Why Am I A Christian?

Why Am I A Christian?

Some of you probably guessed it from the beginning, when i started this community, that i would end up switching sides. spakspang once called me Israel (as in Jacob) because, as he put it, i was the kind of guy who would pick a fight with God, and i wouldn't relent until he broke something. He has no idea how true that story is in my life. challenging_god marked the day i threw down the proverbial gloves and stated outright that i wanted to take God on. My Christian friends, distressed, warned me about blasphemy and punishment, but i maintain that if God really is who he says he is, he can handle me.

People i know keep on asking what it was that had me change my mind. It was a lot of things. There is no one thing i can point out and say, "There, that was it. That's why i'm a Christian now." But i can promise you it was nothing as simple as agreeing to some theological proposition. It was a heaven and hell of a lot more than just changing my mind. So i'm writing down an account of the process of salvation i have experienced up to this point. What i say is true but you don't have to believe me. You can think i'm a liar, embellishing some delusion to trick people into signing up, or that i'm merely weak and stupid. If that's the case, don't bother to respond, i've already heard it. This is a personal experience, totally subjective, and i am not offering it as any kind of proof of anything. It is only my story to date. That's it. Take it or leave it.

It is enough to say that at one point i lost all my closest friends in one day because i confided in one a mystical experience that didn't meet their standards of Christianhood. I was called a blasphemer, heretic and witch and mocked and harassed out of the Christian community i'd spent my entire life in. I moved on to a couple other Christian communities and found some kindness and solace, but in the end it fell apart and everyone i'd come to respect as a brother or sister in the Lord was a coward, liar, or simply incapable of receiving or giving help. I abandoned my family, abandoned my church, and isolated myself as much as one can.

I had tried to live the Christian life and tried to live according to the principles i learned in the Bible, and where had it got me? I was wounded, angry, bitter and mistrustful. I distanced myself from everyone who loved me and said some awful things to them all. I exacted swift and brutal revenge on everyone who hurt or bothered me in the slightest way. I was cruel. And i hated myself for it.

I hated God because he took away my life, my friends and my joy. I wanted so badly to forgive those who had hurt me but i hadn't learned how. No one had ever taught me what it means to forgive or how to do it. I prayed for hours, days and weeks. But then i gave up. I didn't have it in me any more. I couldn't keep struggling without any answers or help.

I tried to find love and safety in a woman's arms for a year and a half but it fell apart because she renewed her life for Christ and i could not share her faith. I understood and we parted on amicable terms. But the pain of it stung nonetheless.

I tried to find truth on my own terms. I started with the assumption that some sort of Deity exists, whatever that may be, and that whether by nature or design it somehow impacted all of humanity and was thus reflected in the world's various cultures and religions. So i embarked on a kind of gnostic syncretism and found my own flavour of mediocre mysticism. The ideas seemed nice but i couldn't find it compelling enough. There was no reason to believe it other than it making sense on my own terms. So i dug deeper and unearthed my favourite doctor and mystic, Dr Carl Jung. I was extraordinarily moved by his work because it confirmed to me a thousand things i'd suspected since childhood about the mind and soul. He also highlighted compelling reasons to foster individual mysticism rooted in one's culture and world religions, based on the mysterious hereditary and organic nature of the self. I was enthralled.

I tried to practise everything i learned as i went along. No matter what it was, if it was beneficial in my mind, i did it. I wanted to be a better person. I wanted to be healthy, in my heart, my mind and my soul. I worked hard.

All this time i found myself coming back to the Gospel. I couldn't get Jesus off my mind. I was attracted to what it said. The story itself, as a narrative, the message, the sheer intensity of it. It was messy, brutal, loving, passionate, violent, chaotic and sincere. Out of every religion, philosophy or thought i studied or imagined, i could never find anything so beautiful. But beauty alone was not enough to believe it.

I discovered Nietzsche next. I read Thus Spake Zarathustra and was delighted. It was inspiring and it gave me hope for humanity, and subsequently, myself. After my own syncretic mysticism fueled by Jungian individuation of the self, Nietzsche provided the hope and inspiration i needed to continue my struggle.

But it was short-lived. As perfect a system as i could devise, it crumbled miserably where the rubber hit the road. I was no more a better man than i was when i started. And some even said i was worse off. Everything i did hurt someone or upset them. I was useless to everyone i cared about. I hated everything about myself and i was completely lost as to how to change it. I found no satisfaction in anything i did. You could say i crashed, but the truth of the matter is that i had crashed a long time ago and had only been stumbling around in denial.

