I was raised ostensibly as a Catholic but during the course of my childhood I was exposed to several branches of Christianity in part this may have had a part to play in my later Atheism. My mother is a good woman, but was perhaps not a good Catholic, after all she was divorced which for a long while saw her ostracized by the local Catholic community. We used to say the lords prayer every night before my bed and my mother would frequently ask for me to pray for her or for our family, this too I think played a part in my Atheism.
So what effect did these 2 seemingly unrelated things have to do with my liberation? Well lets look at them shall we?
1. As mentioned I was exposed to several different versions of Christianity, why? Well my mother was outcast for want of a better term by the local Catholics in her community, for the sin of divorcing my abusive father so for a start this did not paint Catholiscm in a good light secondly the other churches we joined the COE, River church and Babtist church well they all seemed to preach different things they couldnt all be right could they?2. PRAYER! WHAT IS IT GOOD FOR? ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! Oh wait thats not right, the lines supposed to war isnt it? Its funny how well prayer fits in there though, sounds right doesnt it? I think I will leave it where it is, yes. Well as I mentioned previously I had to pray regularly, both the monotony of the lords prayer I still know it word for word now;
" Our father who are in heaven,Hallowed be they name.Thy kindom come thy will be done,And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory forever and ever Amen."
Then there was the adhoc prayers for when things werent going very well, which sadly was often. So what? Its a nice enough prayer? Why did that shake my faith? Well I couldnt help but notice no matter how much me and my mother prayed things never seemed to get any better, there were no interventions or miracles just struggle. Our words it would seem fell on deaf ears.
It would be nice and neat to say this is why I never embraced the faith, but really I dont know if I ever really believed. Praying to me felt a little bit too much like begging, I remember after a while feeling rather silly and self conscious while asking for alms from some unknowable deity, whom I was told loved us unconditionally but asked us to grovel or it would be the hell fire for us. Something as they say, was up.
The one thing that stopped me confronting the truth about my unbelief, which I think I secretly already knew, was that I was, and still remain terrified of death. Its the finality of it, the oblivion of no longer existing it scares me, I rather enjoy existing and I don't want it to end. Ever. I vividly remember being in bed one night maybe 6 or 7 years old suffering what may have been a mild panic attack about the thought of dying and begging my mother that she would give me a sign when she passed on, so that I would know if there truly was an afterlife or not. Not an average conversation for a child my age, or maybe it is who am I to say after all?
The one thing that stopped me confronting the truth about my unbelief, which I think I secretly already knew, was that I was, and still remain terrified of death. Its the finality of it, the oblivion of no longer existing it scares me, I rather enjoy existing and I don't want it to end. Ever. I vividly remember being in bed one night maybe 6 or 7 years old suffering what may have been a mild panic attack about the thought of dying and begging my mother that she would give me a sign when she passed on, so that I would know if there truly was an afterlife or not. Not an average conversation for a child my age, or maybe it is who am I to say after all?
Well regardless it was this fear that I think as I grew older convinced me that it was all baloney. Why you ask? I mean faith answered all of my fears didnt it? I didnt need to be scared, for I could go to heaven and see everyone I have ever loved including, I was assured, my menagarie of dead pets.
Well you know that reminds me of a computer game I used to love, the original Sonic the Hedgehog game on my Sega Mega Drive. I'm not sure if I just wasn't very good or if it was just hard but I could never complete the damn thing, there was this confounded underwater level and it drove me crazy, but it was fun if frustrating, it sat their taunting me, but then a friend told me a great secret, there was a cheat! Yes all I need to do was press;
Up, Down, Left Right A, C, B, C, A and Start
Do that on the main menu screen and I could skip right past all the hard bits and just complete the game and so I did. My dragon was vanquished, David had slain Goliath, only it didnt feel good, it felt strangely empty. I had removed the challenge and the hard work and settled for an easy answer, and do you know I never played the game again. I think thats what never rang true for me about religion, though I hadn't consciously connected all the dots yet, it was too easy it answered all my fears perfectly. Almost as if it was created by humans, as an answer to the crippling fear of death that haunts so many of us.
Alas religion was not done with me, no matter how I or my younger brother pleaded that it was boring,we would attend church. The only saving grace was we at least got to miss a lot of the more tedious bits by being exiled to sunday school while the Sunday sermon was being administered to the masses. It was slightly less boring although it seemed it was just myself and when he was a it older my brother Joseph who didnt treat it seriously and would lark about whenever we could. What I do remember most about those days was escaping whenever we could and exploring the Church, it was or at least to my young eyes a huge building from the COE side of Christianity, we would explore every inch of the building and its grounds cemetery and all. I will say this for religion I think I will always love the architecture of a nice old church. Aside from that it was a incredibly dry serious place and everyone seemed deathly serious about their faith, I remember my being confirmed as an earth shatteringly dull experience, there was certainly no revelation for me.
