On Faith: From pensive to fulfilled

I'll end this blog with my Baptism, a really wonderful event that happened yesterday. It's suitable since it also marks an incredible transition from a pensive, unsure faith to one that is solid, strong, and - despite my best efforts to misunderstand as much as possible - growing with a heartwarming speed.

If you would like to review God's work in my life over the last 5 months then you can scroll down to the bottom of this page and read upwards in chronological order. I'll finish my last post with the testimony that I wrote for the Baptismal service.

If you would like to chat or ask any questions, feel free to email me.

This baptism marks the beginning of an amazing journey for me. Already so much has changed that I feel like a very different person to who I was 5 months ago. With this baptism I submit to God, and give him joyful thanks for the incredible things he has done in my life. This testimony is about him, and how he found it in his incredible kindness to let me know his son, Jesus. Praise be to him for calling even the most hardened of hearts.

At the end of last year I was an Atheist, and any image of God I did have was skewed to fit my own perspective. Like lots of people I developed a set of beliefs that left me feeling morally vindicated and comfortable with the world. I had absolutely no wish to investigate the Bible, let alone step foot in a Church. Both were relics to me, and I had found my support in other places. I had never thought of Jesus, and couldn't for a moment understand why people put their faith in him.

Then, over the course of about a week, everything changed. Like a tornado that somehow pinpoints a leaf on the ground, God rushed through my life and settled me in a place that was completely foreign. With astonishing speed, he worked in my heart and demolished the strongholds of my intellectual and emotional objections to faith. Barriers that had been in place for years fell away, and my heart was finally pointing at someone who could look after it.

I thank God so much for his patience with me, the kindness he has shown in his grace. Truly he has pulled me up from a quagmire, and I'm left standing, with nothing to give but my thanks and love. There are so many elegant solutions for living in a swamp, I had no idea there was an option to leave. Through Jesus, God gave me an olive branch to be saved, then knowing that wouldn't be enough, he gave my hands the strength to grip and my arms the strength to lift.

Every day I come to know and love Jesus more, and experiencing Christ growing in me has been both a joyful and startling experience. It has touched every part of my life, and even now I feel God working in me daily; challenging me, weeding out the bad and planting the good. He has given me deep roots of faith and changed parts of my heart I never thought could be reached.

As I am baptised, I disregard the infinite universe with me at its center, and welcome fully, with all my heart, the infinite God who has adopted me as one of his children. Thank you so much Jesus for opening the floodgates and allowing me to come home to you

On The Holy Spirit: Clarity

When the Holy Spirit works through me it is quite a specific and identifiable experience, which is a surprise because I used to thoroughly believe it could be explained away by suggestion and persuasion. In actual fact it's disconcerting in its uniqueness, like having never known water and then being splashed in the face by God.

It's so rare that i genuinely experience a new feeling that when a one comes along it's normally confusing, difficult to quantify. This isn't though, and I think it's because the purpose is so tangible. When I perceive the Holy Spirit it's like a dramatic and sudden clarity, momentarily blowing away the clouds and giving me a glimpse at my relationship with God. So far these glimpses have been startling, a gust of wind that pushes me back from my previous direction and helps me reconsider where im going.

On Empathy: Jesus' love

Jesus lit a candle in my life. I was thankful, but not overjoyed. In the Biblical sense I understood that I needed him, but at the end of the day if he was wrong then all I'd lost was time. I had "everything to gain, and nothing to lose", as it goes. I approved of that phrase, it fitted into my life; an off-white motto in a journey of vibrant greys. I may as well commit to Jesus, at best it's true, at worst it's a life spent with more guilt than I'd like.

It's bloody difficult to appreciate redemption when life is so comfortable. I feel like I was given a candle of salvation, but in the dull afternoon it was only really visible if I squinted. Two days ago I suppose my heart was taking a leisurely stroll when quite rudely the grey mist was lifted. I listened to a prisoner on tele recount the awful ways he abused his captives, and my heart broke. Not in some special Christian understanding of suffering, but a torrent of real, terrible sorrow. Sorrow, at it's strongest, breaks my heart in two, and is reserved for the people I love. As I thought of his victim it was incredibly unsettling to feel such agony for someone I didn't know. She was a person, and for the first time that mattered enough for the story to sink my heart.

I've realised that in accepting Jesus' love I also accepted his suffering. The most painful thing I can do in this world is open myself up, and yet that's what love requires. Loving with an open heart is like releasing a delicate paper kite into a tornado. It was only later on in the evening that I realised I had stumbled upon a place of overwhelming darkness, and the candle I thought so puny in the afternoon haze was now producing a brilliant, guiding light.

