Confessions of a Geek Girl Pt 4: A Reflection on Faith

There’s an old adage that basically says talking politics or religion will likely end in an argument. Well, I haven’t shied away from politics and addressed religion in abstract terms. I think it’s time to look at faith and religion in a more personal context. 

I grew up in a moderately religious household. My mom and stepdad certainly weren’t atheist or agnostic, but they also weren’t faithfully practicing a religion. It was always clear that my family were Christians in the sense that most Americans would define themselves as Christians. Of my two maternal great grandmothers that I was able to know, one was a good Irish Catholic and the other belonged to a particularly conservative congregation of the Church of Christ. My paternal grandparents were both ELCA Lutherans and very active in their congregation.  For much of my teenage years and early 20s, I would have considered myself to be Lutheran and went to an ELCA-affiliated college for my undergraduate degree. 

Then I met my first serious boyfriend, Chris. He belonged to a very conservative non-denominational church. This wasn’t the liturgical tradition that I was used to. Instead of the traditional hymns of my youth, worship consisted of contemporary Christian songs. People danced. There was a different sort of energy than what I had been used to, and I was in. I saw the people around me with their level of excitement and passion. I wanted to feel that, so I dove right in. 

I was happy and fulfilled for quite a bit. Things in my relationship were good for the most part. I didn’t want to see that he was trying to mold me into the Christian and woman he thought I should be, more specifically he was trying to mold me into a specific person, his best female friend who would eventually become his wife. At first, it was easy to fit into what he wanted. I could shut out the contradictions between what I was now being told as what constitutes a “good Christian” and what I had come to believe through my own study of the Scripture and personal expression of faith. 

We were together for about two years. During that time, we mostly abstained from sex, and I was fine with that. There were occasions where we would slip. It was in those moments that cognitive dissonance began. Chris very much reinforced the idea that I was at fault for these lapses. I acted as a temptress and pulled him away from God. In those moments, he would begin to deny me emotional intimacy almost as punishment. I would begin to question my worth. These ideas of purity and really the responsibility that was placed upon me as a woman for maintaining the purity of the relationship caused a lot of personal pain. 

This added to a general lack of respect on Chris’ part in regards to my opinions and interpretations of the Scripture really put a bad taste in my mouth in regards to my place as a woman with the Christian faith. I wasn’t wanted as an equal partner and valued as myself. Challenging his own perceptions and ideas would lead to fights and arguments. I was really expected to lean on his understanding for guidance. I found that I lost myself. 

When the relationship ultimately ended, I couldn’t see the cause for the toxicity for what it really was: Chris' own issues with women and faith. I blamed the religion and faith instead of the person. It was then that I began to question everything that I believed up to that point. I was never comfortable go to the length to say that God didn’t exist. There was no proof that this true, and logic told me that a lack of proof of existence doesn’t necessarily equate to proof that something doesn’t exist. So I began to classify myself as an Agnostic. I was comfortable in saying that I just don’t know. 

It was easier for a time to be without faith. I didn’t have to struggle with the contradictions I saw in those who I knew to be religious; I could simply ignore them. My paternal grandmother had always lived by the philosophy that ultimately we were all here to make the world a little better than it was when we found it. Ultimately, our purpose on earth was to serve others. This philosophy came out of her Christian faith. Yet, my experience with Chris had been quite different. Instead of being lifted up, I felt held down. 

There are still a lot of contradictions that I wrestle with in terms of faith, but I’m no longer comfortable in the “I don’t know.” The truth is that I’ve always known that I believe in something greater than myself. Religion has been used as an excuse for hateful action for centuries. This doesn’t mean that the idea is bad. It’s just a sign of the corrupt world we live in. No matter what the ideology is, there will always be people that will use it for ill.

I'm keenly aware that sometimes being my kind of feminist seems to be in direct conflict with religious dogma. For example, I don't believe that I could ever have an abortion because of my own convictions; however, I would still consider myself to be pro-choice as I don't believe that I have the right to project my convictions on to someone else to make that difficult decision for them. It's the difference between personal and social norms. I don't believe that my personal faith or religious convictions should dictate what others do. I have a strong sense of secularism in government because if you begin to let religion into your government in a theocratic way then government must become involved in your religion. We've all know how this tends to go in the whole of human history.

I’m still working out what this means for me in terms of the expression of my faith, but I think that’s ok. It’s fine to question and seek answers. I suppose that we wouldn’t be given the ability to think critically if we were just supposed to follow along blindly.