"It does feel to me that most people who share on the deconversion blogs have been deeply hurt, and disillusioned by their experience in the church"Now, bear in mind that my expertise on deconversion[1] is based on two things: my own experience, and what others have said about their experience. For a sampling of what other people have said, I suggest you consult the blog of the late Dr. Ken Pulliam; the topic came up there several times, and he had enough readership to garner a variety of answers. (I mention this so you won't have to take my word for it. Check the comments in particular.)
That isn't an incorrect assessment. I would agree with Grace wholeheartedly on that. Many people have been hurt, though not all. What is overlooked, in my opinion, is that being hurt is just the start. That may be the catalyst to an individual beginning to question their faith, but it isn't the reason that they likely de-converted. They see that something is wrong with the system they've placed their trust in, and it forms a crack. The daylight starts to shine through and they begin chipping at that crack to get more light to shine through. Typically they are looking for the truth, not a way out. But once they start chipping at the crack it gets bigger and bigger until the whole wall is down.
I'd say that's true with any major life change a person has. They begin to realize something is wrong with the way they've been "doing" their life, so they start to search for the right way. Does that make any sense?
I've said already that the process is different for everyone. For some, it begins with a personal or communal slight or betrayal - a sense that their community of faith has failed them in some way. For others, it's a more direct personal crisis - a major disease, an unexpected death, a series of misfortunes. For others it begins with nothing more dramatic than a simple question or two... that don't have easy answers. But, as D'Ma notes, these things aren't the reason people leave Christianity. They're just the catalyst, the spark - or, sometimes, the last straw.
What it almost never starts with - pardon the digression - is the desire to sin freely, without being convicted by the spirit (whatever that means, but I feel safe in translating it loosely as "Atheists don't feel the same sort of guilt that believers do when they sin".) I hear this asserted fairly frequently, but in my experience when Christians really want to sin... well, they don't bother to declare disbelief, first. They just surrender to temptation, and then they either feel guilty and ask for forgiveness, or they drop straight into denial and rationalization to avoid the sense of guilt. They act pretty much like anyone else, in other words. Perhaps more importantly, as a reason not to believe in God, this makes no sense at all - if you know (or believe) that God is omnipotent and omniscient, then why would you think that pretending He doesn't exist would in any way exempt you from his judgement? I'll come back to this later - yes, there's at least one other post before we get to what I think works to make Christianity appealing to former believers - but for now let's get back to our topic.
If you're betrayed by your faith community, but you don't see that as reflecting badly on the Faith, then you simply find another, more compatible, community. You may identify yourself as an ex-Catholic, an ex-Fundamentalist, or even "faithful but not religious" - but you won't consider yourself an ex-Christian. If you go a bit farther, and decide that you believe in God but can't credit Christianity, you maybe become a deist, or maybe a pantheist, or you find some other religion that better suits your social, spiritual, and intellectual needs.
The people who filter down into actual unbelief may have started their questioning because of some particular incident (even if it's just an inability to resolve an apparent inconsistency in their beliefs), but they leave Christianity because it no longer meets their needs - either it can't answer their questions, or the answers point out new, more difficult questions. They - we - end up as unbelievers because none of the other worldviews they encounter seem to offer any better, or more consistent, answers.
It isn't a decision; it's a process... and for the vast majority of people, it's a loss. The most common metaphor I hear, the one people seem to feel is most apt, is the end of a love affair. Did you ever date that One Person? Remember the time when you were sure that it was True Love, that it would last forever because that's what True Love does? And then one day you find yourself alone, and you're wondering what happened - whether something is wrong with you, or something was wrong with them. Or maybe it wasn't true love, but how could that be - you knew, knew that it was, so how could you have been so wrong!? And then you spent all your time brooding over what went wrong, who was at fault, what you could have said to make things come out differently. You talk about it, a lot - and when you aren't moping and depressed, you're angry and bitter: how could they have done this to you?
And eventually your friends get sick of it, and tell you to move on - or maybe you just get tired of listening to yourself whine, of feeling pathetic, of being such a wreck. So you start putting your life back together, a little bit at a time - maybe you find new friends, so you won't have to to be reminded, or maybe your old friends side with your ex and don't want to spend time with you anymore. You reevaluate yourself, your beliefs, your sense of worth; you reassess what you have to offer, and what you want in return.
