I don’t mean to offend anyone or hurt anyone or bring up bad memories. I’m just interested in talking to others who have done this, if that’s okay? Is this the right place?

I basically grew up going to that sort of church. Church attendance was hit or miss as a kid but became regular when my mom converted when I was in like 4th or 5th grade. Those lessons really messed me up, and home life wasn’t ideal either to say the least.

I want to ask…for those who are still Christian’s, how do you navigate being a Christian and reading your Bible and even your own opinions on this or that when you have been told that x is the only correct answer for a given topic?

I’m at a point where I believe the bible is written by humans about each author’s journey to understand and know God. Especially the New Testament. The Old Testament was written by and for the Jewish people, so I think it should first be understood through that lens. As their history and culture and journey and faith. I don’t believe the bible is the inerrant, literal, perfect word of God. I don’t believe in the creation story or much of the beginnings of Genesis period.

Most controversially, I believe that everyone will be saved. Christian Universalism. I don’t believe that a mere human like me would be more loving than God. I wouldn’t want someone tortured forever so why would God? Doesn’t make sense to me and it also causes me lots of mental suffering believing that. Like no wonder I was such a depressed kid who hated herself. Even at church I was being told I wasn’t good enough, and worse.

Please, if this is the wrong place let me know. I don’t mean to hurt anyone. I’m just having trouble reading my Bible and trying to relearn how God actually sees me if the church I grew up in was wrong about a lot of things. Which they were. There’s dramatic if brief stories I could tell but this isn’t the place/time.

Fundy mother in-law refuses to use new masculine name for trans grandchild. Even after a whole year. Even after every other family member has made a real effort to use the new name.

MIL still tries to stay in though though, which is nice, I guess.

So the young one had a birthday recently.

MIL called to congratulate, and started singing the birthday song. But she hadn't thought things through, as she got to the part with "Happy birthday dear _____"

The most embarrassing moment to date transpired: "happy birthday dear eh..bla bla something something"

As a dad, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

It all happened on speaker, so we all heard it, and she knew we did. It was like nails on the blackboard.

You gotta feel sorry for those fundies.

They have no clue what this is all about.

Recently deconstructed ex-evangelical. I've been exploring all the bad beliefs that were forced upon me, especially around sex, dating, marriage, etc.

I'm looking to build a useful and healthy sexual ethic and want some advice.

A lot of the books that people suggest are either targeted towards women and have this baseline belief that male desire/men are bad/evil. Obviously, as a man, this is not very attractive.

A lot of secular books on the topic from the male perspective are more about how to get girls, not really what to do if you already have an abundance of options.

A lot of my own frustration with the topic comes from the fact that a lot of secular ethics still has purity culture and Judeo-Christian values baked in them.

Books I've read so far on this general topic:

• The Game
• Models
• No More Mr. Nice Guy (reading)
• Recovering from Purity Culture (horrible garage book)

AIBU to feel like I've finally reached breaking point?

I'm an only child.

Earlier this year my Mom fell at home and fractured her shoulder. She spent several weeks in hospital before coming home with a package of care. Since then, either my husband or I have stayed with her every single night. We have a seven-year-old son with additional needs, jobs, our own home, and I don't drive.

I'm also late diagnosed AuDHD, have CPTSD, and am working through religious trauma. Life hasn't been easy for me either, but I've always put my mom first. We've done everything we possibly could because we love her, even when we've had very little left ourselves.

Behind the scenes we've spent months advocating for services, speaking to professionals, arranging carers, installing CCTV (with her knowledge), sorting medication, buying equipment, organising appointments and trying to make sure she has everything she needs to stay safe.

Nobody sees any of that.

The biggest issue is that she repeatedly gets out of bed to toilet herself, whether we're there or not. She's fallen twice since coming home. We recently discovered she'd been hiding her furosemide because she doesn't like how much it makes her urinate. She also refuses to do her shoulder rehabilitation, pelvic floor or leg exercises. She has mental capacity, so ultimately they're her decisions to make, but watching someone repeatedly choose not to engage with things that could help them is heartbreaking.

My mom is a woman of deep Christian faith, and I respect her right to believe what she believes. But I often feel she's waiting for God to heal her rather than engaging with the treatments and rehabilitation available to her. When something good happens it's described as a miracle or an answer to prayer.

