“When I read matyrdom stories, my heart aches with hatred and pain. This is not normal, at least not according to the environment that I grew up in. Martyrdom is supposed to be beautiful, a great testimony to the faith that one has in Jesus Christ, the one who martyred Himself for us.”
Packaged in a cute peach-colored Instagram aesthetic, a former classmate shared the martyrdom story of a congregation in Gok San, Korea. According to the story, in the 1950s, a communist group in Korea captured a group of Christians and their congregation. After giving them ample opportunity to deny Christ, their own children were hung before their eyes, and then they were run over by an oncoming train. “Oh to have an ounce of that faith,” was my classmate’s reaction, written in cute italicized font. My reaction? Hatred, originating from the depths of my soul.
When I read matyrdom stories, my heart aches with hatred and pain. This is not normal, at least not according to the environment that I grew up in. Martyrdom is supposed to be beautiful, a great testimony to the faith that one has in Jesus Christ, the one who martyred Himself for us. Those who are martyred are elevated in status from both an earthly and Heavenly perspective. To be martyred is the ultimate proof of love one can have for Christ. To not want to be martyred, to hold onto your children, to hold onto your life, is nothing short of being selfish. To want to save yourself is to deprive Christ His glory, they say, which He is rightly owed. I lived with that guilt for years, trying to force myself to believe in this ideology.
However, at the beginning of the pandemic, I began to grow frustrated with Christianity and conservatism, which led me to embark on a journey of deconstruction. When I began researching and questioning my beliefs, I realized I was finally old enough to choose what beliefs I wanted to embrace. I could free myself from the burdens others had imposed on me to be a good Christian girl, at least for the sake of my family. I did everything religious for the sake of our family image and out of fear of punishment.
Around eleven years old, I ran away from home because I did not want to be baptized but I could not tell my parents. When my baptism finally came, I began bawling and was escorted out of the house by my mother. (It was a sprinkle baptism at a family friend’s house.) As I stood there, she said, “Just do it for your family,” which I did. I do not remember the rest of the night. This unhealthy relationship extended to everything religious. Communion was not a public commitment to Christ. No, it was done as a show for my parent’s friends. I used to get in so much trouble for NOT taking communion.
It was not until the last day of my high school career that I began to truly question my beliefs and why I was doing it. My principal had just given a short lecture about a Christian duty to follow Christ and asked for students to come up and dedicate their lives to Christ. I was not a Christian, but I had never admitted publicly that I was not. Nothing I did was contrary to that image of me. I had gotten used to telling people what they wanted to hear so they did not get angry. But that day, I could not lift my legs to kneel on the ground before the principal. I tried so hard to get the mental strength to force myself to go against everything I believed to be true. But, what little strength I had was not adequate to compel myself forward. Instead, I began to sob loudly and gasp for breath. My memory of that moment is hazy, but I believe I curled up in a ball in my chair. My brain fixated on the waves of self-hatred and humiliation that rushed forward. I felt so much guilt and shame for beliefs I did not even hold to be true.
The Christian community is a clique. The theology sets up a natural divide between non-Christians and Christians (those in the world and those out of the world). The Bible teaches that Christians are superior to non-Christians because they have a specialness in God’s eyes as His own children. The Bible, also, teaches that Christians ought to love those different than them, but many Christians avoid those teachings. For me, I knew the way I was going to be treated was going to be directly correlated with whether I was a Christian or not. Some Christians would not want to be associated with me and others would view me suddenly as someone who needs to be converted. I knew I would not be genuinely loved or cared for as a person.
After graduation, I went to a small, Christian college that taught me two important things: (1) it was possible to separate Christianity and politics and (2) I could be loved apart from my beliefs. It was, ironically, this small, ultra-conservative, ultra-Christian college that propelled me onto a journey of deconstruction. It was there that I learned that there was more than one flavor of Christianity which was often contradicting. And that you could be an opinionated Christian without being angry and hateful. As I took in this new, accepting environment, I realized that I needed to figure out what I believed, because I knew that I did not want to believe what my parents believed. But what did I actually believe? It was then that I began to try to find the answers to questions I have long held. Theological questions that I never received satisfactory answers for. Questions like, “Why does suffering exist? What is my purpose in life? Why does God need to be worshipped? How do you find truth?”