In the increased understanding of how important Jesus' guidance can be, I realised the adage I once held dear may not make sense at all. The same tornado I released my heart into also blew away my comfortable house of agnosticism, and without an understanding of Jesus' love I would be left stranded. My ties to an ignorant world of pleasantly distant suffering are being severed, and growing in me is a relationship that actually seems to encompass everyone. God sent Jesus down to show us what unconditional love looks like, and now, slowly, i'm beginning to understand what it feels like.

I need Jesus, when I open myself up this life doesn't make sense without him. If the way I've been feeling this week is even a shade of his love, then I accept the sorrow that comes with the joy. Christians often have to choose between sustaining their comfort, or sustaining their love. I'm realising every day which is the more precious of the two.

On Communing: Every Breath

I recently heard the term "quiet time". Which I think is quite a common concept among bible study groups. It's used to describe certain periods in the day where you pray, read the bible and commune with God. A lot of people choose to do this when they have just woken up, and before they go to bed. It seems a lovely way to make sure God is prioritised in our lives; first setting out the day before him, then talking with him about how it went.

I can understand why it was cautioned that this approach isn't for everyone. I personally have some trouble with it. Having never got on with education - I'd say my reaction to academia is at best allergic - I can't help but draw parallels between the two. While we were discussing Quiet time someone asked if there was a danger of pigeonholing God, and I felt this was the one of the most important questions a Christian can ask.

Am I putting God in a box, ready for me to open when 10pm comes around and I reluctantly sit down to swill through its contents? God can not just be a part of my life I indulge, but the literal reason for the creation, breath-by-breath sustaining and eternal consequence of it. Some Christians talk about trying to be thankful for every single breath, and I like that ethos. It reminds me that God isn't a passive observer, watching my day from his window until I knock on the door with anecdotes about the things I've done. He is quite literally infusing my body with life. Every minute of the day I take a dozen breaths, and each one comes from his active effort to keep me alive. If I once thought that I was supporting myself and God was just someone to be thankful to, I now begin to understand that the very act of living, existing, is down to his constant hand on my back.

The realisation that God is giving me my every breath is awe-inspiring. That's probably why I like it. The perception of God as a distant person casual to my daily drama simply isn't compatible with it. It would be better to imagine that person constantly, and for my entire life, applying CPR. If I'm dying, God is the doctor who stubbornly compresses my heart and gives rescue breaths.

The more I relate to God as the complete sustainer of life, the more difficulty I have with the idea of scheduling him into quiet time. Like walking through the park with someone but not saying a word until you get home and write a report. If I understand God at all, he would prefer a constant loving babble to an official daily appointment. A new parent doesn't care how their children talk to them, as long as they always talk. Often in life the relationships we care for most are constant, and the ones we are apathetic to have to be scheduled.

I need quiet time to read the bible. At the moment I'm not strong enough to read it much in public places, and I need silence to concentrate on it's words. It's nice to sit down and pray after a tiring day, going over what I could have done better and what I'm thankful for. It's also nice to talk to God continually throughout the day, mulling over decisions with him and asking for his advice. He is there as my constant guide, for all the doubts I have about life, I am beginning to see he has none.

A farewell for now

Quite a profound and emotional day has resulted in me realising it's time to stop reading, writing and thinking about God, and start living with him. I've read so many books on the subject that it was in danger of becoming an intellectual hobby. I'm ready to accept God as my guide, now. To put my faith in him, that he won't somehow disapear because i'm not concentrating on him every moment of the day.

The Christmas holidays are here, and I'm ready to relax and hand the reigns of my life over to him. It was probably only in my imagination that I had them in the first place.

On Faith: A constant companion

I haven't felt the need to post up a new blog entry for a few days. Not because of a lapse in spiritual activity, more like a tentative settling in of faith proper. I feel like the past 3 weeks of conscious searching have been my storm, necessary to rouse me from a languid state of agnosticism. Now perhaps comes a time for a more calm reflection. I've not found a peace attained by stilling life and disconnection; I have opened my heart to the pain and suffering in the world that sometimes makes me feel quite vulnerable.

Being receptive to the world's distress would be very painful if I didn't have faith in someone holding me up. Physically I feel perhaps more delicate now than I ever have - the knowledge that faith shines through in suffering actually scares me a bit! - but spiritually I experience what I can only call a gently pervasive security. I am right with God. I actually suppress the bubbles of immense joy that brings because my contentment so far has relied on fleeting, fickle sources; success, circumstance, the acceptance of peers.

I've found something - someone - who doesn't conform to any rules of happiness I've so far been governed by. That's difficult to grasp, as I've found out from the almost awkward sense of calm I've been experiencing. Part of me simply isn't ready to abandon the idea that all peace is fleeting; Gods presence will eventually cease and my despondent relationship with security will continue onward.

