Why I left religion...

I'm joining a group on Facebook and you apparently need to share your deconversion experience. So check it:

I was born at a very young age into a Catholic family. I went through the Catholic education system through college, including Notre Dame. Let's face it, I was good at theology. I could justify anything. In my college theology class (which, to its credit, was systematic and not dogmatic), I think I missed one question the entire semester. I had mad Bible knowledge skillz.

Now, after about the first half of freshman year I stopped attending weekly mass in the chapel, and the only thing I did in church during my year in Catholic Spain was take pictures. So, I had drifted. But you know, still game, I guess.

There were some very early signs that I was not cut out for religion (or, as I later realized, that it was not cut out for me). I think the first sign that what I was doing was completely mindless was when I decided not to say anything during Mass. I was in 5th grade, and it was something to do during Mass (which, all through high school, I would attend only to oggle tits). My reasoning was that "Well, God knows what I think. He hears me praying silently to myself. So, why should I have to open my gob?" I was gobsmacked, therefore, when the teacher came up to me after Mass and actually scolded me and said, "Bingy (I was young), you didn't say one thing during Mass." My thought was, "Well, why is that necessary? I mean, what's the point if He already knows? I can't believe you noticed." But I'm sure I mumbled that I was sorry I was not Catholic enough or something, but that little slice of absurdity always stuck with me. The other thing was the rote memorization of prayers during religion class. We were graded for memorizing prayers.

When I was in fourth grade, I was talking in class or something, and my teacher, a nun said, "Bingy, was that you who was talking?" And through my 4th grade mind I thought, well, I'm supposed to tell the truth. "Yes." And she banned me from using a pen, which we had started doing and was a big sign of prestige for the kids. Well, I sure learned my lesson. Don't tell nuns the truth.

Bitch.

I was never a good Catholic. No Catholics are ever good Catholics (this is doubly true for the really Catholic ones). I think that the last flirtation with the faith was when the Pope came to St. Louis. I was charmed, but I later found out that we were used as propaganda. The only way you could go downtown to see the Pope was to take a bus to the riverfront and then to walk to the event from there. That was how it was done. This was the youth day, mind you. All the young people in the city who were going went that way; we HAD to. On the news that night, we were described as something along the lines of "Youth marching in support of the Pope." No. We were forced to do that. It would have made more sense to just drop us off near by, but that was how it was spun. I was really pissed off. That was the last time that they would use me.

The Catholic sex scandal ended it for me. After that, any pretense to claim legitimate moral authority with a clear conscience on the part of Church officials was permanently shattered, and I became convinced, on the whole, that the world was worse off for its presence, really. Not that they are taking over the world or anything. Just that they exert power for the sake of exerting power. I have no use for that anymore.

Also, since then, I have blossomed into a sort of serious academic who occasionally makes poop jokes.

HJ