This post is technically an epilogue to a series of blog posts that I made a couple years ago, titled Destroying God. To read these posts, visit: Destroying God Pt. 1
I am a lost boy. I know it’s a silly title used in the childhood movie, Peter Pan, but I find it to be an appropriate name for a more serious circumstance of mine. I am lost because I don’t know who I am. My identity is a mirage; it’s visible at some moments, but then it vanishes the next second. There are times in which I am so sure of who I am and what I believe in. I hold on to that sense of identity with gripping desperation. That sense of identity is my north star that guides me through my days; governing my emotions, actions, thoughts and meditations. Eventually, however, something happens in my life and my foundation (notion of who I am) is shattered by an unforeseeable earthquake. This “earthquake” is an exposure to a different reality or a conviction of my waywardness. This conviction of my waywardness usually includes someone or something demonstrating to me that I have made certain extreme decisions because of my confidence in my identity.
The earthquake that shattered my foundational identity occurred my sophomore year of college when my faith in God was deconstructed and forsaken. The greatest betrayal I ever experienced was enacted by the Supreme Sovereign Being of the Universe. This God I had believed in had promised me that He would care for me for my whole life and would put me in situations in which my faith in Him would be strengthened. Sadly, this God let me down and I was put in several situations that challenged my belief in Him. In fact, this God didn’t just put me in situations in which my belief was challenged, but instead, I was put in situations that decimated my belief in Him. Before that sophomore year of college, every decision I had made and every thought that I had thought was always considering this God that I believed in. I wanted to please my Master and wanted to be blessed because of my righteous deeds. The reward for these “righteous deeds” obviously didn’t meet my expectations.
Of course, I wasn’t actually betrayed by God. In all honesty, I was betrayed by the institution that taught me to believe in God through using specific beliefs and practices. The church taught me that God was present in every facet of my life, watching over me and guiding me. I believed their theology with such vigor that I followed it to the ends of the earths. I would pray to God to ask for advice about how to live and miraculously, those answers would appear out of nowhere! Or so I thought. The reality was probably more that these “answers” were thoughts of mine that I interpreted to be words of God.
Considering my previous relationship with God, it’s easy to understand how great of a fall I fell once that faith was shattered. The voice that gave me guidance about everything had suddenly become silent. I wasn’t just sad or disoriented, I was angry. I couldn’t be angry at God because I didn’t believe in God anymore. The only entity I could direct my anger toward, therefore, was the people who had initially implanted that belief of God within me. I became angry at the people who, for years, gave me advice about how to live as a good Christian and who told me that God is always steadfast and loving. Due to my experiences that sophomore year, I began to think that God wasn’t loving because I had begun to learn about how certain social structures around the world, torture and annihilate powerless victims. It was hard to envision God’s love when I was being made aware of how cruel this world is. The only party that I found that I could direct my anger towards were those that had lied to me and had not taught me about this global reality.
To read the next part of these posts, go to II. Revenge