you could say.

Even with all of the knowledge and understanding I doubted. I second guessed. I often ventured into the lukewarm. Going from hardcore Christian, to lukewarm Christian, back to hardcore. It was a cycle. Back and forth. Back and forth. Years were spent. Unable to decide. Like a child faced with the option of candy bars or ice cream.

As a hardcore Christian I felt like something was askew. Like a picture on a wall that won’t stay parallel to the ceiling. I felt like it wasn’t real, but whenever I strayed away I felt guilty. I was not joyful either way. I had to make a choice. Twenty years had passed and the past six had been this way. Like a baseball in a game of catch. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Each time the space between us getting further and further. I didn’t want to be in the middle. I wanted to be black or I wanted to be white. A decision had to be made.

For a period of time that I didn’t care to mark, I’d imagine a month or two, I asked all the questions I could think of.

“Why do I believe in God?”

    Was I raised that to believe?
    Am I classically conditioned?
    Do I have it made up in my mind that He is real?
    Do I really believe the Bible is true?
Knowing all I knew about the Bible I couldn’t give myself a real reason for my belief for my foundation of my life for the past twenty years. With all the camps I have been to, all the leadership training, all the evangelical messages I’d been given… all for naught. I couldn’t answer one of the most basic questions for the Christian faith. What if a stranger asked me? What if a friend asked me? If I didn’t have a real answer for myself how could I have one for someone else?

I continued to ask myself these questions. Searching for the answer. I didn’t want the guilt. I didn’t want the fake feeling. I wanted to live my life.

I don’t remember all of the exact details, to be honest. The conclusion I came up with is that I don’t actually believe. It took a lot of thinking and questioning, but I decided that I do not believe in all the Bible has to say.

As more time passes by the more it seems like this choice should have been easier, but what it really came down to is that I don’t feel I really believed. I think I stopped believing sometime around high school. I don’t know why for sure, but I think I continued with “believing” for a few reasons.

  • It was challenging.
  • It was a way for me to be a little more unique and go against the grain.
  • I was familiar with it already, it was within my comfort zone.
  • I felt that I was classically conditioned rather than believing by free will.
  • I enjoyed having the answers, I enjoyed studying the bible. Not because it was “the bible” but because I have always had a thirst for knowledge.
In light of the above, I realized that a lot of the reasons for my belief were selfish. I was a hypocrite and was blind to it. This is where it became easy for me to toss the Christian title. I decided that I was no long Christian. I have lived my life since that day as such. I do not believe I have felt guilty of it once. I do not have any regrets (as I never have for as long as I can remember).

I honestly didn’t think it would be quite as easy as it was. The fear of my peers was pretty overwhelming sometimes. So many of my friends were friends from church. Friends I had gone to bible studies with, prayed with, shared Christian bonds with. I feared rejection and judgment. However, most of my friends haven’t passed judgments upon me. They have accepted me and my choice in life. I wouldn’t say they support it, but they haven’t forsaken me or spit on me.

In the end, I’m not all that different. Yes, I’ve made changes in my life styles, but I’m still the same person. I just don’t do everything according to the bible. I feel like I’m more honest than I was. I feel like I’m living the truth now. To those of you that are curious, yes, I would say that I am happier and a bit more joyful than I was.

For as long as I can remember I have lived my life without regret. Not looking back has made life easier. It’s actually a biblical philosophy. The bible often speaks about worry and dwelling. I made it a point to do those as little as possible. I do not regret living the way I have for so long. It has made me the man I am today. I do not write this to say you’re wrong for believing, I write this to say it is not right for me.