Why I left the Christian Church

By ALICE BUCHANAN
Ariel Enterprises

I never thought in a million years I would ever say such words: “I left the Christian church.”

Whatever I've been through in my life, I've always, for the past 25-plus years, relied on the one foundation for my life: my faith, my belief in God, the one True God, the Christian God, and Christ Jesus, His Son.

But now, my life has changed. I have left the Christian church. It's not definitely a permanent thing. I just knew I needed to leave my church, perhaps find one where I felt more comfortable.

It started with the thought of Hell. It started with the thought that my son, if he didn't accept Jesus as his personal savior, would go to Hell.

And I didn't believe that. I didn't believe that the God I thought I knew would throw him into a burning lake of fire and leave him to suffer forever and ever in this place called Hell.

I couldn't believe a loving, merciful God would allow such a thing. It really didn't make any sense to me. Why would a loving being of any kind permit millions of souls to suffer eternally just because they had never heard the name Jesus, or, if they had, they'd heard it in such a way that it didn't make sense to them, didn't  seem worth considering.

I talked to my pastor about it. He assured me that the church as a whole – all the people who comprised this particular body – were very much varied in their beliefs about this subject. That I was not alone in my feelings about it.

But I wasn't convinced, and I felt the unreasonableness of this belief hover over the congregation; and it seemed to be growing. It seemed to me that the church body was becoming more legalistic, less “real” somehow.

That's what led me to eventually leave my church, although it was several months before I actually stopped attending.

The historical Jesus

I do know that Jesus was a real person. But his role in the world as the only Son of God, the only way to eternal life, the only way to knowing God, to being in touch with our spiritual selves – that was where my doubts lay.

I half-heartedly thought about visiting other churches in town, but the truth was that I had no intention of joining another church. I had already visited many, many churches in town over the years because I had church-hunted for some time before I found the church where I eventually stayed for years.

It's been three years since I left., and I am so glad that I did.

Since I left, I have seen myself grow intellectually, I have learned to listen more fully, to pay attention with more open ears and heart ... because I'm not always diligent about filtering everything I hear through my ideas of church doctrine.

I didn't know what this time would bring forth for me. I felt confused and unsettled for quite some time. I finally came to believe that a loving God would understand exactly where I was spiritually, would understand it better than I understood it! A loving God would easily forgive my doubts and questions and philosophy samplings. And if I ended up coming back to this loving God, I believed I would be lovingly welcomed.

One of the things that assisted me the most was bringing to mind a few conversations I had had with a strict atheist. I argued my points about God, and he argued his about no-God. And his main argument was something about God being unknowable, and the church, he maintained, is insane. And people's beliefs, he thought, more often than not got them into trouble and led them to become empty-headed. When one places all of their faith and intellect on God, blindly following a set of rules rather than being open to what's all around them, they're likely to make poor decisions, and they do, he said.

I never did come over to his side fully, but those conversations made me really judge my own set of beliefs, about how much sense they made or didn't, about whether they were absolutely true, and about being genuinely prepared the next time I spoke with an atheist about my beliefs.
 
Perhaps the most important exercise was one I employed for just a moment at a time, thinking about what the world would look like if there were no God -- thinking like an atheist, just briefly from time to time as various situations arose.
 
It was a totally strange thought pattern to me. But the more I tried it, the more interesting it was. I mean, it was just plain interesting to think about life in a completely different way.

Resentment toward the church

To be honest, I sometimes feel anger, or perhaps it's resentment, about the years I spent in the church. This isn't a prevalent feeling, but I do feel it simmering underneath. Here I had trusted the church to tell me the truth in all things. But the church's job is to educate us based on ancient texts. Its job is to support and comfort us during our journeys on the narrow path as a “peculiar people.”

I feel a bit tricked. But I know it wasn't intentional. And I know it's a totally complex subject, certainly not black and white.

I have to say I was happy to be out of the Christian church during the arguments going on in Kansas, Pennsylvania and a few other states over the teaching of evolution in science classes versus creationism or intelligent design. Churches began to take their stands for the common sense of science research or for the Bible's version of creation. Some tried to straddle both philosophies. Congregations had to grapple with these ideas, and individually, people were forced to stretch their minds. It's not easy to shed ideas that have been a part of your thinking all your life.

As for me, I haven't figured out life, nor do I fully understand my spiritual nature, nor am I perfectly at peace about my newfound underpinnings. But I do feel I am on the right path for me. Where it will lead me, I don't know. I can't say I consider myself an athiest. Perhaps I'll even come back to the Christian church with a new understanding of how the ancient scriptures fit in with the modern world.