He died and not for anyone’s sins.
Public service announcement:
((Belief in any organized religion perverts ones internal identity. When one represses the dark qualities aka sex and aggression, it festers and ferments. What stomps out individuality more than “an identity in christ.” True peace comes from a deep love of ones shame.))
Just in case anyone asks;
I am going to hell,
Instead.
Yes, yes —
I understood
I had a “choice”
If anyone can call it that.
I don’t believe in Jesus died for the sins of the world. I don’t believe the Bible was written by any other hand but the authors own. I don’t feel the need to save face and slide out of the pews quietly. I am not angry at God; I also once believed fervently. Embarrassingly so.
The reason I believed in a Christian god was due to having parents that believed in this version of reality. If I was born in the Middle East, or anywhere else in the world — I may be participating in their cultural interpretation of spirituality. In the end, I wanted to please my mother and father; as do all children who get baptized under the guise of “free will.”
I once publicly flaunted my beliefs; so, I think it is fair to share in a similar manner as well.
Coming out of treatment, my identity was incredibly smashed, broken. I didn’t know who I was — so I reached for a fill-in-the-blank identity in Christ with a built in community at church. And for awhile, I felt healed. The problem was these belief systems are poison and erode individuality. I broke out of the cult of the Bible in 2016. I realized this picture of Jesus painted was a white-washed version of some constructed narrative of some religious organization.
It’s deeper than that now; I committed the unforgivable sin that did prevent access into some imaginary gates — I thought very deeply about why I believed what I did. I couldn’t ignore the inconsistencies any longer. And that version of me died a very slow death.
I only state this public service announcement to proclaim my sincerest apologies towards the communities that I have hurt by my ignorance and arrogance. Truthfully, I also injured myself with my own disgust of self taught by my parents who were taught by theirs. I broke the code, guys.
And it all kind of feels sad;
Like I found out Santa clause isn’t real
At twenty-nine years old.
Amen.