Referring to life's changing nature, someone very wise once said:

"If you are feeling sad; wait a while, it will change. If you are feeling happy; wait a while, it will change"

My life up until now has been governed - and chastised - by this rule. The world in it's current state is no place to deposit something as delicate as a human heart. A most valuable gift we have - our sense of self - is constantly offered at a whim to whoever passes by. I look back on the way I kept giving myself to sources other than God, and it breaks my heart. A helpless child who, with big eyes and a hopeful expression, placed his happiness into the hands of wolves.

Bless, I put my heart and soul into those things least deserving of my trust. If I could go back to the boy I was growing up I would give him a huge hug, and carefully dispense the only bit of advice I can give with a pure heart - put all your faith, your longing, your want to be loved into God. He will treasure it as the most precious of his possessions.

On Jesus: Who I never knew.

I started reading another Yancey book today, having finished the one about Prayer. "The Jesus I never knew" is now on the lunchtime agenda. I wanted to start personalising Jesus, since attention so far has been so focused on "figuring out" God and coming to terms with his existence. I realised that I had almost skipped over the topic of who Jesus is, and why he should be so important to me. I know roughly how he lived, what he did and the significance of his death, but I'm struggling to meaningfully connect that to my life.

Part of the issue was wanting to take my time working through the Bible, preferably no more than a chapter a day. It has meant that my understanding of Christianity as a whole has been increasing steadily, while my picture of Jesus has remained at best hazy, and at worst hollow. I decided the best way to start building up an image - and eventually, a relationship - with this currently distant being was to start investigating him proper.

I began the first chapter today in a small city centre cafe, the chaotic and bloody environment Jesus was born into seemed quite at odds with the whimsical holiday tunes that were apparently describing the same event. It's exactly what I wanted, a no nonsense approach to someone whos message has perhaps been diluted by centuries of mainstream acceptance.

On Grace: The great fixer

I bloody love God, you know.

He is mending my life. That's the only way I can put it. Guiding me to do what I could never do by myself. Every time I get bewildered he is there, always waiting with a smile to take me into his arms and remind me it's OK. I wish more people could feel this. It almost brings tears knowing how kind he is. He is so caring, and he just doesn't stop giving, it's relentless. A donating of himself that I can barely understand, but slowly begin to appreciate, and be thankful for.

All the talk of 'praising the lord', thanking him and being humble before him simply didn't make sense until I felt his ceaseless giving. He constantly graces, it's almost mind boggling to have been an Atheist and then try to imagine an entity that does that, we simply don't experience it in nature. One thing us born again types have is truly appreciating how lonely life was without God.

The distress of living completely indifferent to God is, blessedly, and by it's nature, something we only have to comprehend retrospectively. The amount of grace he required to let me take everything he offered and still feel apathetic is...well, I'm running out of ways to say he astounds me.

I feel more tired now than I have in months. Exhausted from all the thought, emotions and spiritual searching I've done over the last week. It's normally at this point where I begin to entertain thoughts of giving up, and admitting it was all "just a phase". The significance that this hasn't happened will probably only ever be known to me. For all the logical, situational and factual reasons to keep faith, the fact that I can still feel his hand on my back is the strongest.

On Blessings: Gifts and responsibilty

Complementing my recent train of thought about responsibility has been the underlying awareness of the gifts I've experienced in life, both situational and personal. I've never been as thankful in my life as I have been over the last few days, and still I am humbled by the amount of seemingly unfair grace I've received. A wealthy family, a free-thinking country, a beautiful girlfriend.

I think I'm always aware of my situational blessings, regardless of whether I truly appreciate them or not. It's the personal blessings that now begin to strike a chord. For instance, God affectionately gave me a willingness to share my heart, and give advice. Yet when someone complimented this skill the first thing I did was swell with self-admiration, kindly thanking them for noticing such a great thing about me.

If God created a beautiful, unique poem and entrusted it with me. I took it, and immediately claimed it as my own. I convinced myself that I in fact wrote the poem and although I could barely understand it's significance, paraded it around, graciously accepting praise. Meanwhile, God waited. Patiently hinting throughout my life that these blessings I show-off as my own are actually gifts he gave, perhaps even with the intention of using them for his own purpose.

I think of the people in my life who have been given gifts. To communicate, to teach, to sing, to learn, and it often feels like in us he forged an incomprehensibly useful toolbox of faith-sharing potential. I wont start rebuking any praise I receive with "Actually, thank God", but my mind has been stirred, and I'll try to always remember the craftsman who built the instruments I use daily.

