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Fao Mikey4444 .... And Anyone Else Who Wants To Contribute
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Mikey, you said on another thread that you're an ex-Christian. I didn't want to hi-jack someone else's thread, so I'm asking separately - what prompted you to abandon the religion?
Same question to anyone else who has done similarly.
Same question to anyone else who has done similarly.
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Naomi...happy to oblige !
I was born in 1953, to a Northern Irish Catholic father and a English Catholic mother. I went to a Catholic Primary School, in North London. I was taught by a series of Nuns, Friars and ordinary teachers, and was brought up to believe that everybody that was Christian but not Catholic were, by default, Protestants. ( which I suppose is literally true ) As my father came from Belfast, there were no shades of grey about religion in our household...he was just as bigoted in his own way, as Paisley and other Protestants were. As we lived in England, I grew up with many non-Catholic friends, but if I and my brothers had been living in my dad's old village, it is unlikely that I would have known any Protestants, let alone been friends with them.
I was a good little Catholic boy, learned my Catechism and made my First Holy Communion at age 7 and was Confirmed aged 8. The whole family went to Mass every Sunday, without fail. Our family life revolved around the local Church. All in all, I have nothing to complain about all this....my childhood was happy and secure. Nothing "untoward" ever happened to me with a Priest, nor did I ever hear of anything happen to anyone else. The Clergy, especially the Franciscan Friars showed me nothing but kindness.
But when I was about 15 or 16, I started to question the central ethos of religion. Not unusual to be rebellious at that age of course, but I became more and more disillusioned with all that I had been taught. I realised that all religion depended on the irrational belief in illogical circumstances. I wasn't able to suspend my disbelief any longer and have been a committed Atheist ever since.
To put it bluntly, I now see that religion is just the same as the belief in fairies, goblins, witches and the Tooth Fairy. Some people may describe what happened to me was that I lost my faith, but I prefer to call it "coming to my senses" after a childhood's indoctrination.
I am not sure if all the above answers your question !
I was born in 1953, to a Northern Irish Catholic father and a English Catholic mother. I went to a Catholic Primary School, in North London. I was taught by a series of Nuns, Friars and ordinary teachers, and was brought up to believe that everybody that was Christian but not Catholic were, by default, Protestants. ( which I suppose is literally true ) As my father came from Belfast, there were no shades of grey about religion in our household...he was just as bigoted in his own way, as Paisley and other Protestants were. As we lived in England, I grew up with many non-Catholic friends, but if I and my brothers had been living in my dad's old village, it is unlikely that I would have known any Protestants, let alone been friends with them.
I was a good little Catholic boy, learned my Catechism and made my First Holy Communion at age 7 and was Confirmed aged 8. The whole family went to Mass every Sunday, without fail. Our family life revolved around the local Church. All in all, I have nothing to complain about all this....my childhood was happy and secure. Nothing "untoward" ever happened to me with a Priest, nor did I ever hear of anything happen to anyone else. The Clergy, especially the Franciscan Friars showed me nothing but kindness.
But when I was about 15 or 16, I started to question the central ethos of religion. Not unusual to be rebellious at that age of course, but I became more and more disillusioned with all that I had been taught. I realised that all religion depended on the irrational belief in illogical circumstances. I wasn't able to suspend my disbelief any longer and have been a committed Atheist ever since.
To put it bluntly, I now see that religion is just the same as the belief in fairies, goblins, witches and the Tooth Fairy. Some people may describe what happened to me was that I lost my faith, but I prefer to call it "coming to my senses" after a childhood's indoctrination.
I am not sure if all the above answers your question !
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Getting Real is what prompted me. Justice? Brotherhood? Eternal life? Good god, man. Show me a religion that prepares one for death. For nothingness. There's a church I might enter. Yours prepares one only for more life. For dreams and illusions and lies. If you could banish the fear of death from men's hearts they wouldnt live a day. Who would want this nightmare if not for fear of the next? The shadow of the axe hangs over every joy. Every road ends in death. Or worse. Every friendship. Every love. Torment, betrayal, loss, suffering, pain, age, indignity, and hideous lingering illness. All with a single conclusion. For you and for every one and everything that you have chosen to care for. There's the true brotherhood. The true fellowship. And everyone is a member for life. I wish that my death brings eternal end. Sleep forever with no dream of something else. (Life is not a dress rehearsal for a better place) Get busy living!
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two people wrote:
pixie373 - "... I was probably about 5 or 6 when i realised the stories the teachers were telling just didn't sound realistic at all and it scared me that these adults seemed to believe them..."
amazing insight at such a young age.....
considering I was counting iggy-piggy wu-wu and not much else
I look at young people and wonder if any of them
are like pixie
( or me I started remembering everything around the age of six )
and surreptitiously question them
and always get the answer:
iggy piggy wu-wu.... these people must be around but are pretty thin on the ground !
Oh one thing I will add about childhood memories which I have learnt from questioning them a few years later - the child hood memory has an emotional overlay which is laid down at the time of remembering and is related to the emotional state of the child at the time.
so when you get told, retold by the child, the emotion at the time colours the account.
pixie373 - "... I was probably about 5 or 6 when i realised the stories the teachers were telling just didn't sound realistic at all and it scared me that these adults seemed to believe them..."
amazing insight at such a young age.....
considering I was counting iggy-piggy wu-wu and not much else
I look at young people and wonder if any of them
are like pixie
( or me I started remembering everything around the age of six )
and surreptitiously question them
and always get the answer:
iggy piggy wu-wu.... these people must be around but are pretty thin on the ground !
Oh one thing I will add about childhood memories which I have learnt from questioning them a few years later - the child hood memory has an emotional overlay which is laid down at the time of remembering and is related to the emotional state of the child at the time.
so when you get told, retold by the child, the emotion at the time colours the account.
Almost the same history Mikey.
xc at skool there wasnt enough theology to go around and so the theologians had to teach us English. So we got taught English by famous people like Illtyd Trethowan and Joseph Rhymer.
Outside the school it was impressed on us how lucky we were and how unlucky they were. Outsiders would ask us ( and at 14 we didnt) do you realise how famous these people are ?
Luckily I got the message that I wouldnt meet many more like them in the future and I had better concentrate.
xc at skool there wasnt enough theology to go around and so the theologians had to teach us English. So we got taught English by famous people like Illtyd Trethowan and Joseph Rhymer.
Outside the school it was impressed on us how lucky we were and how unlucky they were. Outsiders would ask us ( and at 14 we didnt) do you realise how famous these people are ?
Luckily I got the message that I wouldnt meet many more like them in the future and I had better concentrate.
ratter// I played the cornet, I never touched it again after I left, shame really!//
Never to late to pick it up again.
I once knew a guy who was forced to play violin as a child. Hearing him play America's Horse With No Name as an adult was inspiring.
He said that as much as he hated being forced to do it as a child he was really glad because it had become one of his passions once he dropped the classical scores and played the music he related to.
Never to late to pick it up again.
I once knew a guy who was forced to play violin as a child. Hearing him play America's Horse With No Name as an adult was inspiring.
He said that as much as he hated being forced to do it as a child he was really glad because it had become one of his passions once he dropped the classical scores and played the music he related to.
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