I don't think it is possible to accurately describe what it's like to sincerely hate yourself and want to die any more than it is to describe what it's like to be in love. It's a sickness of the mind and disease of the spirit that only people who've fallen ill with can truly relate to. It's looking in the mirror and loathing the very soul of what you see. It's a stone in the pit of your stomach, tightness of the shoulders, cringing at the sound of your name, nausea at sunlight, longing for blackness and solitude, and going to bed shaking because the thought of waking up is unbearable. It is nightmares and insomnia. It is hopelessness and sluggishness. It is hating the sounds of all your loved ones' voices because if they could only see how desperately ugly your heart is they would never speak to you. It is holding pure and utter disgust for every thing you say and do, wishing some horrible accident would do you the courtesy.

I gave up.

I decided that the last thing i could do to benefit the people around me would be to end my life. So i planned carefully to make sure this wasn't yet another failure. I spent months carefully detailing exactly how i wanted it to be. I talked with emergency medical response team members about their experiences with suicidals. We talked the do's and don'ts of dying, what works and what doesn't. I researched suicidal tendencies, what causes them, and various help groups for people planning or just contemplating. I spoke with free counsellors about it, mostly out of curiosity, and found no help (though i must make known that they do indeed help others.) I researched bereavement and the stories of those who've lost loved ones to suicide. Then i designed a funeral rite that i felt would facilitate the mourning process more effectively. In my will i included the name and contact info of a counsellor who dealt solely with such people. I wrote a concept album exploring and expressing all my feelings on the matter. I told some people my intentions and heard all their protests against it. (I made sure none of them knew anyone who knew enough to try and stop me.) I hinted at it in my journal, as i learned is typical of suicidals. I planned the timing and the event in such a way that i would not be found in time. I wrote a ritual to help me prepare my mind and overcome my fear. I planned it in such a way that there was no way they could stop me, so they would have no reason to feel guilty. I planned it in such a way that i would die on my birthday.

This process took at least four months and in that time i had a lot of things to consider, spiritually speaking. I accounted for all possibilities and concluded that if i ended up in hell i deserved it, and accepted that possibility. I thought about everything i had done to construct the perfect mystical philosophy, and wondered how i could ever find the truth, if any truth exists. I decided that if God really is out there, i would challenge him. If God is listening, i had something to say to him. I attacked every religion i could, but it ultimately culminated in taking on the God of the Bible, the God i once tried to serve. I hated him and i would kill him if i could. So in my bitterness, regret, hatred, prejudice and rage i created challenging_god to take on the Christian community and their God. The Christians who still managed to put up with me accepted the challenge, as concerned as they were about me personally, and the rest of this community is history.

I tried to keep an open mind and consider what was said to me. I argued with the best of them and enjoyed much of the interaction that ensued. But it was not enough and i continued with my plans. I decided that my attempt would be the ultimate challenge. If God really existed, if God really wanted me, he would stop me and reveal himself to me. I invoked this thought a number of times in my album, saying, "..and god / if you want me / i invite you / to try and stop me," and "Will you be there, lord? I want to see." If God was really there he would interfere directly and make himself known to me. I wasn't counting on it.

The night in question i was fully prepared. I had eaten an excellent meal and gotten drunk for breakfast. I sobered up with another excellent meal for lunch. I tied up my loose ends online. I said goodbye to my best female friend, h1s_songb1rd, and posted my lyrics and suicide letter on the Internet where i knew no one would be able to act fast enough to stop me. I went to a little park where it was dead at night and no one came. I figured it would be nice to die in a beautiful place. I prepared myself and went through the motions of the ritual. I spoke to myself and calmed myself and accepted fully and completely what i was about to do. I warmed up by slicing both forearms with the razor. It was raining. I shivered but i liked the cold. I bled a little and it was comforting. The blood mingled with rain drops and it was beautiful. I laughed. I then pressed the knife against my wrist and took another deep breath. I don't know how long i was there. It felt like an eternity. It might've been only a few minutes. I contemplated everything that had passed to bring me to that point. I remembered my childhood, my parents, my friends, my teachers and my enemies. I remembered happy moments and bitter ones. I thought about how my thinking, no matter how proper and correct it seemed, had only brought me to worse forms of self-destruction. I thought about my conclusion, that i needed to go, and agreed with myself that it had to be done. Throughout all this i would take opportunities to press down harder and test the resilience of my skin. I would have to bear down hard to make a cut deep enough. Then my mind cleared. I was ready. I took another deep breath. And suddenly, in a swift movement, the knife was knocked, or wrested, from my hand and before i could see it, let alone catch it, broken into pieces on the ground. I looked down at the knife in complete shock. I couldn't believe it. I bent down and tried to reassemble it but it was hopeless. I tried to cut myself with one of the pieces but it was impossible to get the leverage i needed.