On Prayer: (not just) Perspective

I've recently been praying to align myself with God's own empathy for suffering and joy. That what breaks his heart, breaks my heart and what fills him with compassion, fills me with compassion. I realised - or, more accurately, learned to appreciate - the disparity between what I respond to emotionally and what he values. At times, the difference could span oceans.

Reservations I have about prayer - shared by others, judging by what I've read - often stem from my anxious refusal to commit emotionally, struggling to feel connected to the things that surely affect him the most. Distancing myself from the pain of others was a good way to stop myself feeling overrun with sorrow. Perhaps I'm beginning to see that I can lay that sorrow at his door and face what initially seemed overwhelming

That was a very scary sentence to write. It forces me to deal how I might have to change my life to back up my words instead of being an ivory tower hypocrite! I think of the potential given to me to help others worse off and I'm filled with a mixture of conviction (small dose) and blind fear (large dose).

For the first time yesterday I prayed for someone I had never met, having almost been brought to tears at their situation which I read about in a book. That's never happened before, and it seems that most positive action is ignited by an emotional reaction. The importance of feeling connected to other people's pain becomes quite clear.

This is quite a profound struggle for me. Taking the real Christian action of putting my own, treasured, comfort aside and potentially changing my life for God's work is an alarming proposition. If submitting yourself to God is the ultimate act of humility, facing up to the responsibility of action is the ultimate act of courage. Because really, nothing will change a life more than truly trying to be one of the hands of Christ.

On becoming a Christian

I'm quite exhausted, so I will keep this short.

For the first time tonight, I understood what is it see myself in God's eyes. I'm too tired to explain the events that have lead up to this, but I feel I can say from the bottom of my heart that I know how it is to be one of his Children.

God knew that pride was my biggest issue; feeling not only like I had to, but that I could, carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. In one breathtakingly efficient gesture of love he has taken the weight I so struggled to bear and picked it up, light as a feather, in his hands. He took all the dependence I had on myself an placed it in his care, where I know now it will be safe.

I almost can't believe how palpable this feeling of relief is, I've simply never come close to anything like it in my life. I understand now why the Bible refers to Christians as the children of God. It's very accurate. He's become my father, and I lay all my burdens, sins and troubles at his feet to deal with so I can enjoy for the first time the love he has for me.

I will remember tonight as the night I became a Christian.

On Nature: Blobs of conciousness

This question struck me today. Why are we so bloody gooey? The disparity between the eternal yearning of our spirits and the daily picking of our noses seems completely unreconcilable. That's because it is, I suppose. C.S Lewis talks about this in his book, referencing the ability of our 'reason' to poke fun at our 'nature'. He argued that the phenomenon of our reasoning (explainable as seperate from nature) making quaint remarks about how ridiculous we are was demonstration that we aren't merely products of nature, but seperate beings that contemplate nature - standing next to it and going "that does what??".

It's a really great couple of chapters. He goes on to talk about how the disparity between what our souls expects, and what nature gives is the result of a world where the physical and spiritual fail to mesh as they were planned to.

On Prayer: Pride and position

It feels like a lot of disappointment stemming from prayer comes from our need to compare our spiritual experience. I compare most things, cross-examining my achievements and emotions with other peoples. Checking to see if I'm up to scratch, and changing how I feel depending on what I find.

This post is a good example. I spent 30 minutes writing out a witty introduction and a "very thought provoking" main body before I stopped, prayed, and deleted it all. I was writing with the intention to inflate my ego, and quite quickly the process fell foul of all the usual nonsense I indulge when creating something for public viewing. The reason this blog felt different to the other stuff was because I - apparently briefly - tried to appreciate God's perspective. I realise now that imagining the world from such a lofty position takes a lot of effort to maintain, and a moment's absent-mindedness to completely forget.

So I came clean, asked for help, and the unpleasant stain that was tainting this usually calming experience dispearsed. Honestly, removing ego and pride from my spiritual life is where I will be asking for the most help in future. It truly is a monumental process, and it strikes me why Christians were known for their humility; honestly submitting yourself to God is difficult enough to type as a sentence, let alone adopt as the meaning of life. (Edit - not 3 hours later and my position on this had completely changed, see "On becoming a Christian")

This post wasn't what I expected to talk about, but I feel more comfortable pressing the Publish button now than if I had spent all night crafting a great post in which God had no interest.

On Prayer: Comfort and presence

I'm constantly amazed at the comfort I receive from Prayer. It's such a surprise that an activity I initially disregarded as superfluous and shakey has actually proved to be one of the most secure experiences so far. I pray throughout the day, in bursts. It seems to be the case that when I start praying, I don't want to stop. An odd feeling in my stomach that wills me to keep in the company of God.