Almost everyone who's deconverted - at least, everyone I've heard tell about it - has at some point expressed the wish that they could still believe. Often there's some ambivalence. (I wish I was still in love with him. I wish I didn't love him so much.) Anger is almost inevitable: some of it is justified, and some of it is a shield for other emotions, like guilt or grief, that don't seem appropriate anymore.
This is, in no small part, why a lot of unbelievers continue to talk about Christianity - why they continue to define it, refine it, poke at it, see how they feel about it. They're examining the relationship, looking to see where they went wrong, and where their partner failed them, and maybe how much was just basic incompatibility. It's a natural part of the process of grieving. And in time, they move on to other things. Oh, they may come back to it now and then, but the subject just doesn't have that burning urgency anymore.
So, circling back to the original question, I agree that former believers do talk about Christianity fairly frequently, and that this does indicate some concern with the topic - I just haven't seen any evidence that such concern is based in a spiritual need or longing.
[1] "Deconversion" in this context refers to someone who left their religion for no belief in particular. If they became a Wiccan, or a Buddhist, or Jainite, or something like that, I would refer to it as "conversion" instead. There is some interesting work on the psychology of conversion, and the psychology of deconversion seems to me to be the same in some ways and different in others. I suppose I could spend another post or three in comparison and contrast, but that way madness lies.
It's been my perception too that people don't normally leave the faith because of a "desire to sin freely."
ReplyDeleteBut, what I haven't really encountered for the most part is this deep sense of loss. I think I would react that way, Michael. More than anything I would grieve for the lose of God, and a sense of His graceful presence in my life, what that means to me. What you're saying makes perfect sense.
But, in all honesty, though, on most of the deconversion blogs what I've personally encountered has been more, "Free at last," or "I'm a better person without God." "Life is now good."
Even when people discuss some of the more positive things about their former faith, this tends not to focus on a relationship with God, but more on some of the social dynamics of church such as church outings, or social activities.
But, I think if you come from a religious background where it's all about judgement, never measuring up, make a wrong move, and God is out to get you..If you don't believe, and think exactly the right way, you're going to Hell in a hand basket.. I mean who can blame these people? I'm sure I would be feeling the same way.
What I am feeling is a deep sense of hurt in how deconverts are treated by family, and former friends.
I suppose this brings me to my next question. What do you think is the best thing Christian believers can do to show caring, and support to people going through this whole process? I've discussed this before with a former Anglican priest, but I'm interested to hear your ideas, and what anyone else would like to share.
I know we're going a bit off topic, but it does seem all related. Thanks again, Michael.
Becky.
Leaving the faith because of a desire to sin is an idea that I hear from the "turn or burn" crowd. I mentioned it because I thought it was relevant, but it really wasn't directed at you (except in the oblique sense of "this is something that unbelievers do hear from time to time").
ReplyDeleteBut, what I haven't really encountered for the most part is this deep sense of loss. I think I would react that way, Michael. More than anything I would grieve for the lose of God, and a sense of His graceful presence in my life, what that means to me. What you're saying makes perfect sense.
But, in all honesty, though, on most of the deconversion blogs what I've personally encountered has been more, "Free at last," or "I'm a better person without God." "Life is now good."
::nods:: Yes, we're coming to that. I think we're also coming to the point where your experience is simply different from that of unbelievers.
But as far as that reaction goes, the grieving and sense of loss is usually a more... private... stage of the process. I suspect that you're mainly encountering former believers after they've found some sort of new community (often online). Finding other people who've gone through similar things, who don't think there's something wrong with you because you can't believe anymore, is hugely helpful to getting over both the grief, and the fear and uncertainty. ("Why can't I believe? Everybody else can. What's wrong with me?")
Once you're into that sort of recovery stage, one of the things you discover is that not only does life go on, but it can be good again. Often that comes as quite a revelation.
What I am feeling is a deep sense of hurt in how deconverts are treated by family, and former friends.
There's a lot of that, too. But, well, Bruce fairly recently had a post where he asked, basically, "if, as I now believe, God really isn't directly active in the world, what was going on all those times when I thought He was with me?" How much deconversion is a person loss (that relationship with God) and how much is a social loss (church, friends, family) depends an awful lot on the individual situation. For me, as you've guessed, it wasn't much of either: I never had that sense of God's presence personally, and socially I was heading off to college anyway.