I was devastated. I screamed. I fretted and wept. What could i do now? My intentions were published online and i wouldn't have another chance. I couldn't get another knife, everything was closed. I had nowhere to go and hide until i could try again, and people would be looking for me. What could i do now? I looked ahead of me, to the path on my right and the bridge across the pond in front of me. I could stay the night with my best male friend and hope he hadn't gone online or that no one had called him. I could go to my dad's place and tell him what happened. It was a choice between life again or an unpleasant, messy death. I considered what had just occurred and the implications of it. I didn't know. I chose life.

My dad found me frantic and incomprehensible. I took my sweater off and he saw my bloody arms. I was soaking wet from the rain and shivering, so i took a hot shower. Then we talked about what happened but i couldn't find a way to articulate why. I told him i was useless and a burden on all those around me, which was partly how i felt. He resolved to find ways to encourage my talents and have me get whatever help i might need with my emotional problems. I accepted whatever came as providence. I couldn't shake what had happened from my mind.

I didn't drop it. I had a vice grip on the thing: i needed that kind of grip to make sure i cut deep enough to sever a major artery. It happened so fast. I couldn't have just let go of it. It was an act of someone's will, whether my own, or someone's. I contemplated whether it was some act of primal, instinctual self-preservation. My instincts hijacked my brain and made me let go of it. Maybe, i thought, that could be it. It could be instinct, or maybe some kind of natural slip. It was raining, after all. But i had grabbed the knife before it started raining. Sweat? No, i was cold and not sweating at all. So was it instinct? It could be. But try as i did i couldn't shake the realization that whatever it was, by some force i was unable to explain i was still here, alive.

Whether that force was some kind of instinctual drive, archetypical inertia or synchronicity, i decided to call that thing "God" and see where it would lead me. It was responsible for my life now. I would only follow and obey as directed. If this was truly the God of the Bible or any other kind of god, i would allow it to show me, and i would live with it however it wanted. I didn't care at all. I had lived up to my full potential and come short of everything i wanted in life and wanted to be. If something out there wanted me alive and could sustain me, i would live how it wanted and die if it so pleased. I had come to the end of myself.

I won't go into everything that followed. Not long after that event i moved to another province to live with my younger brother. We had a rapport that seemed to work. I felt okay for a few months. But then it all came back again. Nevertheless, good things were happening again. Whatever this "God" was, it was helping me get the things i needed to get my act together. As for my beliefs? Since i could not deny the prevalence of paranormal and terribly synchronistic events in my life, the reasonable conclusion was chaoism, or chaos magick, an occultic extension of nihilism. In chaoism the only creed is "Nothing is true; all is permitted," a quote often attributed to Hassan I Sabbah. The idea is that the value of a belief is not in whether it is true, something that cannot be determined, but in whether it is useful. So the chaoist utilizes whatever belief or magickal technique they can to accomplish their goals. And since the only thing i knew about this God was that it wanted me alive, i felt i had free reign to explore whatever ideas worked for the time being.

I had a significant amount of success. I was able to protect and curse as i saw fit. But i found that God wanted to participate in the things i did. I couldn't possibly describe to you any of these things or what it felt like. I can only say about my experience of God was that it was remarkably comparable to Austin Osman Spare's description of the Kia. It was different, though. This God was more personal; it had direct influence on the little things in my life. It guided my life through a kind of results mysticism akin to contemplative prayer. It was hilarious and generous and frightening and powerful.

I had all kinds of beliefs but i had to work with my experiences. I knew what worked so i had to come up with reasons to explain them. The best i could do was a mixture of Jungian psychiatry with Spare's Zos-Kia magickal techniques. It was flimsy but it was also irrelevant because nothing is true anyway.