Phillip Yancey comes to the conclusion in his book "Prayer - Does it make a difference?" That it's not how or when you pray, it's about honesty. I think I'm very fortunate to have entered Christianity with this philosophy already in mind. The book describes many people whose experience with prayer has been negative, largely due to the restrictive stigmas their churches imposed.

Eventually, it seems that people come to accept their own "prayer personality". Understanding that, just as we have individual ways of talking with friends, we have individual ways of speaking with God. I agree especially with one poignant paragraph in the book, which i'll quote here:

"Jesus taught a model prayer, the Lord's Prayer, but otherwise gave few rules. His teaching reduces down to three general principles; Keep it honest, keep it simple, and keep it up. Mainly, Jesus pressed home that we come as beloved children to a Father who loves us in advance and cares deeply about our lives. Ask young parents what is the correct way for their toddlers to approach them and you will probably get a puzzled look. Correct way?"

It seems i'm falling over examples of how bespoke the Christian experience is. I'm beginning to think God wants me to find this straightforward.

10 judgements I made as an Atheist - Part 1

1. I was essentially very open-minded.

I assumed I was open minded and accepting when it came to life's various perspectives. If organised religion represented all that was dogmatic and dictative, I was, by default, a free-thinking liberal who had investigated the Christian angle and rejected it on fair and reasonable grounds.

I was actually very narrow-minded, to a degree that I still find surprising. It's humbling to look back and see how little actual knowledge I had on the subjects I argued so vehemently about. Faith, doctrine, science. They all fell foul of my desire to passionately maintain the delicate balance of my own life philosophy.

In discussions I would get agitated and defensive, throwing fabricated facts around to support my outlook, all the while convincing myself wholeheartedly that everything I had said was justified because, after all, I was open minded and Christians weren't.

2. Christianity was about guilt.

I felt that the Christian religion was basically about guilt. Feeling it, feeling bad, then feeling appeased as you imagine a giant narcissist in the sky forgiving you. This circular pattern was the crux of the Christian doctrine, and the "miraculous" process of change people say they go through was the result of them eventually convincing themselves that feeling guilty was how we have to survive in such awful times.

A realisation came to me fairly quickly. If a couple are newlyweds, the hope is that they have a wonderful life ahead of them. The intimacy, the joy, the sharing of experiences, the nurturing of love and friendship. It's a beautiful time in someone's life when they find another person who they can form a bond with. Musicians sing songs about it, and we are moved by films that depict just how remarkable the process of falling in love is.

When such an affectionate bond is formed, it naturally fosters other desires as well. One of these is not wanting to hurt the person who you hold so dearly in your heart. You fall in love, cherish that feeling and automatically want to be the best you can be for that person. We all know from past relationships that it can be hard to stop ourselves doing things we know will cause hurt, and yet we still try our hardest to search for love wherever we can. Guilt is such a tiny proportion of the overall experience that we barely give it a second thought.

To say that the reward of true love justifies the responsibility it brings is quite an understatement. Something that surprised me was the overall message of love in the Bible - it is just overwhelming in it's abundance. It quickly becomes clear that all God wants is to have a bond with us, he is overjoyed to completely forgive the sin - a word that I used to cringe at - of any person if it means being able to build the kind of relationship we are all already trying to find.

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I wouldn't want to live for eternity with someone I didn't have a bloody close bond with.

3. Advanced thinkers understood that God is every person.

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Pantheism:
"–noun

1. the doctrine that God is the transcendent reality of which the material universe and human beings are only manifestations: it involves a denial of God's personality and expresses a tendency to identify God and nature.

2. any religious belief or philosophical doctrine that identifies God with the universe

I believed my pantheistic beliefs were both new, intellectual and represented a fresh modern way of philosophizing about life and spirituality. In fact, the opposite was true, much to my dismay.

Patheism is a popular contemporary belief, even if some people (like me) hadn't heard of the term until recently. I felt vindicated in my adherence to this all-embracing attitude because I knew I was breaking free of obsolete doctrine, discovering a unique perspective of life and utilising a personal spirituality that organised religion couldn't handle.

This was a case of simply acquiring knowledge on the subject. I wholeheartedly recommend that you investigate C.S Lewis' "Miracles". It's a fascinating book; quite short, but does a good job of dispelling myth that the "God is everyone" view is a recent development in the human psyche.

