Staffer Reflects on Her Religious Conversion

“Does someone want to share their feelings about the sermon?” my youth pastor asks my small group.

Nothing. I feel nothing. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to make a connection between the word of God and my life. There is nothing there; this isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. I’m 16, I can think for myself. I should understand; I should be able to connect, but I can’t. This left me confused about what I believed and who I was.

Village Presbyterian Church, Sunday school, youth groups, clubs, mission trips, bible studies and retreats: I’ve been attending all of these since I can remember, looking for Jesus. I never found Him. Instead I found myself uncomfortable,  unable to answer any questions. I would simply sit in silence.

The obligation to be a strong and devout Christian came from everyone around me. My family, my friends and the leaders in the religious groups I was part of are confident in what they believe in and I thought that if I had that conviction, I would find out who I am.

Hearing about how people found Jesus and magically everything would be perfect. I wanted that, because all of these doubts about who I was and what I believed would finally be answered. I wasn’t one of those people. These were some of the nicest and easiest people to talk to about anything, except my faith.

As bad as I wanted to believe, I had too many questions and I couldn’t put all of my trust into one idea. It wasn’t logical to do that. Why should I put everything into something that may or may not exist? This irrational idea hit me hardest when I couldn’t pray for my prematurely born baby cousin,  to live. My family’s prayers weren’t going to save her, the doctors were. God wasn’t, either. A prayer won’t keep her breathing, but a ventilator would. I didn’t understand how the rest of my family could be so trusting.

It has taken me 16 years to come to terms with the fact that Christianity wasn’t right for me and I was fighting to be a person I wasn’t. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t just lying to myself, but to everyone around me.

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I got away from all of religion for the summer when I lived in rural Northern Peru as part of the Amigos de Las Americas. There were no obligations to go to church or talk about scripture with anyone. I also started to see who I was and what I really wanted in life and what to put my beliefs in. Arriving at  the conclusion that it was time to stop pretending to be a Christian.

I didn’t know who to talk to about this change. My mom went to church every Sunday, my dad was involved in my religious life and all my friends were Christian or Jewish. I was stuck between Christianity and atheism; I wasn’t either but I didn’t know what I was. The idea of a strict organized religion which ostracized others who didn’t believe or conform to their principals made my skin crawl. On the other hand, I believe that there is some kind of higher power and  people could believe whatever they wanted.

Stuck in this gray area, I began to look at other options. Buddhism began to look like a more attractive religion. It wasn’t about believing that one thing was right, but about living your life based on principles that would make you a more admirable person, not a just a “true believer.”

I didn’t tell anyone.  I was too afraid  of being judged. I couldn’t  find the words that would articulate my reasoning for my break from Christianity and this potential conversion. I kept it to myself. I lied to my parents when I went to meet with the leader of a temple in Kansas City to discuss a potential switch. I went to this complete stranger because I did not trust anyone in my life to not judge my choice

I began going to meditations; I made up excuses and said I was out studying. I couldn’t bring myself to face the other people. I wanted them to understand why I’m not a Christian anymore. I couldn’t find the words, neither could I find the strength to be different and be open about it. Pushing Christianity for such a long time had been all about fitting in, and now I am choosing to stand out.

Keeping all of this to myself was not just about the fear of judgement, but the my uncertainty about my beliefs. With Buddhism I’ve found a place that balances what I believe in and what I value, but I am still not sure. I still don’t know what I’m doing. I do know now that whether I’m Buddhist or nothing at all, I closer to knowing  the person I am because this choice  to no longer be Christian.