I don't think we're going off topic; just expanding a bit, and that's fine. Let's see...
1. Good without God - I want to do a post on this.
2. Interacting with unbelievers as a Christian - basically, the finishing post I originally had in mind. How to show care and support for unbelievers could be part of this, but it might be a post unto itself, too.
So, yeah: we're probably looking at another two or maybe three posts on the topic. That'll probably be Monday; I need to take a breather. (Daylight Savings Time is trying to kill me, I think - or at least make me sick.)
Sharing my personal perspective once again:
ReplyDelete"But, what I haven't really encountered for the most part is this deep sense of loss. I think I would react that way, Michael. More than anything I would grieve for the lose of God, and a sense of His graceful presence in my life, what that means to me.
Probably by the time Becky is reading a de-conversion blog the person has already been through several stages. The first thing they experience, for the most part, is a deep sense of loss. We truly do mourn the loss of our faith, not social activities. A person doesn't de-convert if they feel a "sense of His graceful presence". They've come to a point where they feel that presence was a figment of their imagination. They honestly don't believe there is a God or they honestly don't know if there is a God. Then, yes, what they miss is the sense of community.
She needn't feel that all of their religious experience was bad or judgemental. That is a part of it, but not it's totality.
But, in all honesty, though, on most of the deconversion blogs what I've personally encountered has been more, "Free at last," or "I'm a better person without God." "Life is now good."
This is the reaction that most people have after going through the rest of the stages. You've already been through grief, depression, denial, and anger. When you realize you've given any of your time away to something you now consider to be a lie, you truly will feel this way.
This is not a critique on Becky. I'm simply trying to put it into words in a way she might be able to understand. If de-converts truly believed they felt God's presence, they would never de-convert.
What I am feeling is a deep sense of hurt in how deconverts are treated by family, and former friends.
I appreciate the empathy displayed in this comment. De-converts are often ostracized and marginalized and it is hurtful.
What do you think is the best thing Christian believers can do to show caring, and support to people going through this whole process?
Since most de-converts have been through a plethora of thoughts during the process, the best advice I personally could give would be to love them regardless of their beliefs. Treat them with respect. Ask questions and don't try to tell them how they are wrong. Live your faith out before them and don't actively(i.e. by preaching or working God into every conversation, or strategically dropping scripture) re-convert them. Most of us have gone from fundamentalism, to some form of liberal Christianity, to some sort of spirituality before de-converting all together. We've heard it all. We've been sitting in a pew every Sunday for the last who knows how many. Telling us there's a better way to do Christianity probably isn't going to work, because we've already tried.
Sorry to go off on one.
"don't actively(i.e. by preaching or working God into every conversation, or strategically dropping scripture) re-convert them."
ReplyDeleteThat should have said don't actively attempt to re-convert them.
I feel safe in translating it loosely as "Atheists don't feel the same sort of guilt that believers do when they sin"
ReplyDeleteWell, yeah. What most Evangelical Christians call "sin" and obsess over most of the rest of us call "human nature." By this, of course, I mean sex.
One of the weirdest realizations that I had after leaving was that I spent an awful lot less time thinking about sex after leaving Christianity than I did while I was still one. If you're not forced to obsess over whether or not you're pure enough you don't actually have to think about the thing that causes impurity so much. It's funny how leaving the place that was supposed to free me from being enslaved to sin actually caused me to think a whole lot less about it...
[Blogger hates me right now for some reason. Probably because I left.]
ReplyDeleteBecky: But, what I haven't really encountered for the most part is this deep sense of loss. I think I would react that way, Michael.
It's there. Believe me, it's there.
The main issue at stake is that the "free at last" moments begin to appear at the same time. And since it's not about wanting to sin but about wanting to free yourself of something burdensome, the times are intermixed. That's why the break up analogy is so apt. You're reminded of a really great memory and get wistful, but then reminded of all those times the other person intentionally said really hurtful things and you never want to see them again. As with any break up, it's better to focus on the things that are better now than worry too much about the times that were once good.
Also, if you're talking as a Christian to someone who has left, especially someone for whom the wounds are recent, be aware that they're not going to be open. A lot of former believers won't be open on the internet, either, because of trolls and former churchmates that still know their web addresses. There are those who will seek to take advantage of any opportunity to play evangelist. And, well, they're kinda PITA...