To give a brief description; he defines the actual nature of pantheism and it's roots, which can be traced further back into - what I arrogantly called - "primitive religious thinking" than any other idealology. He describes it as the knee-jerk associtation we make between nature's elements and human experience. As I read the chapter I realised I was a prime example of someone who took gut-reactions to suggestive nature and fostered them into a spiritual reality, two fundamental examples could be:

1. The anthropological association of light and life. That when we died we returned to a "pure light" that was both free and at peace.

2. Wind/Force/Energy. That spirits were likely body-less, immaterial wind-like forces of pure soul that would freely roam the spiritual realm upon death.

These were two examples of how my mind fostered an impulsive reaction to the world. It's a fascinating subject to read up on, and would have been incredibly unnerving had I not already been in a position to logically assess such beliefs (IE - after I was beginning to reluctantly view Christianity as an alternative)


4. My objections were based on logical impossibility, not personal preference.

OK, this post is turning into a monster so I will try to keep the rest short. Upon reflection I realised that my initial rejection of Christianity wasn't based on intellectual or logical concerns, it was based around emotional hurdles. If anyone else is like me, they will have two big heartfelt obstacles to overcome that may be hindering their investigation into Christianity:

1. Family members and friends who aren't Christian - this ties closely into the misinterpretation I had of Hell. I assumed that God said "Sorry, you didn't believe me", then took perverse pleasure in torturing for eternity those who were pretty good folk but just couldn't agree with the religion.

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How could a loving God do that to the people I hold dearest in my life? My short answer is that he really doesn't. A longer answer can be found in Lee Strobel's "A case for faith" or Gregory Boyd's "Letters of a skeptic". Such a charged emotional issue deserves more attention than I can give it in a whimsical internet blog.

2. There were enjoyable aspects of my life that I wasn't ready to give up. I couldn't agree that I was a sinner for not conforming to archaic, medieval law. I'm not about to be a Christian cliche and say "I swallowed my pride and accepted what I knew deep down all along"...except that's pretty accurate.


5. That micro-biological evolution was an acceptable beginning to life

I was quite happy to throw around my GCSE knowledge of science to help support my view that Micro-evolution (not macro evolution) was empirically proven. It came as a shock to discover the lack of, not just any evidence, but any plausible explanation at all for how life got started on planet earth by itself. At that point I could sum up my state as "disappointed". When i read about Evolution I still wanted Christianity to fail the 'logic' test. Instead, it kept getting bolstered by Atheism's inability to provide an explanation that was compelling.

If you are similar to me, and based a lot of faith around Evolution's God-explaining ability, I appeal to you to read books on the subject. Charles Darwin's "Origin of Species" is a good place to start. He was a lovely, mild-mannered man who didn't infuse his work with his own personal beliefs. From there, begin to unravel the intriguing story for yourself.

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This was intended to be a brief explanation on why I decided to retire as an atheist. It's become quite apparent that such an important issue doesn't lend itself well to a "quick overview". Part 2 to come, which might deal with:

• Christians thought the Bible fell out of the sky.
• My preconceptions about Hell were both morally horrific and correct.
• That a pure relationship with God would be trampled by Christian doctrine.
• Christianity was about doing, not receiving.
• All religions were equally valuable.
• All arguments against Christianity were rational, spoken with honesty.
• The burden of proof was on Christianity.
• That life fundamentally conflicted with the Christian doctrine.

On prayer: Someone to talk to

Someone very dear to me once said they feel guilty for falling asleep during prayer at night. I read this personal excerpt from a mother in Yancey's book 'Prayer' and immediately thought of her:


"Often I pray myself to sleep. I try to calm down, thinking to myself, 'I've gotta sleep, i've gotta sleep.' Of course, nothing happens. Now when I can't sleep, I have someone to talk to. I don't have to manage life on my own. God can help keep my heart from jumping out of my throat.

I used to worry about falling asleep during prayer. Now, as a parent, I understand. What parent wouldn't want her child to fall asleep in her arms?"

- Susan

It's amazing how the act of parenthood brings people such clarity in their understanding of God's role. It makes poetic sense that our truest appreciation of our father's love so often comes from the loving act of giving life ourselves. If we have been given one undeniable way to comprehend God's fatherly love, it's in our own emotions as we see our children begin their fragile but beautiful exsistence.

Links: On Marriage

Here are a couple of nice links to articles on marriage. I had never really thought about what marriage meant in a Christian context, turns out it's actually quite lovely.

If you can forgive them for essentially quoting an entire film to get their point across, this is a sweet article on what attitude to approach Marriage with.

http://www.christianitytoday.com/mp/2007/004/1.22.html


This one is from my local church, and talks about the reasons Christians get married. It also talks about committing to the institution of Marriage - an unpopular idea in today's climate of free choice (to make rash decisions.)

http://www.church.org.uk/resources/csdetail.asp?csdate=01/12/2007

One of the great benefits of the last week of solitude has been the opportunity to realign my expectations of love. I will definately have to read more about what a reltionship between two Christians really means, since it's an issue that now actually affects me. I never thought I would be typing that.