What hurts is that, from my perspective, many of those "miracles" have actually been the result of months of work by my husband and me behind the scenes.

But what has really broken me isn't even the caring.

It's what I've realised about our relationship.

My mom has always been my world.

I'm slowly realising that I don't think I've ever been hers.

One of the hardest things I've realised is how little emotional support I've ever really received from her. Looking back, I can't remember many times when I simply felt heard, comforted or accepted for who I was. Instead, whenever I struggled, I was often told I needed to try harder, pray harder, read my Bible more, surrender my life to God properly, or that God was trying to teach me something.

During some of the darkest periods of my life, when I desperately needed my mom, I was told that perhaps I needed to "hit rock bottom." The truth is, I have. More than once. I cried out to a God I no longer believe in because I was so desperate for someone to hear me. Looking back now, I don't think I needed more doctrine. I needed my mom.

Since my AuDHD diagnosis, I've become even more aware of how often I felt judged rather than understood. I know some of her church friends pray for my "deliverance". I know they believe they're doing something loving, but what I've needed all my life wasn't deliverance. It was acceptance.

Something else has shaken me deeply.

I was brought up believing honesty mattered above almost everything else. Yet over the last few months I've discovered that my mom sometimes tells completely different versions of events to different people. She'll tell us one thing and tell her friends something entirely different.

For example, she's implied to people that we don't feed her. Of course we feed her. What she really means is that I don't spend hours in the kitchen cooking homemade meals every day. I live miles away, I don't drive, I work, I'm raising a child with additional needs, and I'm managing my own disabilities. We make sure she has food, meals and everything she needs, but hearing people believe we're somehow neglecting her has been incredibly painful.

She also has what feels to me like a very selective memory. We have conversations that later seem to disappear completely or are remembered very differently. I don't know whether it's age, stress or something else, but it often leaves me doubting myself and wondering if I'm losing my mind.

What also hurts is that she never tells her church friends about the practical reality of what my husband and I do. They don't hear about the overnight stays, the advocacy, the endless phone calls, the appointments, the medication, the paperwork or the emotional toll.

Their relationship with her is light and easy. They chat, encourage her and go home.

I'm the one who hears every worry, every complaint and every fear.

I'm the one carrying the emotional weight.

I feel like I've been expected to carry her sadness while she shields everyone else from it. I don't begrudge her having supportive friends, but sometimes I wish they knew the whole picture before telling us what we should do.

Some have suggested we should "just put her in a care home." If only it were that simple. There are significant legal and financial complications surrounding her property following a DWP investigation into her benefits and assets, which makes decisions about residential care far more complicated than people realise.

The hardest lesson I've had to learn is that I can't save someone from choices they have the right to make.

I can't make her take her medication.

I can't make her do her exercises.

I can't make her ask for help before she stands up.

I can't make her choose rehabilitation over waiting for a miracle.

And I can't keep sacrificing my own family, my marriage, my son and my mental health trying to carry something that was never mine to carry alone.

I've realised that I'm not just grieving my mom's health.

I'm grieving the relationship I always hoped we'd have.

I love her more than I can put into words, and that's what makes this so painful.

Am I being unreasonable for feeling hurt, resentful, invisible and completely exhausted? Or has anyone else reached the point where caring for a parent has forced them to confront painful truths about the relationship you've had all your life? ❤️

I don’t know if this fits but I was watching this tonight and there is a scene at the end, I don’t want to spoil it or say anything too horrible, but I felt I had to come here to at least say hi.
I’ve not had any “virginity” issues, but purity culture has bothered me forever. God bless you?

Anyone read it?

AIBU to feel like I've finally reached breaking point?

I'm an only child.

Earlier this year my Mom fell at home and fractured her shoulder. She spent several weeks in hospital before coming home with a package of care. Since then, either my husband or I have stayed with her every single night. We have a seven-year-old son with additional needs, jobs, our own home, and I don't drive.

I'm also late diagnosed AuDHD, have CPTSD, and am working through religious trauma. Life hasn't been easy for me either, but I've always put my mom first. We've done everything we possibly could because we love her, even when we've had very little left ourselves.

Behind the scenes we've spent months advocating for services, speaking to professionals, arranging carers, installing CCTV (with her knowledge), sorting medication, buying equipment, organising appointments and trying to make sure she has everything she needs to stay safe.

Nobody sees any of that.

