My Religiously Confused Childhood

I grew up in a bit of religious confusion and eventual abuse. My mom was catholic, my dad baptist. Neither of them actively went to church and so obviously my brothers and I didn’t go. I don’t regret this as to seeing some of the effect of going had on others. When asked if I believed in God I answered honestly by saying “I don’t know.” This was usually followed by “You’re going to Hell.” from both other children and adults. Now imagine the effect that would have on a child. These people are saying bad things to me, they hate me because I’m not like them. I don’t share their views and so automatically I’m a bad person.

(courtesy of shuttershock)

My 1st kickboxing instructor called himself a recovering catholic. He tells this story of how he went to Sunday school and had asked a nun why the 10 Commandments were different in 2 books. The nun quickly chastised him saying “God doesn’t like people who question him” and proceeded to whip him. This I feel was not an appropriate response to a simple question. A few days go by and my instructor got bit by a dog on the way home from school. The nun heard about it and told him that God had punished him. Here my instructor is 9 years old and was just told God put a hit out on him using Lassie. That’s just wrong. Took him years to have an independent thought again regarding religion and his own personal interpretation. He was simply too scared… and possibly scarred.

But back to me, where do I sit on religion? Still not sure really but what I did know is that my parents raised me to be nice to others, don’t start trouble and don’t go looking for fights. So I simply just didn’t talk to anyone about it. I knew something was wrong, I read the Bible. Surely this negative experience was not the standard christian attitude. I decided to watch others and see if I saw a more positive outlook and my views were dimmed further. I saw people who went to church every Sunday and broke every Commandment by Tuesday. They spoke badly about the poor, they spoke badly about friends behind their back, and did not really embody one iota of what the book preached. But they went to church, they put money in the collection plate and they had so many crosses and religious symbolism around the house it looked like the Vatican had thrown up in there.

From the time I was 9 to 18, every time I tried to talk to someone about religion and ask questions of faith I was slammed on. It wasn’t a conversation, I was dictated to. I actually had some parents stop their kids from playing with me and my brothers because we weren’t the “good church people”. I started to understand there was growing intolerance towards those who were unsure. Again going back to how my parents raised me. I didn’t want to be like these people. Such hate for those who are different from them, it was rather sickening. I did not and do not see the world as divisions due to faith, color, creed, sexual orientation etc. What I see is a lot of different people who deserve every right I do and every right to life.

Furthering my own research as a teenager I learned a few startling things. The Mormon Church leader Brigham Young taught that God would curse those who married someone of the black race. That God had taken rights away from the black race.

In certain Pentecostal churches here (Texas) it is frowned upon as well for a white and black church member to get married. It is encouraged that the black church members stick together so to speak. They should try to meet someone to marry and bring that person into the church. And don’t get me started on the speaking in tongue stuff. I will never understand that.I also did not agree with either religion's view on women. Sorry I prefer to think both sexes are equal.

My view of the christian religion was very jaded. Intolerance ran rampant, those claiming to be devout were not so much and some of the very doctrine I saw was sexist, racist and downright 13th century thinking. I just couldn’t get behind it…. At all. The experience I had contradicted the values my parents instilled in me. And so I have grown up over the years in a witness protection of a sense. I didn’t really ask questions or express my views. I have friends of various races, creed and religions but I dare not bring it up. I didn’t want to lose friends over something I found to be trivial.

Since that time I have met others who are better examples of various religious organizations. And while we may not agree on certain things we can have good peaceful conversations and I do not think they are bad people, just different. And different doesn’t mean bad. It means they have a different view and we respect each others right to choose our own beliefs.