From West to East... to Atheism Pt.One

[The Red Prince]

Hello all-- I hope this message finds you all well. This is my first serious post on this forum, the topic is an effort to externalize events that have been very close to my heart, as well as my lifelong effort in search for truth in spite of the plethora of "blinders" that have been installed on the chariot of my mind for the sake of my father's emotional comfort. 

 

To start my name is Matthew, aged 22, African American. I have lived in Columbus Ohio all of my life, and currently a struggling (REALLY struggling) musician. I play the violin, forte in avant-garde music and deconstruction. I mention this because it's indicative of how my mind works: to harness logic to render a given subject down to it's purest expression, or to unveil its objective Truth. I believe that it is this drive that led me into the many religious traditions I've learned about and practiced, as well as my final leaving of the concept of creator all together. 

 

Like most, I was raised in a Christian household. If my father was not reprimanding me as a small child, he spoke of his religious philosophy ad nauseum. I naturally was extremely inquisitive, and the first occupation I wanted to be was a scientist-- I really LOVE to learn. I learned very early not to question the words of my father, not for any threat of violence ( though that did occur) but because I really seemed to cause harm to him personally when I ever questioned him, and he would disassociate himself from me for some time. I would rather a beating than to be alone. I remember one time I asked him if I could have a dog (I was around 3), and he said "maybe". I was ELATED, he didn't say yes, but he didn't say no either,  so "maybe" in my head was obviously more positive than "no", so if I was a good boy, "maybe" I could sway the verdict to "yes!" someday. Time passed, and he said nothing of it-- maybe he forgot? I reminded him, asking again. "Maybe" in his light tone again, but I was a bit more skeptical this time. I kept asking, and got the same answer; now "maybe" was getting pretty annoying, and I started to just want a straight answer. One day I asked him again, and he said "maybe" where I quickly responded "so maybe means no right? Every time you say maybe I don't get anything." I'll never forget the look on his face, he was genuinely shocked speechless, probably because I didn't talk very much at time and the information I had gathered from my observations were pretty concise for a 3 year old. My mom was present at the time and instantly started cracking up, bellowing "He really gotcha there Mark, whatcha gonna say to that?". I saw him lower his head and narrow his eyes(tense) with unmistakable disdain, avoiding eye contact with me. I made the silent choice then to never do that again, I never wanted to hurt my Dad. Needless to say, he stopped talking to me for some time which was really painful to me, especially since I was alone for most of the day anyway. 

 

Later on, Dad would speak to me about religion A LOT. Not only did he believe in his doctrine, but believed he had performed many miracles himself! As a kid this captured my imagination, and really inspired me to study religion with all I had --"Maybe" then I could control my universe as well? He spoke on glossolalia (tongues), prophecy, hinted on Revelations, and the spiritual sight (the seeing of demons and angels) along with all the usual indoctrination.

 

This particular instance of which I am about describe I'm sure has sealed my fate, and realization of my own "atheism" (for lack of better words). Around the age of 9 or 10, My Father would randomly take me to the side to solidify my "belief". Shortly after this series of lectures I under immense emotional strain and fear of damnation decided to be baptized. Back then he was still much taller than me, and I remember him casting a shadow over my face as he laid out his huge, bulky fists in front of me. "Choose" he would say in a deep voice "Choose, your fate, choose your master, life or death, good or bad, God... or Satan." The air was tense, I felt the fate of being held in the balance. My father's eyes were indifferent, though I knew what choice he'd rather me take. Naturally I chose "God", and he'd smile and walk away-- phew!

This happened a few more times (didn't I just save my soul yesterday?), until he took me aside to the living room to introduce me to the point of SUBMISSION.

 

The television was off, the lights dimmed (or they seemed to be). That familiar sense of tension was in the air, Father paced back and forth in front the broken fireplace. He spoke in a low, grave tone and started to elucidate the virtue of unconditional surrender, it's eternal imperative of a "true" christian for a couple hours. As usual, I simply did not possess the attention span to follow everything he said, and I started to feel quite frustrated and scared-- was I missing something? This is cosmic knowledge here and my flesh is simply too weak to withstand the divine logos! He asked me finally, "Imagine you are before the Lord, Christ at his right hand-- how would you greet him?" I smiled and bent my knees-- "NO. You need to be on your face." or something to that effect. It took  awhile, but I finally got groveling down. Father smiled and left, leaving me completely overwhelmed, but relieved. 

 

 

I want to express my journey to atheism because I have an annoying need to share my true thoughts, but the journey is simply too long to put in a single post. I would love to see what you guys on here think about this so far, if there are any thoughts you would like to add. Thank you