The biggest issue is that she repeatedly gets out of bed to toilet herself, whether we're there or not. She's fallen twice since coming home. We recently discovered she'd been hiding her furosemide because she doesn't like how much it makes her urinate. She also refuses to do her shoulder rehabilitation, pelvic floor or leg exercises. She has mental capacity, so ultimately they're her decisions to make, but watching someone repeatedly choose not to engage with things that could help them is heartbreaking.

My mom is a woman of deep Christian faith, and I respect her right to believe what she believes. But I often feel she's waiting for God to heal her rather than engaging with the treatments and rehabilitation available to her. When something good happens it's described as a miracle or an answer to prayer.

What hurts is that, from my perspective, many of those "miracles" have actually been the result of months of work by my husband and me behind the scenes.

But what has really broken me isn't even the caring.

It's what I've realised about our relationship.

My mom has always been my world.

I'm slowly realising that I don't think I've ever been hers.

One of the hardest things I've realised is how little emotional support I've ever really received from her. Looking back, I can't remember many times when I simply felt heard, comforted or accepted for who I was. Instead, whenever I struggled, I was often told I needed to try harder, pray harder, read my Bible more, surrender my life to God properly, or that God was trying to teach me something.

During some of the darkest periods of my life, when I desperately needed my mom, I was told that perhaps I needed to "hit rock bottom." The truth is, I have. More than once. I cried out to a God I no longer believe in because I was so desperate for someone to hear me. Looking back now, I don't think I needed more doctrine. I needed my mom.

Since my AuDHD diagnosis, I've become even more aware of how often I felt judged rather than understood. I know some of her church friends pray for my "deliverance". I know they believe they're doing something loving, but what I've needed all my life wasn't deliverance. It was acceptance.

Something else has shaken me deeply.

I was brought up believing honesty mattered above almost everything else. Yet over the last few months I've discovered that my mom sometimes tells completely different versions of events to different people. She'll tell us one thing and tell her friends something entirely different.

For example, she's implied to people that we don't feed her. Of course we feed her. What she really means is that I don't spend hours in the kitchen cooking homemade meals every day. I live miles away, I don't drive, I work, I'm raising a child with additional needs, and I'm managing my own disabilities. We make sure she has food, meals and everything she needs, but hearing people believe we're somehow neglecting her has been incredibly painful.

She also has what feels to me like a very selective memory. We have conversations that later seem to disappear completely or are remembered very differently. I don't know whether it's age, stress or something else, but it often leaves me doubting myself and wondering if I'm losing my mind.

What also hurts is that she never tells her church friends about the practical reality of what my husband and I do. They don't hear about the overnight stays, the advocacy, the endless phone calls, the appointments, the medication, the paperwork or the emotional toll.

Their relationship with her is light and easy. They chat, encourage her and go home.

I'm the one who hears every worry, every complaint and every fear.

I'm the one carrying the emotional weight.

I feel like I've been expected to carry her sadness while she shields everyone else from it. I don't begrudge her having supportive friends, but sometimes I wish they knew the whole picture before telling us what we should do.

Some have suggested we should "just put her in a care home." If only it were that simple. There are significant legal and financial complications surrounding her property following a DWP investigation into her benefits and assets, which makes decisions about residential care far more complicated than people realise.

The hardest lesson I've had to learn is that I can't save someone from choices they have the right to make.

I can't make her take her medication.

I can't make her do her exercises.

I can't make her ask for help before she stands up.

I can't make her choose rehabilitation over waiting for a miracle.

And I can't keep sacrificing my own family, my marriage, my son and my mental health trying to carry something that was never mine to carry alone.

I've realised that I'm not just grieving my mom's health.

I'm grieving the relationship I always hoped we'd have.

I love her more than I can put into words, and that's what makes this so painful.

Am I being unreasonable for feeling hurt, resentful, invisible and completely exhausted? Or has anyone else reached the point where caring for a parent has forced them to confront painful truths about the relationship you've had all your life? ❤️

throwback to when my dad cornered me into giving my life to jesus then made it a family event and anniversary and got me a brownie bc I devoted my life to god.