It was the YouTube channel “Belief it or Not” that sort of answered my questions. I say sort of because the creator, Trevor Poelman, is not a Christian so his videos are not from the perspective of apologetics. Rather, he is farther along in his deconstructing journey and sharing his thoughts with the world through video essays. Generally, his videos focus on pointing out the flaws in charismatic churches. Through his essays, I found someone who was also genuinely searching for answers that pastors cannot or will not answer, especially the “Why does God need to be worshipped?” question. Though his answers are not always satisfactory, his questions and thoughts were so close to the conclusions that I came to.
I have always been drawn to existentialism, at least the part that says that there is no purpose in suffering. That it just exists and is pointless. Mostly, because none of the justifications that pastors gave were satisfactory. Suffering exists to glorify God, is one. My mind could never wrap my head around how being raped could glorify God. Pastors know and teach that God somehow is able to give peace, but He does not erase the memory or take away the trauma. It is something that a Christian will have to struggle with for the rest of their life. How is that healing? How is that glorifying God? As unpopular as it is, my focus on healing is on filling the hole that trauma has left. Yet, apparently, a Christian’s healing focus ought to be managing the pain. Perhaps, my desire for fulfillment is my own flaw regardless of the correct way to heal. I have a lot of pain to heal from abandonment at birth to being a victim of child abuse to religious manipulation resulting in low self-esteem. But, managing pain? I can do that. Escapism via television and junk food is my chosen method of managing pain. If given the opportunity, I would have been happy to become a stripper at fifteen to manage the pain of never having been genuinely loved by anyone.
Each person, other pastors say, has a God-shaped hole that only God can fill. Once God fills that hole, then all your pains go away. But I think that is bullshit. I have a hard time believing that God just makes your traumas, your triggers, and your memories go away. I have trouble believing in instantaneous healing like that view seems to suggest.
I realize that trying to reason through these heavy theological questions with human-made thoughts is illogical according to the Christian worldview. God is above human law, human logic, and human reasoning. He does not need justification for anything He does because He is the Creator of the entire universe. He does as He wills and as He wants. He, of course, has a nature, so He cannot lie or be sinful. But if He wants to kill His children to test them, He will and He is totally justified in doing so. Christians are willing slaves for Him. In fact, all of us, regardless of whether we are Christians or not, owe our lives to Him.
According to the Christian view, our lives are a gift from God. But that gift is not fully a good thing because we were given cursed, sinful lives that deserve God’s hatred because of Adam and Eve’s one fatal action long before any one of us were made. The only path to salvation is through God’s son, Jesus. To deny that salvation, which is supposed to be a free gift, is to deny God. Yet, how is this a free gift, as pastors so claim? It is not free at all. In exchange for this salvation, we are to become slaves to God’s every whim, every desire. If God tells us to let our children die for His name, we need to because He wants that. And worst of all, this is considered love.
Yet, as I grow older and recognize the toxic traits in Christianity and by extension in Christian families, I realize that this is not love. This is not a healthy relationship that ought to be encouraged, especially in children. Love is not about being slaves to another. Love is not letting your children die for ideals you believe in. Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in the truth. And that truth, according to Christianity, is ugly and awful. And I do not have to hate myself for recognizing that anymore.
Now, on my path of healing and deconstruction, I can read about brutal martyrdoms and react immediately with hatred, not guilt and shame. And that is a huge improvement in my book, no matter what people say. As I grow up, I aim to untangle the ties between religion and the toxic mindsets that I have. And after eleven years of learning how to behave, suppressing my natural desire to learn about things contrary to Christian belief, of being that person that did not screw up, I am so excited to live a life that is freeing. I can finally get that tattoo I have always wanted, that nose piercing. I can finally take that dance class. I can finally admit that I am an atheist who thinks that if God exists, He most certainly hates His creation because His followers think martyrdom is beautiful. Then, what is the point of His existence?
first published April 7, 2022 in Air Mattress Media
https://theairmattressmedia.wordpress.com/author/emmavawter/