I often find religious, spiritual or theological debates a futile endeavour. I neither promote nor fear conversion. I don’t believe it is my job as a Christian to convince people that their current state of presumed misery could be wiped away by some mystical salvation. Likewise, I don’t believe that hearing the convictions of those from other faiths, or of no faith, is somehow a threat to my own stance. Quite the contrary: I think open conversation between varying faith stances is integral, as I will discuss in a later post. But lately I have found myself in conversation with many strong personalities from various sides who are very set in their ways, and I’ve quickly discovered that I am not being engaged in these conversations for the real benefit of conversation, but just as a receptacle into which they can shout their beliefs out loud.

The thing is, in the vast majority of cases, I understand and sympathize with where everyone is coming from, regardless of their stance. In some cases I’ve had similar experiences to theirs. In others, I’ve heard over and over stories and thought processes that would lead any reasonable person to the place they are currently in. Yet so many are afraid to open their minds to the experiences of others.

How did we all end up this way?

I address this question knowing that I cannot speak for everyone. I can share what I have seen and heard from others, including many people I love and respect deeply. I can speak only one interpretation of these facts.

I start with how average mainstream modern Christians are often seen as hypocritical, unintelligent, judgmental, exclusionary conservatives. My point in this article is not to confirm or refute these labels, nor to stereotype an entire religion. What I’m trying to say is that from within the church, there are a lot of genuinely motivated reasons why thoughtful, loving, intelligent individuals find themselves committed to this religion, maybe stubbornly and unyieldingly so.

The average mainstream modern church can be a very life-affirming place for the average mainstream modern person. It is usually full of loving welcome (especially as a child) and warmth, music, togetherness. It is full of both unspoken and spoken rituals that can lead one to feel like part of something greater. Praying together, singing, being invited into communion, these things create a sensation of belonging and mutual love that is very strong, very powerful and very energizing. Also, I think many people within the church have at some point experienced what I would consider the divine or the sacred. Moments that confirm, affirm, or connect us to something greater than ourselves. That evoke deep emotional responses that cannot and should not be explained or defined.

In the face of all that, I think it’s understandable that people experiencing these things want to choose those (admittedly great) feelings over doubt. They have been affirmed and reaffirmed on some sort of semi regular basis through both the joys and the struggles of their lives. When those affirmations are challenged, it is natural to want to find a safe place to cherish those feelings, and a reason why doubting them would be wrong. And the church has spent many years using that desire for affirmation to create seemingly innocuous statements so that people can feel right in wanting to belong, without threatening church authority. Church lines like “god’s plan is not for us to understand” discourage questioning while being gently reassuring of an unknown answer. Like picking the scariest words from the bible to say that god loves YOU (even if god isn’t loving someone else) and that’s why you somehow owe god and the church some sort of tribute and loyalty. Or, in some cases, threatening hell or denial of entrance to heaven, which can create a pretty strong motivation to stick to your guns, to avoid the temptation of doubt. And the thing is, if you feel loved, belonged, part of something greater, if you’ve experienced moments of something you’ll never be able to explain, I can really understand why you would accept that payoff. And slowly, without knowledge, thought or even regret, you become stubbornly stuck in your beliefs with a refusal to even consider an outside view.

On to how the modern mainstream atheist can often be seen as harsh, unfeeling, closed-minded, and pretentious. In my experience with talking with many many many atheists over the years, I have heard dozens of stories about how they find themselves in their own belief system. And whether they grew up churched or unchurched, the average adamant atheist has thought about faith at some point. Nearly all the stories I have heard fall into one of two categories. The first one is what I call the church horror story. They grew up in the church, came out as gay and the people they love and trusted betrayed them. They went to their first youth group meeting with a friend and were told to burn all their rock music lest they be tempted by Satan. The scenarios are endless but they all involve being betrayed by a group of people who are supposed to love and welcome them for exactly who they are. In the face of that, I am never surprised when so many see the church as a place of judgement and vow never to return.

The second category of atheistic catalysts is what I call .. thinking. As a child or an adult, at some point, a person says to themselves “being swallowed by a fish and spit up three days later seems, well, impossible” or “Why does god expect me to love everyone, but the church won’t accept gay people, or women ministers, or whatever”. And if there is no one available to that questioner with a willingness to discuss openly, or with enough personal experience of the divine or sacred, it’s easy to feel that you’ve outsmarted the system. That religion is like a big Santa-Claus-style conspiracy and once you know the “truth” you’ve outgrown religion. I certainly don’t blame people who have come to this conclusion. I do blame the church for being stuck in traditional practices without developing an understanding of its own complexity, for creating a culture of avoiding conversations, and for refusing to move past a Sunday-School-level understanding of its own literature. But I really can see why people in this circumstance become atheists. In either of these cases, slowly, without knowledge, thought or even regret, you become stubbornly stuck in your beliefs with a refusal to even consider an outside view.

I sometimes get very frustrated when talking with either group of stubborn people. Not because their convictions are wrong, but because they are missing out on so much understanding that I think could bring peace and respect to others. I think that’s something worth fighting for.