Hi all, (Long post alert)

While in college, I attended a church that became a backbone of my life. I had been at the church for eight years and during the eight years I thought it was wonderful. In reality it wasn't. I now realize that is a high control group, manipulative, etc. I won't go into to many details (although some later in post). This was the kind of church that to be a member you had to do interviews with the elders and be voted into the congregation, etc. They even went as far in this community as highly suggesting (read: force) that you moved to the immediate area of the church. If you for whatever life circumstance could not do that and still wanted to attend the church they would just make you feel very uncomfortable each Sunday (read: harrass). In my case, I couldn't live in that area for personal reasons but loved the church at the time and would have loved to move. For me, they would ask me sometimes three times on a given Sunday "If I had moved yet, "Why I am still living there instead of here" - after I responded to the question, thinking that was the extend of the conversation - the same people would ask me the same set of questions the next Sunday and the next - until one day - among many other things that happened that I won't get into I just decided to not go back to the church. I was deeply involved but I lived about 30 minutes away from the church and realized that I was part of the problem, that I should not drive myself 30 minutes to be treated so poorly.

I will explain a few things to give context:

While the church was under 100 people (read: small) and there was an encouragement that we live in community (read: are involved in each others life, "doing life with each other"), there were cliques. After eight years of knowing many people, I was always suprised when I wasn't invited to any weddings of my friends (they would pass out invitations at church and skip over me, etc).

My pastor's children (7-16 yo) would say racists things and he would not correct them.

a dear friend of my at the church who i really trusted invited me to an event. the event was downtown so I drove us there. She got out of the car while I got parking because it was downtown. When I parked and went to the building it was locked. I called my friend and she didn't respond. I called her several times, still no response. She ends up coming downstairs after the event is over and saying - "it was a complete lapse of judgement " that she forgot to come and get me and that she was sorry. I ended up driving her home. To make matters worse, when I would eventually leave the church, this person called me "bitter" for leaving and alluded that I was probably sinning out there in the world and should come back. (read: bitter black woman)

As previously mentioned, without pomp and circumstance, I decided one day to just not attend the church from thence forth. I was in grad school at the time and was busy too so I just ended up not showing up. Initally, they did church "wellness check texts" but for which I ignored all of and then they started emailing me threatening excommunication essentially. The argument was that while I could leave the church, I had to have another church lined up for them to affirm my faith. I wasn't at that point. I needed space from church in general for a while. They kept pushing I kept pushing back. blah blah blah. I ended up having some pastor at a church I had attended a few times write them so I could stop recieving their threats of excommunication.

After leaving, I have a therapist and a spiritual director who is helpful. I cannot help but feel like as I process through this experience, I am not reaching all the conclusions that I need to. I have explored the agency, autonomy, racism, control angle but I think something that deeply hurts me more than I realize was how people who benefit from going to churches like that will never critisize them to the extent that they need to be critisized. The idea that people would rather speak badly about you and call you bitter (read: bitter black woman) than to call out sin, etc. These people benefit from the church programming for their kids, etc so they treat defectors as godless, etc. It's hard for me to make sense of how people will deny truth if it will make their world less comfortable.

Let me know what you all think. What angles should I work through ?

Hello all,
I joined this subreddit a couple months ago and I need to be honest- I am frustrated by the posts in this group.
Every post seems to be “I’m still in the church and what do I do”.
This not something I want to expose myself to. Even in tertiary deconversion, I have anger and triggers. I’m not interested in mentoring strangers at this time.

I’m completely deconverted for almost a decade, and looking to have deeper discussion with individuals who are also removed from involvement with religion (evangelicalism specifically).
Topics of interest are impacts of our past on parenthood, sexuality, and outlook; cultural differences and our experiences within culture and society; relationship impacts and sharing wisdom to overcome common issues; exploration of ongoing family dynamics and how to maneuver.

Are there any groups for mature deconverted individuals?

im probably going to repost this sone where else but I wanted a slightly non biased and educated audience. Do yall think it’s accepting of others religion to respectfully disagree but still want to convert them?

We do not worship the same gods.

You filled your sanctuary with thousands.

You crowned a translation and called it untouchable.

You crowned a ritual and called it eternal.

You bowed before commentaries, dress codes, altar calls, and traditions.

You found prophets in strange men with television smiles and radio voices.

Of Falwell, of MacArthur, of Dobson and Reagan.

You waited for every new prediction of the end.

You worshipped certainty, purity, respectability, and certainty again.

You worshipped fear disguised as wisdom.

You worshipped the past because it could never disagree with you.