But then there was the Gospel and Jesus Christ. I couldn't escape it. I couldn't get away from it no matter how i tried. I hated them. I wanted to ignore them but couldn't. The Gospel offended me. I hated what Jesus Christ said. I wanted to tear it all apart and throw it away but as much as i wanted to i was unable to do it. I resumed my challenges against Christians and Christianity, but at the same time fought with some of the reasons people justified the Christian faith with. So much of it did make sense to me but in my heart i couldn't accept the underlying implications. Jesus Christ, God? The Way, the Truth and the Life? Love others as we love ourselves? Love our enemies? Forgive? How could i do that? I couldn't before. I never had any trouble accepting that humans are sinful and corrupt. But how could i believe that humans could be saved by Jesus Christ, a crucified God, who never gave me the things i needed to get by and change my life? What kind of God was this, who would let his people suffer so needlessly? I couldn't accept it. I hated it. I was offended.

h1s_songb1rd was with me throughout this whole time. By this time we were more than friends, and she really helped me keep perspective. She never gave up on me because she was a Christian and i was not. She kept me accountable and wouldn't let me feed her some line of philosophical bullshit. She confronted me with the Gospel as much as i would allow and made me think about it. We talked and fought it over. She never gave in. She conceded whatever point i successfully debated, but it was always a hollow victory because it never won the war against God. Then she asked me one day, "Why are you so angry?"

She kept me responsible to myself. I hated the God of the Bible. But why? If nothing was true, what motivated me to anger every time we talked about the Christ? No other religious figure, historical or mythical, affected me like that. Why was i so offended when i read the Gospels? No other text ever made me angry. I flew into a rage sometimes and would yell at my girlfriend because of it. Why? Why was i so upset? What was it? I had to find out. I realized then that if i wanted to actually be free to choose whatever belief and do any thing i wanted i would have to free myself from this horrid, implosive hatred of the Christ and all he stood for. I had to deal with him on a personal level and free myself from that awful attachment, whatever its cause. I decided to pray to him.

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? I figured if i can't get rid of the Christ, i might as well use him. See what he's capable of. I began asking for things i needed and insight into situations that might harm someone i love or myself. I got everything i asked for. I used his name to accomplish things in my life that i couldn't accomplish otherwise. Changes in my environment, changes in those around me, and changes in my self. I'm being non-specific for a good reason. If you can't take my word for it now, there's no point in giving you details. I'm not trying to prove anything to you. It happened or it didn't. Getting everything i wanted from the Christ was a profound success. In chaoist's terms, he was incredibly useful.

h1s_songb1rd hated what i was doing. It was incredibly blasphemous. But i assured her that if the Christ really is who he says he is, he wouldn't tolerate it for long. She wanted my assurance that i would some day believe in him, really believe in him. I told her that i couldn't let go of him now since he was giving me everything i'm after. I was not about to give up on such a good thing. As for being the Christ, a real person, an actual deity, the Living God, he would have to show me that himself.

I continued what i was doing and increased the level of involvement the Christ had in my life. I figured if i could use him sometimes, why not use him all the time? The Kia notion of God was working and there was no conflict between the two. Besides, so what if there was? Nothing is true anyway. Pretty soon i worked with no other belief at all. It was all the Zos-Kia and the Christ in a somewhat shallow but doable mixture. I found the Bible useful for revealing insights and things i hadn't considered in relation to situations around me. Then i began having dreams that warned me of things to come and how to deal with them. Others told me how to change certain parts of my psyche that were holding me back. Others gave me solutions to personal conflicts and relationships. It was impressive and helpful. I never asked for that degree of help but i appreciated it nonetheless.

I couldn't tell you everything. Only h1s_songb1rd knows. She was there through it all, supportive and helping me and encouraging me. She expressed every last concern and objection but she never condemned me. She was always loving, even though now i really was blaspheming and not trying to be a Christian. We talked about everything that happened and what it meant. She heard me out and made sure i heard her. It was an equal exchange. I learned so much. And i'm sure she did too. We're great partners. She held my hand through everything, no matter what i believed.

Then i had a dream that changed everything. It was the kind i had been dreaming in series before, the kind which told me of things to come and how to deal with different situations. It was more significant, however, because in it were some very specific things i had never heard of before. I searched them out and found that the people and things i'd dreamed of were indeed real, as were the things my dream told me about them. But the meaning of the dream struck me hard: i was told to either submit to the Christ and follow him alone or i would end up a mad, lost and confused "prophet" for the rest of my life. I was taken aback.