On Experience: Tailor made frustration

I'm intrigued at how different everyones entry into Christianity is. It's the only way it could work, really. Even so, it seems that we all crave a universal "religious" experience; reliable, comforting, quantifiable. A dependable escape from what can be a really difficult sequence of events - life.

Instead though we are confronted with an ordeal that seems tailor made to freak us out, rudely cutting through the accepted, civilized channels for spirituality - you know, the kind of polite revelations we see in Heat magazine and on the V.T's before each song in X-factor.

The issue of preconceptions has been the biggest for me. I thought I would be able to deftly sum-up whatever religious experience I was in for through years of hard, dedicated casual reading of occasional pop science. Was I going to let my mind be fooled into thinking I was being supernaturally influenced? No way, last month? I read a 200-page book about the power of suggestion. That's right, God, contend with that. My mind is a fortress.

I was a fortress in a way, albeit one perhaps ready to accept that the Trojan horse of a book 'The case for Christ' might just have a point, and may even circumvent the aimed arrows of my impenetrable intellectual prowess - a prowess built upon years of hardcore, detailed investigation. Like this article I once read in WHsmiths, and that bit of an interview I saw on tele.

So we find that the response we get to some open-hearted investigation at first feels self-propagated - how could these ridiculously bespoke feelings be generated anywhere other than my own mind? - but then may also be the answer from a God that knows us very well indeed. Hardly a revelation, but that's why I'm not sat here writing "The Bible II: ye' ain't got no game against these metaphors".

Prayer is much the same. God's response is often seemingly so in tune with my current situation that I inherently question whether it was even an answer or just the natural unfolding of events. Faith wouldn't be faith without that question, so I don't mull over it for too long.

Quote: On balance

I don't really know what to make of this quote, but I liked the fact that someone was talking about balance, since entering into Christianity can sometimes feel so overwhelmingly unbalanced, although in what way i'm not sure. Regardless, hearing someone speak about "rhythm of life" and "input and output" in a way that can be both devotional and reflective feels great.

Generally when you hear the word "balance" it comes from new-age magazines who insist it's all about being "in tune" with your life and needs. Consequently, when I think of Christianity I automatically assume that this luxury of a balanced life was for people who didn't have God's important work to do. To hear someone hint that you can have both is reassuring.

"People like Mother Teresa have shown us that anyone who wants to do crisis ministry long term must have a healthy devotional life. God has built into our systems a rhythm of life which we must not violate: output and input; work and rest; service and worship; community activity, family activity and solitude. Yet it is so easy at a time like this to neglect some of the less active disciplines in this list...Every time I sit down to pray or read my Bible there seem to be so many other urgent demands that call for my attention."

-Ajith Fernando

Quote: The middle voice

An interesting quote about the active nature of Prayer. Quoted in Phillip Yancey's 'Prayer - Does it make a difference?':

"My grammer book said, 'The middle voice is that use of the verb which describes the subjects as participating in the result of the action.' I read that now, and it reads like a description of Christian Prayer - 'the subject as participating in the results of the action.'
I do not control the action; that is a pagan concept of prayer, putting the gods to work by my incarnations of rituals. I am not controlled by the action; that is a Hindu concept of prayer in which I slump pasively into the impersonal and fated will of gods and goddesses. I enter into the action begun by another, my creating and saving Lord, and find myself participating in the results of the action. I neither do it, nor have it done to me; I will to participate in what is willed. "

- Eugene Peterson

On Prayer: What i've found

The things i've found I value most from prayer:

Telling God exactly how annoyed/scared/upset I am at the current situation. Completely ignoring pleasantries and formalities as I pour my heart out about all the things in my life I feel too ashamed to share with anyone else. Then walking around the next day knowing there is someone who knows all this stuff about me and loves me anyway. Score.

Keeping him up to date on whether or not I feel like i'm talking to myself.

Seeing his point of view. Reminding myself that what i'm asking for isn't for me, but for him, and us. This is a toughie, especially when I sometimes feel like there's nothing there to talk to in the first place. Either way, the change of perspective is wonderful. I stop feeling self-absorbed, and appreciate life a bit more.

Making sure I am ready to ask for whatever it is I think I need. Feeling secure that what i'm asking for is something i'm ready to commit to with all my heart. Making it a point not to ask for something that deep down I know i'm not ready to change just yet:

"God, I pray that you work all your will through me and use me as a way to reach out to othe... actually, i've got to be honest, right now I love my sunday lie-in's and getting up at 9.30am to go to a church isn't very appealing. Let's work on that first."