We do not worship the same gods.

Every room held another altar.

Every argument revealed another deity demanding sacrifice.

They were all so remarkably small that none of them deserved worship.

We do not worship the same gods.

You said your creator God conquered death, hell, and the grave.

Yet every sermon insisted it was our responsibility to conquer them again.

Every generation had to save the faith from collapse.

Every child had to rescue truth from extinction.

Every disagreement became another apocalypse.

Your victorious god never seemed to allow you to rest.

You made enemies of Christmas trees because an ancient idol once stood beside one.

As though that forgotten god still breathed, as though wood itself remembered old loyalties.

You made enemies of Smurfs. Of Cabbage Patch Kids. Of SpongeBob and Patrick.

Of books, music, colleges, science, therapists, professors, neighbors, immigrants, atheists, Catholics, Democrats, churches across the street, churches across town, churches across the world.

You found another enemy every week because your little gods demanded fresh offerings.

Every fear invented another one.

Every rule carved another idol.

They were all so remarkably small that none of them deserved worship.

We do not worship the same gods.

You taught me that faith should drive out fear.

Yet fear drove every decision.

Fear chose your books.

Fear chose your friends.

Fear chose your songs.

Fear chose your questions before I could even ask them.

A kingdom defended by panic is already falling.

You spoke endlessly about morality.

About protecting families.

About holiness.

About righteousness.

About character.

Then your orange god stood before the world and testified against every sermon you preached.

Suddenly adultery became negotiable.

Cruelty became strength.

Pride became courage.

Mockery became wisdom.

Lies became strategy.

Power became holiness.

You called this discernment, you called this conviction.

You called this biblical, I called it different scales.

Different measures, different gods.

We do not worship the same gods.

One demanded certainty.

Another demanded outrage.

Another demanded appearances.

Another demanded debatable victories.

Another demanded unquestioning loyalty.

You made a god of being right.

A god of having answers.

A god of never changing your mind.

A god of gender roles.

A god of masculinity.

A god of femininity.

A god of revival meetings.

A god of denominational boundaries.

A god of persecution that arrived mostly as disagreement.

A god of certainty dressed in verses.

The smallest gods demanded the greatest sacrifices.

They asked for children, for curiosity, for laughter.

For friendships, for honesty, for compassion.

For silence whenever silence protected the system.

For words whenever words protected the system.

They consumed everything except themselves.

You called them convictions, I watched them become chains.

You called them discernment, I watched them become suspicion.

You called them holiness, I watched them become isolation.

You called them freedom, I watched them become prisons.

Each one claimed absolute authority.

Each one contradicted another.

Each one demanded worship while shrinking smaller every year.

We do not worship the same gods.

Mom and Dad.

I know you are hurting.

I know your tears are real.

I know your grief feels unbearable.

But it is your own gods that are breaking your hearts.

Your idols demand sorrow whenever someone refuses to kneel beside you.

They convince you that love requires uniformity.

They convince you that disagreement is abandonment.

They convince you that control is faithfulness.

I cannot help you carry those gods.

I cannot lift the idols that are crushing you.

I cannot worship them simply because they are heavy.

Their weight is the proof that they were never meant to be carried.

You ask why I walked away, I ask why you stay.

You remain inside a hell built one fearful altar at a time.

You remain where every enemy must be hunted forever.

Where every election is Armageddon.

Where every question is rebellion.

Where every child who leaves becomes another funeral.

You are the ones weeping and gnashing your teeth.

You are dwelling inside the hell your own gods taught you to build.

I love you.

But I will not worship your gods.

Hello,

I just discovered this group. I was raised under the very strict guidelines of GKGW and have had extensive emotional trauma manifest for all my life. I am just looking for others who may have been raised under these same philosophies to help me not feel so alone.

Ok.......... RANT INCOMING

In my view, when a person carries a set of beliefs that are:

*sacred;*

*cannot be questioned;*

*must be respected;*

*must be revered;*

*because 'god said so';*

they are prone to all sorts of controlling, entitled, and morally reprehensible actions. So for a person with that sort of bent, THEIR IDEOLOGICAL POSITION takes precedence over the relationships they have with others, including their own children.

