Rooster Booster wrote:There is actually a choice there also to be fair, isn't there. I'm an example of that to a degree. Strict RC background. Grew up with questions. Now not very religious at all, but not disrespectful to any.
I do know know what you mean. Religion can often make no sense to others that don't have the 'faith" that they do. But I'm a lot more laid back about it all. I have a mormon lady in my psychology class. Some of the things she says and despite me being a lapsed, left footer, Carbolic, I think, oh well. I don't think like that, good luck to you if you think that. It's your life and you're totally entitled to think, believe or feel the way you do. I try not to judge her as a person. There was one funny incident though, when she didn't want an alcoholic drink in the pub and proudly mentioned it was part of her faith. As a joke, I pointed out that even Jesus drank wine. He even turned water into it. She sort of laughed.
I grew up in a pretty fundamentalist evangelical household. Moving around as much as we did, and with a minister as a father, I never quite got into the relationships with peers that might have hauled me out of it earlier. Church and Sunday school, with Sunshine Corner on a Monday evening; holidays to very religious friends. All sorts of stuff (one bit of the family were Plymouth Brethren).
In my early teens, my parents took me (and my sister) to a series of evangelical crusade meetings over a two-week period (my father was involved in the organisation). In the intensely emotional atmosphere, what my parents wanted to happen did: both of us experienced 'conversion', 'born-again' experiences.
What had been implanted was strengthened.
Now after leaving home some years later, I had given up going to church except occasionally (and when I did, it was high CofE rather than some non-conformist denomination). But the residual stuff clings on. And on. In my case – and I've heard and read that this is very, very similar to those brought up as Catholics – it was the sense of guilt that continued.
I still had a core belief in some sort of god, but nobody challenged that – to be honest, it wasn't something discussed much at all.
And the guilt was certainly not discussed. You don't discuss guilt.
It lasted until I was, in essence, 40. Then one day, I found I was filling in the census and, when I came to the religion question, I realised I was going to answer 'none'. It had gone. With it had finally gone the guilt too.
I suspect that the seed of this finally going was a very brief 'challenge' made by someone I'd met a couple of years earlier. In a conversation, I'd said that I still maintained a belief in a god – and he'd simply asked 'why?' and then dropped the subject. In the back of my mind, I suspect, that had stewed around for the following period.
Interestingly (perhaps!), that same person noted, after this, that it was as though my mind had been 'locked in a cage'. Certainly I'm aware that, within the space of about two years, my personal vocabulary
in use expanded massively. It is possibly also no coincidence that, in the years since, I've read more literary fiction than in the entire time since school, and read more non-fiction than in my entire life to that point.
I was angry as all hell for a few years, in particular, feeling – apart from anything else – that my parents had contrived to deny me the chance to have a proper youth (their religiosity was also tied up with great strictness about all manner of thing, including how a 'young lady' was supposed to behave – and, for my mother particularly, how the daughter of a minister was supposed to behave; 'set an example' was, in essence, the answer to that one).
The anger has lifted. As have other things – guilt, believe it or not, at just relaxing. I used to have this deep-seated feeling that, if you went on holiday, you couldn't just stop. You had to Do Things. There's also a residual, secularised version of the religious guilt sometimes: a sense that 'oh god, I'll pay for feeling this happy at some point'. But at least I know and can recognise these things for what they are.
But choice? Nah.