Keeping company with God. I expect I have little idea what this means, but I read it in a book and it seems to describe how I feel perfectly.

On Guilt: Finding love

When you fall in love, it's the love that drives the wish to not hurt that person. I wouldn't look at a woman and say "You know, she's just too great. If I went out with her i'd definately fall in love, and if that happened just think of the things I wouldn't want to do to hurt her!"

Instead, we imagine being in love, how wonderful that feeling is. We think of the relationship, and naturally we slowly change ourselves so we don't hurt the person who has so captured our hearts.

On Guilt: Red paint

The initial Agnostic/Atheistic response to Christianity is generally "Yes, but that's all just guilt, isn't it."

Christianity isn't about painting the world red and then feeling awful because it's your least favourite colour. It's about looking past the red paint everyone else is splashing around and realising you actually have a palette full of colours more beautiful than you could possibly imagine.

On Atheism

How does it feel to be the center of your world?

Lonely.

On Suffering: A parent on the sidelines

A mother cheers for her son as he plays in a childrens football match. It's a cold, wet, miserable day, and he's having a tough time. He keeps slipping over, missing passes and getting fouled by other players. The match is being won, but the boy loses heart, occasionally glancing longing looks at his mother as if all he wants to do is stop playing and run into her arms.

Watching her son so upset breaks the Mother's heart. She gives him words of encouragement, advice, and support, but her son is barely holding in the tears.

As much as she'd like to run onto the pitch and stop the game, the Mother stays at the sidelines. She knows that after this short match is over and her son returns to her, she's going to scoop him up in her arms, hug him with all her might and take him back to their warm, safe, loving home to rest.

"Even the most awful, tortuous life will feel like a night in a bad hotel when we return to the company of God for eternity"

On Resolve: Faith and Exercise

As difficult as it sometimes is to understand why I have to keep "filling up" my faith, it occurred to me that such a practice is required with most good things in life.

Exercise is an example. We need exercise, to get out, to move around. It makes us feel alive, its benefits are great. And yet it's completely within our power to ignore it. Indeed, the tele is an enticing enough opponent to exercise that we can slump on the sofa for entire weekends, neglecting our bodily calls for action right until we actually interpret them as calls of nature.

Obviously, our ability to ignore exercise doesn't negate it's importance. In fact it often accentuates it. Sometimes the reasons to stay in bed feel far more appealing than those to get up and go for a run, and yet we always seem to feel worse after a day spent in dormancy, than a day spent in activity.

Exercise takes effort, and we are rewarded with the literal building up of our bodies. Faith also takes effort, and rewards equally with the building up of our hearts. Unfortunately, you can't go out on a saturday night and show off you recently beefed up religious security.

Letter to the Reverend of a local Church

Hi,

This sunday will be the first time I have visited a church service by myself. A great many changes have occured over the last few weeks, and attending church feels like the right progression.

I'm interested in finding out about the 'small groups'. I definately would like to join Bible study on wednesday, and while I would like to also join another group, i'm nervous of 'jumping in too deep'. I don't want to find myself surrounded by passionate strangers, upsetting what is at the moment a very delicate, but potentially enormous faith.

Part of me can't believe I am here, writing this e-mail and feeling the way I do. 3 weeks ago I had a comfortable, vindicated and self-centered life. The response i've had from searching with an open heart has been at once joyful and scary. God has moved through my heart with unexpected speed, I just want to make sure it's his will for me to dive in and not my own tendancy to overstretch!

Your advice would be most welcome,

Thanks,

EDIT: Here is the reply.

"Thanks for your message. I am glad you are coming to [our church] on a Sunday. One of the great ways to think about Christianity is to come to church because this is where you hear about Jesus.

Reading your e-mail it sounds as if you have become a Christian (You know what, he's bloody right! What a scary thought.) That is very exciting. I understand your apprehension about joining a small group. At the moment small groups are winding down just before Christmas.

What I can suggest is the Christianity Explored group, which is a six week course looking at Mark's account of Jesus' life. The Taster session is oneither Wednesday 23rd January 2008 or Thursday 24th January 2008 starting at [our church] at 7:30pm. The group is there for both non-Christians and Christians who want to brush up on the basics. This is quite an easy way into things and might be a small group that suits you at this time.

I know that sounds a long way off so I was wondering whether you want to meet up and go to a Carols By Candlelight service next Sunday? There are services at 4pm, 6pm and 8pm. Let me know if you want to and which one you can make.

Best wishes."

I'm very fortunate to have such a great local church.