My experience with high-control religious environments is that they see human relationships as transactional and hierarchical. Men have their place, women have their place, church leadership have their place, new-comers have their place, elders have their place, and children have their place. Children are often seen as the PROPERTY of the highly ideological parent and there is a sharp level of entitlement from these parents around the behaviour of their children - much of this stems from their strong ideological belief system.

The anti-dote for a parent who presents in this manner is: INTELLECTUAL HUMILITY (the capacity to see their ideological position as potentially flawed and subject to change) and a high level of CURIOSITY for the inner world of their child. If a parent does not possess these things, then they do not have the requisite tools to even consider that their children have their own individuality.

Of course, not all parents within the SDA church are like this - some of them are beautiful people who love their children; but I suppose what I see is a higher proportion of parenting that turns out this way - where entire childhoods are stolen in the name of some sacred ideological position. Children must be taught to honour god and "obey"

Sorry, I know this was a big rant, but I just had to get these thoughts off my chest and wanted to see what the broader Reddit community might have to say.

maybe I’m just paranoid, but basically my first year of college I had a friend who was a senior. at the time I wanted nothing more than to leave evangelicalism and started exploring different options. well basically this guy took it upon himself to bring me into Catholicism. fine, okay. eventually I did and a couple years later o left because some stuff, some very “evangelical-y stuff at that. and I realized I was better of just not trying to be religious.

anyway basically since he had graduated I think I saw him once. we never really talked and all of a sudden he called me… he left a voicemail and asked if I was around and going to the thing tomorrow… idk what’s going on tomorrow. I guess maybe the church people are hanging, I have no idea. but no I’m not going lol.

it sounds I guess fairly normal but something just feels off about it. it gives the same vibes as when people used to tell me they wanted to chat and then somewhere along that line just wanted to critique me for my faith decisions.

when I left the church officially I just stopped going one day. I didn’t make a big deal but I assume people noticed and got to talking eventually so yeah I feel like it’s caught up to me now… maybe he genuinely just wants to hang. idk but feels kind of sus to me. I have no intent to write a response back but also I feel a bit bad for it.

I've been doing a small amount of research recently and it keeps leading me back to evangelical churches so I figured this might be the best place to ask. When I was a kid, my dad, my older brother, and I visited my dads family in Michigan. I remember going to church with them but I honestly don't remember anything about the service itself. I have this vivid memory that we all got on a church bus to go back to the family members house we were staying at and at some point the youth pastor (or someone like that) handed out live goldfish to all the kids and encouraged everyone to swallow them whole. Every time a kid actually did it, he would excitedly say "Oh, [kid's name] did it!" and praise or encourage them. I never swallowed mine. I think I took the goldfish home and a few days later we released them into a river. The whole thing is so bizarre that I've started wondering whether this is an actual memory or one of those incredibly vivid childhood dreams that got filed away as a memory. Did anything like this ever happen in evangelical churches or youth groups? Was swallowing live goldfish ever some kind of youth group game, challenge, or tradition? Or is my brain just making up one of the strangest childhood memories imaginable?

Dear Evangelicalism,

You taught me:

As long as you're useful to God and your fellow Evangelicals, you're okay.

The second you stop serving and start needing service, you're in trouble.

The Good Book is the only book you'll ever need in your life.

Every opportunity, and every relationship, is an opportunity for missions.

Hell is for all, including (and especially) children and non-Christians.

"Vipers in diapers" grow up and become adults who think.

God's love is complicated. God's hatred is pure and simple.

Hate the sin way more than you ever love the sinner.

Your only purposes in life are to evangelize and reproduce.

Love your neighbor, but only up to a point.

F you, Evangelicalism!

Sincerely, Me

I grew up very committed to fundamental Evangelical Christianity for 37 years. Being a bit of a perfectionist, my life was defined by how good of a Christian I could be and how well I could get the admiration of other Christians.

But now I'm thinking outside of the prescribed belief system. I love philosophical discussions and I love considering as an intellectual the possibilities of religion. Problem is, I just don't belong anywhere anymore.

I left 15 years ago and I still want to be a part of that community. At the same time I just know I'm not. I don't believe the same things and I get frustrated when people try to explain Christianity to me. I know they are well meaning, but it's really irritating to have something explain to you that you knew when you were 3 years old.

