Our Stories

Many of us have proclaimed their belief system, be it Theistic, Atheistic, Evolutionist what ever, many times on these forums. But rarely have we detailed the journey we took to get there. In another thread I made the claim that I believed, for the most part, the belief system that someone followed was ‘inherited’ from the parents or guardians. That it was quite rare for people to change religions, but not so rare to turn from religion altogether.In the light of this I would be interested in hearing the stories of the people on this forum as to how they came to be in the theological headspace they currently inhabit. In other words what are your theological histories? Please bear in mind that my idea for this thread is to share our own personal stories in regard to faith and belief and not to debate or comment on the content of those stories. That would be better left for other threads.I hope that this will not be seen as an introduction thread as most of us know each other quite well but may not actually know each others theological history at all, and in relating that history it might help us understand where the other person is coming from a bit better.So to kick us off here is my story. Please bear with me. I look forward to your stories, but please remember please refrain from commenting on peoples stories in this thread as it should only be about sharing our stories with each other. Debate on any question raised are probably better raised in other threads

Thread moved here from the Proposed New Topics forum.

I've told my story before, but for you newbies you can go to my website and read it.http://asgarasworld.bravepages.com/articles/belief.htmlI would be interested in putting many different beliefs on my site, personal stories such as this from believers and non. If anyone wants to send me their story I promise I give full credit and will publish it as it is given to me (typos and warts )

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Asgara
"Embrace the pain, spank your inner moppet, whatever....but get over it"http://asgarasworld.bravepages.com
http://perditionsgate.bravepages.com

I am evidence for my title statement. As a kid, I avidly read comic books. I particularly enjoyed the hero Thor in Marvel and was interested by about age twelve that the character was pulled from the Norse myths. So, I read them in great detail for a kid that age. That got me interested in myth in general, so I branched out to Greek, the Kalevela, Egyptian, the legend of Gilgamesh, and so on.What struck me even then was the similarities. There was always a flood, there was always a dying and resurrecting god, and so forth. I, being a kid, really thought I was onto something and started compiling lists of everything I could find in various mythologies that was similar; themes, stories, etc. Then, of course, I found books like "The Golden Bough" and Joseph Campbell and learned that Comparative Mythology was a well founded field of inquiry.During that process, I saw that Christianity had all the same universal themes and concepts. One faithful day I asked myself why Christianity had any greater claim on truth then any of these others when so many parts were virtually the same. The only possible answer was that it didn't.So, I went from being a Baptist in rural Kentucky, which was fairly easy, to being an outspoken atheist in rural Kentucky, which wasn't.

Yes, much the same for me. I realized that, in all the excuses my church was making for God - He doesn't do this, He chooses not to do that - they had essentially reduced the amount of intervention we could expect from God to the level of random chance. When I realized that, and realized the degree to which I had internalized these rationalizations, I realized I might as well be an atheist.

