I honestly never expected to be posting about this, but here we are.
Being Post-Christian
This year marks eight years since I left the church and began my de-conversion journey. This means I’ve been ‘post-Christian’ and outside of the church (2015-2023) as long as I was a Christian in the church (2007-2015). It was hands down one of the best decisions I have ever made. That sounds harsh, but it is true. I do not regret the experiences I had, the people I met, or the breadth and depth of learning I gained from identifying as a Christian, but from where I stand now, I can see that my relationship with god suppressed, confused and even tortured me at times.
Creeping Curiosity
Over the years I’ve harboured a curiosity and nostalgia towards my old home church, which I attended weekly for almost that entire time. As mentioned in my 2020 post On Kids Camps, Worship Bands and Life with Jesus (Part One), I occasionally wonder about my old mentors, friends, and church community.
I’m sure the youth group has grown heaps since I left, as that groundswell of young’ns who were five to ten years younger than me have aged up. All the young teens, tweens, school-kids and babies I remember will now be uni-aged, high school aged, and primary-aged, which is incredibly hard to imagine. The passage of time is insane. I revisit the website sometimes – I’ll even admit to listening to the odd Spotify sermon when people that I know are speaking. It’s a very strange experience, feeling both alien and familiar at once.
Recently, I have been pondering the idea of going to a service at my old church again. Make no mistake, I have zero interest in reigniting my faith. I know in my heart of hearts that Christianity – and frankly practicing almost any and all religions – are dead to me. (Paganism, Wicca, and secular Buddhism all have aspects that appeal to me, but I don’t think I will ever formally associate with any religion again.)
Embracing Awkwardness
I know that it’s possible (read: probable) I will have some uncomfortable or awkward chats with people from my past, but I’d like to think there will also be room for reconnection and reconciliation. I know these people are lovely and kind, and I would like to think going will help me relinquish some of the pain and anger I associate with my religious undoing.
Is this the worst idea ever? Logistically, it can’t happen until I’m next in my hometown. When the opportunity presents itself, will I actually get up the courage or will I decide it’s not worth the time, effort and anxiety it will inevitably ignite? Tune in next time on Abby’s Insomniac Wonderings where I may or may not report on how this (presently hypothetical) visit went…
bohemianhumanist.com 