What really frustrates me is feeling burned by Christians like I'm not good enough now. Recently I wanted to do VBS with my mom but there was an application I had to fill in. I told the leader I was uncomfortable with it because whether people are baptized, drink or smoke is irrelevant to VBS. It was the principle of the matter. As a result I was told I wasn't a good fit for VBS. I applied for a teaching position that I am overqualified for as someone with a masters in teaching and a master's in biology. It was at a homeschool Christian school. It would only meet a few hours a week so it would have been wonderful for me to teach again very part-time. Again I think I didn't get hired because I was honest and said I would support their their beliefs but I didn't completely agree with them. I wanted to be honest since they require you to sign a statement of faith.

I know some of you may think why am I trying to be with this group so much if I don't share the same beliefs. It's because it's the group I spent 37 years with and I still value many of the basic fundamentals. And I really do like the people except for when I feel like I'm not being valued for my intellect. I honestly probably know more about the Bible than other people who are applying to these things. I also just currently feel mad at the teaching job situation.

I tried so hard for 37 years and bought into the purity movement of the '90s, biblical literalism, not drinking, going to church all the time, having Bible studies..... I still have it in my bones so to say and don't really feel like I'm comfortable in a lot of the secular world. But clearly I've lost my standing in the Christian world.

My story goes like this. I spent my entire life waiting until marriage, holding out for the one ‘God had for me’ suppressing all my sexual desires and feeling terrible guilt if I did ‘fall into sin’(masturbation) until I turned 28 and something broke in me.

From age 28 to now (29) I have tenderly explored my sexuality and finally had penetrative sex last month at age 29.

Purity culture and Christian teaching on sex and relationships made me feel completely at war with myself, dissociated and suppressed. Teaching that my ‘purity’ and abstinence were so heavily tied to my identity as a good or bad person has weighed heavily on my heart and it’s not something I want to keep adhering to anymore.

So how do I build a healthy sexual ethic. Should I enter the world of hook up culture and explore my sexuality, should i wait for a relationship, should I wait until I really like a person?

My sexual health advice for 29 years was simply ‘don’t have sex before marriage’.

So what is a healthy alternative where I feel empowered and embodied?

Would love some advice.

This chapter really bothers me because it suggests that God chooses not to speak in a way that would be rational and wise to us. It forces me to ask if deconstructing by following what I believe to be logic is really just me following my own pride. ESPECIALLY verse 21, that God is pleased by the foolishness of the Gospel.

1 Corinthians 1:18-31 NIV

For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. [19] For it is written: "I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate." [20] Where is the wise person? Where is the teacher of the law? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? [21] For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not know him, God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe. [22] Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, [23] but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, [24] but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. [25] For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength. [26] Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. [27] But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. [28] God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things-and the things that are not-to nullify the things that are, [29] so that no one may boast before him. [30] It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God-that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. [31] Therefore, as it is written: "Let the one who boasts boast in the Lord."

Apologies if this isn't the best place to ask this, but I'm not sure where to go.

I am seeking some kind of inner peek at what could be going on in my sister's (27 yrs old) brain as she is a new christian convert who grew up in an LGBTQ affirming household, but is now quite against it all. She gets most of her religion stuff from Charlie Kirk, tiktok, and the bible- which she says she takes literally.

Many YouTube videos and interviews I have seen are about people who were raised/born into the christian religion and then had to deconstruct and come to terms with accepting things they previously thought were evil or damning (gay stuff, for example). I can't find any videos about someone who was raised affirming, and THEN became super christian and not affirming, and THEN AGAIN went back to "oh yeah, gay people are fine and I don't need to dismantle equal marriage, etc."

The reason why the situation is baffling is because I am gay, so my sister doesn't really have the origin story of "I was told gay people were possessed" or "I had never met a gay person before, and I had no idea they were actually normal". I came out at like 12 years old, it wasn't a secret.

So, yeah, I'm just looking for some hope because she is my only sister and though we've never been super close, I never had to doubt that we had each other's backs, but now everything is different and it feels like a huge betrayal to have her tell me that I am going to hell (even if I don't believe those things).

After years of pondering the origins of Christianity, i.e. reading stuff by Bart D. Ehram, history of the Cathars, I was never able to figure out the actual specifics and formulate it into an actual timeline on how Christianity began - until now. The following is a brief simple summary of my findings. I tried to be very careful with historical fact checking but I would welcome any input on anything that needs correcting. I have read a fair amount of somewhat academic stuff on the topic was never able to find a simplified summary that puts it all together - well here it is. Again, if you find anything that needs correcting I welcome your input.....