I was born into a Southern Presbyterian environment but soon after my dad returned home from WWII, moved from Virginia to Maryland, from Presbyterian to Episcopal environment. Still Christian, still pretty low key.Life at home always included the Bible. When I and my siblings were too young to read, Mom would read the Bible to us. She never made a big deal of it, but every night she’d read a short verse or chapter to us. About once or twice a week we’d hold our own Morning or Evening Prayer service. It was simply part of life, not something big or even emphasized.One of the nice things about Morning and evening Prayer is their brevity. Here’s a link to the Morning Prayer Service and Evening Prayer. They also have parts where each of the kids could take an active part.Our church, Prince of Peace was lead by Joe Wood. He firmly believed that kids came first, all else was secondary. There were no quiet rooms where people took crying babies, instead Joe was far more likely to stop the service and come down the aisle to the crying baby. It was amazing. He’d pick up the kid and they’d immediately stop crying. He’d lean against the pew and go on with the service from down among the people. More than once when the service ended and the members filed out they’d shake hands with Joe, ignoring or jesting with him because one of the babies had spit up on his vestments.The church was also unusual because there was a two lane Duck Pin alley in the basement. Just to make it even closer to heaven for kids, there was a Gasoline Alley garage in the alley out back where two OLD guys (probably in their twenties or something) worked on hot rods and a guy who had a mini zoo in his back yard. He had monkeys and alligators, kids and a great bird cage that you could go in and the birds would fly down swooping around your head and alighting on your shoulders.Sometime about the end of Elementary school I got shipped off to an Episcopal Boarding School. It was unusual because it was my introduction to religion and morality beyond the sheltered Christian life I’d lived up until then. As a boarder we were with the faculty 24/7. In addition to daily chapel in the morning, there were twice weekly Sacred Studies and every Sunday a bus trip into Baltimore to attend Old Saint Paul’s church.Sacred Studies was wonderful. We studied the various philosophies from the early Greeks through Kafka. We studied Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, Hinduism, Taoism, Shinto, Confucius and Mencius. We studied Norse and Germanic mythology, made trips down to DC and the LOC where we heard tapes and tales recorded by the Native Americans. In History we studied the religions of Babylon and Egypt, of Greece and Rome, the history of the Papacies and the part that religion played in the wars from around 600AD right through until WWII.We read Mark Twain’s Mysterious Stranger and the Narnia Series; No Exit and Jefferson’s Bible. We read Lord of the Flies and Bullfinch’s Mythology; Language in Thought and Action and Mere Christianity. We read and read. Every free moment was either reading or in long discussions with Masters sitting around an open fire (except when we got our turn at the ping-pong table, the Mickey Mouse Club came on or had a pickup game of lacrosse or ice hockey). And we argued. We argued everything from the existence of GOD to whether blacks really were equal. We argued politics and religion, economics and history, science and evolution. And the Masters, two in particular, Mr. French and Mr. Young, challenged us constantly. They pushed us to think on our own and as soon as we KNEW something they would challenge it and make us defend our position. And heaven help the kid that changed his point of view without a fight or tried to tell them what the kid thought they wanted to hear.After thirteen or so years of basics and six years or so of somewhat advanced theological challenges we had pretty much formed a grounded series of beliefs. And they ran the gamut from theists to Christians to Agnostics to Atheists to a couple who really got into the Eastern Religions. But they all were pretty well founded beliefs, ones that had been beaten upon and tempered.The relationship with the Masters was far more pupil/mentor than you find in many schools. For example, in the Yearbook the inside front piece was a drawing of all of the students and Masters, the students as Crusaders and the Masters as the Saracens. The Reverend who led Sacred Studies and Chapel was shown as the Ancient Mariner with and albatross hung around his neck. If you look closely, you may even find me in there somewhere.

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Aslan is not a Tame Lion

Gahan Wilson was part of your class?

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holmes
"...what a fool believes he sees, no wise man has the power to reason away.."(D. Bros)

No but there is a certain resemblance in style. I'm quite sure David (the guy that drew the picture) was influenced by Wilson. Wilson was already pretty well established by the time that was drawn and pretty popular among the students.

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Aslan is not a Tame Lion

Sex, drugs, and pop culture.No, seriously.I've said before around here that I didn't really have a journey to atheism... it was just sort of where I started out, (ie, I was not born with a pre-installed God-program) and nothing has happened to change it.This is not to say, however, that I have no sense of spirituality. I personally think that incredible things happen in the human mind when it goes totally blank... it branches out in expansive ways that result in life-affirming and transformative experiences. Like a shamanistic visitation or UFO abduction, without any gods or aliens being involved.When shared with another person, the experience is enhanced by an order of magnitude.I've had a few experiences in my life where this has happened. Either at the moment of orgasm, or at the height of a trip, or when contemplating art and pop culture. Hell, one of them was set in motion by reading some panels from an issue of New Mutants. I mean honestly, New Mutants. Sure, it was Bill Sienkiewicz art, but still.There's no real story behind it to tell; the various minor experiences of my life have each shaped the one that follows. But I think in total, the spirituality that exists in me can be summed up in something I babbled out while tripping one time:"We are all shamans, and we are all gods, waiting to meet one another and change each other's lives."It's very age of aquarius, I know. I don't expect it to be profound to anyone but me, because no one but me is in my head watching it unfold.