Eventually for reasons I was never completely sure of my mother stopped going and started attending her local River church. I will say this for them they certainly seemed to enjoy themselves more well that is when they werent falling on the floor and convulsing in religious "raputre". Ah but there was fun to be had here, presuming that myself and my partner in crime and younger sibling could sneak away from our jailers, who wanted us to sit in a circle and colour picture's of Jesus healing the sick or sing songs , when we could explore. Now I dont hold much with these awful, ugly modern churches but it had one thing going for it which was there were so many random rooms and places to hide, the best was the back of the stage in the main hall we were seperated from the throng by huge thick Navy blue curtains.
We went here for several years I think, I was at this point unconsciously an Atheist the ridiculousness of seeing grown adults convulsing around in the floor was one of the daftest things I had ever seen in my young life, and I dare say it still regiters high on my list now. Joseph I think still believed but he was too inlove with mischief to allow me all the fun. Then again for reasons I again was never privvy too we stopped going here and my thus begun my mothers brief flirtation with the Baptist church, the memory of this still elcicts a sigh from me, there was no sunday school here, no escape from the monotony just earth shatteringly dull sermons and similar to the COE no-one seemed to be enjoying themselves, but these were adults they didnt have to be here so why where they if they weren't enjoying themselves? At least the riverchurch people seemed happy! We werent Baptists long, just long enough for me to Baptised.
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| All Saints Church Maidenhead |
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| All Saints Church Maidenhead |
We went here for several years I think, I was at this point unconsciously an Atheist the ridiculousness of seeing grown adults convulsing around in the floor was one of the daftest things I had ever seen in my young life, and I dare say it still regiters high on my list now. Joseph I think still believed but he was too inlove with mischief to allow me all the fun. Then again for reasons I again was never privvy too we stopped going here and my thus begun my mothers brief flirtation with the Baptist church, the memory of this still elcicts a sigh from me, there was no sunday school here, no escape from the monotony just earth shatteringly dull sermons and similar to the COE no-one seemed to be enjoying themselves, but these were adults they didnt have to be here so why where they if they weren't enjoying themselves? At least the riverchurch people seemed happy! We werent Baptists long, just long enough for me to Baptised.
So there was brief interlude of us being Church free whilst we moved to Windsor then my mother reconciled with the Catholic church where she has remained ever since. Well now older and more confident I rebelled telling my mother I didnt believe in God, that I thought the whole thing was hoax for the gullible. I rather fear I was a bit of a shit. We would have spirited debates sometimes for hours about the rights and wrong of religion, through this my mother was a good sport and generally bore it all with good grace, looking back I think I was happy I never managed to change her mind or shake her faith, I found these discussions stimulating and entertaining, now that I am older and miles away I find I miss our animated discussions.
So we were at an impasse neither able to change the others mind, I was even then a being of singular purpose and not easily swayed finally we struck a deal, I would keep onoing until I finished my bible studies and had my 1st Communion, after that if I still didnt believe I was free to stop going.
You may gentle reader be surprised to hear that against my better I actually enjoyed the coming years. Not for the church oh no that was as ridiculous as ever but it was a great opportunity to act out and rebel, part of the deal you see our First Communion classes were aimed at much younger children than me and my brother and we had a blast tormenting our tutors and class mates, disrupting the classes joking and making merry in the face of the foolishness. Eventually sadly this passed and I had my 1st communion, I was torn on the one side WINE on the other this body and blood of Christ thing was among the more ridiculous things I had ever heard. So this was my 3rd daft ritual and still no divine revelation, I was done, I had upheld my end of the bargain no more Church for me!
Or so I thought. Yes my dear mother reneged on our deal! Outrageous I am sure you will agree, my outrage was loud and suitably petulant, complete with slammed doors, harsh words and what I hoped were withering looks. Sadly I was still a child and had no real say, so back to church I went but a new deal was struck, my mothers final roll of the dice I would attend until I was 16 then I would be free to choose. So another 3 years followed of trudging to church, I didnt go quickly or easily though, I would do all I could to get out of it, this included sneaking into my mother room and sabotaging her alarm and changing the times on all of the clocks and when she resorted to setting up automated wake up calls to our landline I would sneak down and unplug the phone. Sometimes my ploys failed and others I would succeed which would get me in trouble but I saw it as a worthwhile trade off.
Eventually 16 came and went and my mother now more resigned than ever gave in and I was free! Ah there were some glorious sundays that would follow, you see my brothers were not exempt so I would delight in watching them trudging off in the morning, and they deserved it too! Well after all they moaned and groaned but neither went to my creative extremes to get out of going. Then a curious thing happened as I was getting older I think I missed the routine of us all going to church together as a family, especially when we would be responsible for the coffee club and had to get there early. So against my better instincts I ended up going back to church, mother seemed thrilled, looking back I find these fond memories comforting, in the end we are not a social family and it was one of the only things that we really did together, it was nice if boring, but I had a solution I would sneak my walkman in and listen to my mix tapesMarilyn Manson, Korn, The Wildhearts, The Offspring and others helped me through many a dull sermon. My lack of faith was as strong as ever and me and mother would still debate but I like to think I was more reasonable and mindful of her feelings, knowing myself as I do though I fear this is wishful thinking. Time passed I grew older and finally after time the church left my life completely and it has never found its way back, however being now a bit older and I hope at least a little bit wiser, I do look back at these memories with fondness.