Also, to go back to the break up analogy: if you run in to your ex in the street would you tell that person you're really down in the dumps, or would you tell that person you're happy and things are going great? Think about it.
Becky: What do you think is the best thing Christian believers can do to show caring, and support to people going through this whole process?
ReplyDeleteIn my experience -- and this will sound harsh, but bear with me so I can explain -- "Christian believers" can do nothing to show caring, especially for those of us who come from evangelism-driven Christian communities. See, we all know the Christianese. We all know that there are going to be people trying to get us back in to the fold. And we all know that someone who shows up and tells us that they want to show us god's love is probably working an angle.
We left that place for a reason.
If you want to show love and care, don't show caring and support as a "Christian believer." Show care as a fellow human being. Show support as a friend, family member, or whatever. There's a difference and it's pretty obvious.
A friend approaching as a friend asks if you want to hang out because, y'know, it's Wednesday and you always hang out on Wednesday, and then talks about the subject if you want to. A "Christian believer" approaching as a "Christian believer" sends an email out of nowhere after not talking to you for six months, spends four paragraphs explaining to you why you left, and then says that they would love to see you again and will totally accept you if you decide to come back to church (absolutely true story. Stories, actually).
There's a difference.
Geds said:
ReplyDelete"A "Christian believer" approaching as a "Christian believer" sends an email out of nowhere after not talking to you for six months, spends four paragraphs explaining to you why you left, and then says that they would love to see you again and will totally accept you if you decide to come back to church (absolutely true story. Stories, actually)."
That's because Paul has told believers to excommunicate anyone who calls or has called himself a believer when they fail to act as such, only welcoming them back if they fall into line. Christians are supposed to disassociate themselves from us. Nice, eh?
That's because Paul has told believers to excommunicate anyone who calls or has called himself a believer when they fail to act as such, only welcoming them back if they fall into line. Christians are supposed to disassociate themselves from us. Nice, eh?
ReplyDeleteI'm actually hesitant to prescribe such ill will to my former brethren. After all, Paul in specific and the Bible in general say a lot of things that the average Christian doesn't listen to...
I'm far more willing to work under the assumption that they're well-meaning but misguided and myopic. They know what they believe and they know I once believed the same. They also know all of the things that they and I have been told causes people to stop believing. So the logical response in that case is to think, "Maybe I should go remind him."
That, especially when it comes out of the blue and saddled with all of the silly baggage, is where the problem lies.
I suppose that was a bit cynical of me. But I have been told by some of my friends that should I behave in such a way as to no longer be considered a believer they would, in fact, have to apply church discipline. You know, the whole "better to be turned over to satan in this life to save my soul" thing. These are friends who would normally call and ask to "hang out because, y'know, it's Wednesday and you always hang out on Wednesday".
ReplyDeleteThere are others on the periphery who would want to reach out in the manner you described but either wouldn't know what to say other than to give their take on why I left and let me know I'd be accepted should I decide to return or because they lack any serious rebuttal to my reasons for leaving they opt to politely bow out. Maybe they're even afraid that since they don't have answers it might weaken their faith as well. I certainly wouldn't want to do that. That's their walk to make.
But I have been told by some of my friends that should I behave in such a way as to no longer be considered a believer they would, in fact, have to apply church discipline.
ReplyDeleteDamn. That sucks. I suppose this is just one of those YMMV things. The people I went to church with weren't really too big on the whole church discipline thing.
So I guess I had that goin' for me.
D'Ma, what you're saying reminds me of a quote from St. Francis of Assisi. He said, "Preach the gospel. Use words if necessary." Sometimes Christians do really forget that loving and accepting actions speak volumes, more than anything we can say.
ReplyDeleteGEDS, I guess no one wants to be considered another person's project. We all want that acceptance and empathy that comes because we're human.. Good advice.
Michael, it makes sense about what you're saying about grieving, and loss being more private. And, probably this isn't going to be shared as openly as when things are going well.
Becky.
I most certainly shared my loss and hurt on my blog. I'm thankful I had it too because it was nice to have a place where I could just let it all out. It was a pleasant surprise when other people began to comment that they understood and had been there themselves.
ReplyDeleteWith that said I think it's freeing because you no longer have to try to stick to those beliefs that felt so wrong. Such as condemning gays and all the hang ups about sex and impure thoughts.It's quite tiresome to constantly worry that you are doing something to displease God.