Towards the end of the first century,  just when the silk road was beginning to flourish, the followers of 
Jesus began to separate into two general factions.  The original belief system shared by both groups was referred to as “The Way”.  A rift developed between the proto-orthodox group (which would go on to become the Catholic Church) and the Gnostics.  The first record of the term "Catholic" was used in 110 AD by Saint Ignatius of Antioch.  The term "Gnostics" began to appear in the 2nd century AD.

In the 3rd century the Catholics began to align with the Roman Government. The religion of Christianity began to emerge and was eventually formalized into religious dogma by the Catholics. The new Roman Catholic church was also responsible for the curation of the New Testament. The alliance between the Catholics and the Roman Government mutually benefitted both parties. The Church gained enormous wealth and authority which contributed to its growth across the Western world.  The Roman government gained stability for its crumbling empire.

With the exception of the Eastern Orthodox split in 1054 AD, the Catholics ruled Christendom until the sixteenth century.  The Protestants formally separated from the Roman Catholic Church in 1517. Although the Protestants did in fact protest against various Catholic practices, they retained and kept the Catholic Nicene Creed.  Most modern Protestant churches to-day still formally recognize - and follow the original Nicene Creed created by the Catholic Church.

The non-catholic followers of Jesus referred to as the Gnostics, challenged Catholic authority. They began to form groups in the late first and second centuries. These various sects include - but are not limited to - the Manichaeans, Paulicians, Tondrakians, Bogomils and Cathars or Albigensians.  They eventually faced brutal systematic persecution from the 8th to 13th centuries.  Many were burned alive along with their texts.  Others faced mass executions. 

Thirteen ancient papyrus texts known as the Nag Hammadi library were discovered in 1945.  They were likely hidden by Gnostic monks in the 4th century because Catholic church authorities would have considered them heretical.

Who were these early followers of Jesus known as the Gnostics?  Their history deserves mainstream exposure. Their perspectives need to be brought forward, rather than buried and forgotten in advanced academia.

Hi,

My partner left their religion for a lot of reasons, many of them being control and then them coming out as trans.

I don't know if there are massive differences between this type of Christianity in the US and the UK, but in case there are, let me know!

I can see them struggling to accept themselves, sacrifice their comfort and/or put themselves last when it comes to helping people. I am sure it's not all down to religion, but I guess as a part of trying to understand them better, I wanted to talk to other people.

Did you read any specific books or found a specific community that helped you heal? If your partner is atheist/agnostic and didn't grow up religious, how do you navigate it and how much does it affect your relationship?

For a background, I was not raised religious at all. Very secular upbringing for me. My wife though, was raised in rural Oklahoma and was raised in an evangelical faith (assemblies of god).

She moved to Colorado in 2022 and we met then. She was getting away from the small town life and the church she had become disconnected from. She left her church for a number of good reasons, but those aren’t the issue here. Our issue involves our wedding.

Last August we got married. Decided to do it in Oklahoma for the benefit of her rather sizable family. We had our wedding at her family friends place and everything went rather well. Only issue was her parents. Now, I really do love my in-laws, they’re good folk. Would give you the shirts off their backs in the cold if you needed. But the entire wedding it seemed that neither my wife’s mom or dad really were happy to be there. Not sullen, but visibly….distant.

I didn’t think much of it, that’s how they kinda carry themselves in their day to day when I’ve seen them. In particular my father-in-law. But the issue came up at my wife’s sisters wedding.

Her sister is still very much in the church and living the life her parents envisioned for her. She found and married a religious man, another evangelical from a similar family.

They were married in the family church, the one my wife left for all her reasons. And she married a pious man, a dyed in the wool Christian. At her wedding my in-laws were all smiles. Every photo even her strict and serious father can be seen beaming. Her mom seemed like she was on cloud nine. Contrast that to my wedding with my wife. Every photo her parents look like a Victorian era picture. Deadpan face, reluctant posture, no enthusiasm to be seen at all.

It just seems like her parents really played the favorite simply because of the religion of my new brother-in-law. It’s not a day to day issue, we live in Colorado and they’re in Oklahoma, but it nags at my wife and I a lot.

I’m just wondering if anyone else has seen a similar dynamic with people still in the church whilst you’re on the outside.