Organized Religion as a Tool of Control

Developing your own relationship with God is tricky when you’ve been indoctrinated. I was raised Catholic, and I grew up attending mass every week in a nice dress. I was initiated into the rituals, and taught the liturgy of the word. For a time I believed that I needed my religion. I believed that my religion was my ticket into heaven.

My church wasn’t bad, in fact, they did a lot of good. They offered community events, after-mass breakfasts, and free groceries for anyone who needed them every Tuesday afternoon.

I’m not sure what prompted me to begin asking questions. When I was only eleven I started asking why I wasn’t allowed to wear pants to church. I was told that we dress well for church out of tradition and respect. I asked my dad if God would love me any less if I came in casual clothes. He didn’t say “no,” so I never had to dress up for church again after that.

It didn’t take long for my questioning to extend to why I had to go to church each week in the first place. I stopped attending regularly then, but my faith hadn’t yet changed. Still, I was getting older, and exploring on my own. I discovered Wicca in the back rows of my local library. That was the beginning of a long period of eclectic spiritual seeking for me.

“The Root of All Evil is the Abuse of Power”

Patricia Cornwell

In the following years, the child sex abuses within the Catholic church were coming to light, and the related coverups from within the church were also exposed. At the time, the church pretty much claimed #NotAllCatholics, and made general statements condemning those involved, but I felt betrayed on behalf of the victims.

There is certainly the potential for evil within any institution of power, but this felt unforgivable to me. I have PTSD related to child abuse, and the entire scandal was incredibly triggering and upsetting to me.

In combination with this, I’m bi, and in my religion I was being told that my nature, and the nature of plenty of my close family and friends, was a sin. This combined with other experiences is the reason why a LOT of people don’t know that about me to this day. It’s not a secret, I was just programmed to keep it to myself.

In 2004, Massachusetts became the first state to legally recognize same-sex marriage, and this battle for equality and human rights stirred a national conversation about the supposed “morality” of gay people. The arguments for “what God intended” were stupid and offensive to me. This rhetoric from many fundamentalists made me feel even more distant from the religion I was raised in.

Is Faith a Weakness? Is Science the Only Rational and Respectable Way to View The World?

As I ventured into young adulthood, I felt empowered to explore my spiritual identity even further. I was reading Chris Hitchins and allowing my inner contrarian to flourish. I wanted to be different, and for me at that time, rejecting God was different in the most abrasive and exciting way.

Unconsciously (or maybe a little bit consciously) I was doing what many 18 year olds do when they’re experimenting with being an adult: I was sticking it to my elders.

At that time, the atheist forums I was found online were very prejudiced, treating believers and spiritual seekers as cowards and imbeciles, looking for some comfort from reality.

I tried atheism on not just to be different, but also because I wanted to be perceived as rational and smart. I also agreed with the sentiment that you didn’t need religion or even a belief in God to have morals, or to be a good person.

Atheism didn’t last long for me, though. Probably because I often found the community to be toxic and condescending. It also conflicted with the truth in my own heart. It disagreed with the part of me that knows God. Whether this was THE truth, or just MY truth is irrelevant.

A staunch atheist might say that I was too far gone, having been indoctrinated from birth, but the thing is: religious dogma never resonated for me quite like the complex and subtle simplicity of the divine always did.

I don’t necessarily disagree with the idea that maybe “religion poisons everything,” but I do hold some contempt for the common atheist notion that spirituality is a crutch, and that it is somehow indicative of weakness.

First of all, there’s nothing wrong with using a crutch. Some people really need them, and that doesn’t make them weak. I can tell you as a person who was temporarily unable to walk without a crutch: in a world where you’re expected to stand, you learn to appreciate anything that helps you to get in balance.

There is No Such Thing as a “One Size Fits All” Spirituality

After dipping my toe into atheism, I decided to begin my search for a new religion. I was determined to find one that fit. I looked everywhere just to make sure I didn’t miss something that was “for me.”

I ultimately came away feeling like there was a disconnect between Gods and religion. I felt like the latter was oft-used to mislead, control, and divide people.

“All religions are the same. They all lead to God. God is everybody. See God in everyone. It is deception to teach by individual differences. The best form in which to worship God is every form. Everywhere I look I see only God, and that’s why I’m always honoring everything.”

Neem Karoli Baba

I’ve come to believe that many religions convolute the same truth of oneness and interconnectedness.

That’s Me in the Corner, That’s Me in the Spotlight

I still feel connected to the religion of my childhood, but I’m no longer Catholic. My own spirituality has changed into something that is my own thing. For me, it’s about connecting to the many aspects of the creator.

Seeking a connection to the creator on my own terms has made my faith stronger than it could have been if I’d followed someone else’s path. I lost my religion, but doing so allowed me to find my own approach to spirituality, and a more meaningful and powerful connection to God.