From Theist to Atheist: A Journey of Faith and Doubt

I've often spoken of my conversion from atheism in the 90s to my current religious faith. Yet, the biggest threat to my Christian belief has been American evangelicalism. This journey is one of both unconditional faith and profound doubt, marked by personal beliefs and historical truths.

The Transcendent Beauty of Jesus in Scriptures

At the core of my faith is a deep-seated belief in the character of Jesus, captured in the scriptures. This transcendent beauty is more than just words on a page—it's a personal experience that remains unshaken. I believe in the Logos, an embodiment of divine wisdom, and the profound experiences that have sculpted this belief. For instance, moments akin to those described in Isaiah’s prophecy, where people feel a genuine connection to a higher power, form the essence of my faith. Here, religion isn’t an opiate or a mere projection of the ego; it’s something far more profound and real.

The Human Connection Behind Religious Texts

However, another crucial facet of my faith lies in figures like Paul and Peter. These individuals are not perfect, but their brokenness and imperfect perspectives shaped the core of Christianity. Just as my inadequacies don’t hinder my ability to teach mathematics to a child, their imperfections don’t negate the truth they shared. Light, though distorted, still travels in a straight line, and these experiences communicated the Holy Spirit in a profound manner.

For years, I trusted the apostles, believing that their interactions with Jesus genuinely changed them and formed the Christian movement. The idea that the resurrection may have occurred also strengthens this belief, intertwined as it is with the first type of faith. However, this belief needs to be separated from the empirical verifiability of the events in the scriptures. In essence, the historical and personal nature of these beliefs is unshakeable.

The Stain of Modern Evangelicalism

Unfortunately, recent events, particularly the emergence of MAGA and its supporters, have shaken my faith. Figures like Marjorie Taylor-Greene embody an unsettling blend of truth and deception. If she believes these beliefs to be a form of worship, then I, too, would consider myself an atheist—albeit a fierce one. The argument posited by C.S. Lewis—that if Jesus is not lunatic or Lord, He would be the personification of an evil beyond our comprehension—also applies to the core MAGA conspiracy theorists.

They know they are lying and doing terrible things but feel justified in their actions, much like historical figures who perpetuated injustice in the name of righteousness. The possibility that the very foundations of my faith—figures like Peter and Paul—could be part of a grand lie is profoundly disturbing. This raises questions about the inherent truth and the possibility of manipulating history and believers to achieve one’s aims.

The Dark Side of Humanity and the Bible

Yet, the Bible itself presents a worldview where humanity is inherently flawed. Romans 3:10–12 profoundly encapsulates this idea: ‘There is no one righteous not even one; there is no one who understands; there is no one who seeks God. All have turned away…’ This irony cuts deep, especially as I contemplate figures like Saul-Paul, the chief of sinners, possibly committing murder. It’s a painful reality that aligns with the crucifixion of Jesus, as described in the Bible.

The irony of Trumpism further reinforces these beliefs. It confirms the pervasive nature of human sin and the cyclical pattern of historical wrongdoings. This perspective aligns with Revelation, which warns us about the evil and hubris of individuals like Nero and Nebuchadnezzar, and even ourselves. The message of the Bible is a stark reminder of the darkness within us and the potentiality of using it to serve nefarious purposes.

Ultimately, while Trumpism does not shake the core of my faith, it underscores the tragic reality of humanity’s capacity for evil and the importance of vigilance in distinguishing truth from manipulation.

In a world where some prefer to be Russian over Democrat, I find solace in the writings of Dostoevsky, whose works often grapple with similar themes of human suffering and the search for meaning.