This was the kind of thing i had been waiting for. The "Kia" was telling me i needed to worship the Christ as who he said he was, not only a useful belief to utilize in my daily practise. It occurred to me that i could only get so far with a man who claimed to be the Way, the Truth and the Life while simultaneously denying the existence of Truth. It was take the plunge and go with the Christ, whom i still felt reservations about, or take the "safe" road away from him and never find anything different. I loved where this was going and there was no way i was going back. I chose to take a chance on the Christ.

I wrote and prayed (among other things) the following: I hereby renounce chaoism. I commit myself to progression toward you, in your Spirit, by your grace, through faith. I repent of having abandoned your truth, your spirit, your guidance and that of those you have appointed to lead. I ask that you cleanse my mind and my heart of all those things i have done to poison them, but allow me to retain all the things i have learned that may serve to promote your love, your truth, and your wisdom to other people in my life. I ask that you forgive my sins, and i thank you that you do. Help me to continually seek you and move toward you. Thank you for "pruning" me, for privilege of being "grafted into the vine." Thank you for your correction. I choose to worship you and you only, and to learn from your Spirit and your Spirit only, wherever it may lead me, in accordance with the truths you have set out in the Scriptures. In Jesus' name, Amen. I shared this prayer with h1s_songb1rd, who was exceedingly happy. Our life together has never been the same.

I could never regret my decision. Since i chose to recognize the authority of the Christ in my life, everything has come together to improve my well-being, from my spiritual life to my thought life to my emotions and my body. Everything i have wanted to change about myself but could not is changing. Everything i have ever wanted to be i am becoming. Honestly, sincerely, truthfully, i can finally say that i actually like myself. I look in the mirror and i can tolerate me. I love this progress that is being made and there is nothing i could have done alone to make it. Jesus the Christ is actively involved in my life and making it all happen. I cannot begin to fathom everything that has been going on since then, but i can say that i could never turn back now. Nothing could make me stop loving him. It can only improve from this point forward. I'm not about to ever let anyone or anything take this amazement and joy away from me. I am different now and i could never go away from it.

Self-destructive, selfish and bitter patterns of thought have changed and are changing. I'm becoming more able to forgive and let others be and not punish them. I've been able to make amends and reconcile with people i've hurt and troubled for years out of spite because they had hurt me. I've been able to make near immediate changes in my thinking to help for better relationships overall. I've been more confident and able to take charge of my life without manipulating or hurting others. I'm more able to think clearly and see things in my life without hurt, bitterness or malice. Physically, i have more energy and i can enjoy more activity. Emotionally, i'm better able to take care of my heart without exploding or taking revenge. But not only that, i have so much more happiness, gratitude and lovely feelings in my life. Mentally, i am lucid and able to perceive a greater degree of my own mind so i can take more control over my own thoughts and habits. Spiritually, i have a great love and peace that could not possibly be comprehended in any other way but by one's similar spiritual experience. Overall, i am complete and healthier in a way i never thought possible.

I have joy.

I cannot begin to explain everything that has happened. It's enough to say what i've written here. GOD is everything i've ever wanted and more. I am my fullest potential and more in him. I cannot begin to describe it, but i can tell you what is true. Jesus the Christ is Lord. He is the Way, the Truth and the Life. There is no other path of true salvation. There is no other valid path. If you are willing to commit everything toward having him, he will commit everything toward having you. It's a process, a long, difficult and costly process. Because of the changes GOD has made in my life, some of my family is not willing to speak to me. But GOD in my life, and the unquantifiable good, and self-esteem i have achieved because of him, are more than anything my loved ones could say or do to hurt me. And that is the way it is. You must be willing to give up everything for the Truth. Absolutely everything. But if you are sincere in your heart that you want GOD more than anything, you will have him, life and life abundantly. I will say no more about that here.

This is just my story to date. It's not some theological thesis. It's not some kind of proof of GOD. You can deny it all you want. It's an answer to the question: Why Am I a Christian? I haven't told you everything, but you don't need to know more than what i've written. I hope this has made a positive impact. I do hope and pray that you come to know the Lord and love him, but that is between you and him, not me. Remember, i am only one man. GOD is infinitely more than you or i.

Thanks for reading.


~Shawn
Moderator, challenging_god