RedCeltic
7th January 2007, 20:54
This post is more of a confession or personal narrative of my struggles with what I call an addiction to religion. It may be highly personal, and somewhat long, yet fairly relevant to this forum, and something I’ve wanted to get off my chest.
A couple of years ago I graduated from SUNY (State University of New York) At Albany with a BA in Anthropology. While studying in the field I noticed how religion is an intrinsic component to culture of every society that has ever existed. In fact in order to understand most tribal based societies and hunter gatherer groups that anthropologists study, it is imperative that they develop a keen understanding of religion and how it relates to cultures they study.
Because religion is so ingrained into the human psyche you can imagine how difficult it could be for individuals who come from cultures and families where religion played a major role, to begin to question religion as a whole, and cast doubt as to the very existence of supreme beings and supernatural forces.
This is the very experience I faced in my life. As a boy of 12 or so, I had been quite a good Christian child. Going to church, believing in Jesus as my savior etc, and hoping that I lived a good life according to his will. I suppose my dilemma may have been that Rather than being raised as a Roman Catholic as my parents, I had been raised as a Lutheran, since they detested some of the reactionary policies of the Church.
I found Martin Luther to be quite an inspiration as I was a young boy, and thought that unlike the Roman Catholic Church which demands obedience, that to be a true follower of Luther means to question everything. Well I did this to the point that by the time I was 14 or 15 I suppose I was more or less an agnostic.
About that time however I briefly dated this girl who called herself a “Witch.” In fact she had claimed to “pray to rocks” in her backyard. Always interested in things of historical and cultural significance, I began to study Pagan beliefs and years latter eventually was initiated into a Garderian Wiccan Coven as a “Witch and a Priest.”
Now at 36, I look back and wonder what had lead me down such a strange path, to go from finding contradictions in a overprinted confusing text known only as “The Bible”… to believing… or at least following a religion, that has been purely rehashed superstition from pre-Christian Europe and popularized by people seeking new life to be breathed into the Victorian era Occultist movements, that had been dwindling by the 1950’s when Gerald Gardner wrote his books on Wicca.
I realize now, looking back on things, that I had been looking for something, anything, that would save me from atheism. The thought of believing in nothing… well, frankly was hard to grasp. I had realized that the Bible was completely bogus. The Old Testament being rehashed archaic law that was handed down from some old king of Judea in order to keep his people in line. The New Testament being a series of books, some pretty much plagiarized (therefore not actually written by who they say they are) or pretty much had most re written, added to and poorly translated etc. Some bad translations were deliberate actually. King James of England had a Bible commissioned, and in it had a Greek word that roughly means “Poisoner” translated to “Witch”… in which at the time had been an anglicized word for the Celtic word Wicca or Wiccan… (Sometimes Wittan) which was a Pagan wise person and advisor to a King, lord, or whatever.
What I realized after years of pissing off my parents by being a “Pagan.” Was that I really didn’t fit in with these people. They believe in stuff I thought was even more bogus that believing in a dumb book. I never really believed in such things as ghosts, nor fortune telling, nor magic (even if it’s spelled with a K as in Magick) what really lured me in; I suppose is the same thing that ultimately lured me into getting my BA in anthropology. Which is a keen understanding and appreciation for history and culture.
I think however, that it is truly the fear of not believing an anything, nor being part of a larger religious community that influenced me for a long time. Having some sort of religious basis, that could explain the “unexplainable” such as where you go after you die…is truly difficult. People just don’t want to come to grips with the fact that when you die… you will actually not exist anymore. I hate to break it to all those capitalists who hope that Karl Marx is burning in some pit in hell for writing the Communist Manifesto and Das Kapital… haha.. but he doesn’t exist anymore. He stopped existing the moment his brain stopped to function.
I think that because religion has influenced us for so many thousands of years and has been such an important part of our culture and who we are, that it is extremely difficult for may people to let go of these aspects, especially when culture and family, and certain values they pretend to foster in society are very important to you. That’s why I have begun to consider it a social addiction.
A couple of years ago I graduated from SUNY (State University of New York) At Albany with a BA in Anthropology. While studying in the field I noticed how religion is an intrinsic component to culture of every society that has ever existed. In fact in order to understand most tribal based societies and hunter gatherer groups that anthropologists study, it is imperative that they develop a keen understanding of religion and how it relates to cultures they study.
Because religion is so ingrained into the human psyche you can imagine how difficult it could be for individuals who come from cultures and families where religion played a major role, to begin to question religion as a whole, and cast doubt as to the very existence of supreme beings and supernatural forces.
This is the very experience I faced in my life. As a boy of 12 or so, I had been quite a good Christian child. Going to church, believing in Jesus as my savior etc, and hoping that I lived a good life according to his will. I suppose my dilemma may have been that Rather than being raised as a Roman Catholic as my parents, I had been raised as a Lutheran, since they detested some of the reactionary policies of the Church.
I found Martin Luther to be quite an inspiration as I was a young boy, and thought that unlike the Roman Catholic Church which demands obedience, that to be a true follower of Luther means to question everything. Well I did this to the point that by the time I was 14 or 15 I suppose I was more or less an agnostic.
About that time however I briefly dated this girl who called herself a “Witch.” In fact she had claimed to “pray to rocks” in her backyard. Always interested in things of historical and cultural significance, I began to study Pagan beliefs and years latter eventually was initiated into a Garderian Wiccan Coven as a “Witch and a Priest.”
Now at 36, I look back and wonder what had lead me down such a strange path, to go from finding contradictions in a overprinted confusing text known only as “The Bible”… to believing… or at least following a religion, that has been purely rehashed superstition from pre-Christian Europe and popularized by people seeking new life to be breathed into the Victorian era Occultist movements, that had been dwindling by the 1950’s when Gerald Gardner wrote his books on Wicca.
I realize now, looking back on things, that I had been looking for something, anything, that would save me from atheism. The thought of believing in nothing… well, frankly was hard to grasp. I had realized that the Bible was completely bogus. The Old Testament being rehashed archaic law that was handed down from some old king of Judea in order to keep his people in line. The New Testament being a series of books, some pretty much plagiarized (therefore not actually written by who they say they are) or pretty much had most re written, added to and poorly translated etc. Some bad translations were deliberate actually. King James of England had a Bible commissioned, and in it had a Greek word that roughly means “Poisoner” translated to “Witch”… in which at the time had been an anglicized word for the Celtic word Wicca or Wiccan… (Sometimes Wittan) which was a Pagan wise person and advisor to a King, lord, or whatever.
What I realized after years of pissing off my parents by being a “Pagan.” Was that I really didn’t fit in with these people. They believe in stuff I thought was even more bogus that believing in a dumb book. I never really believed in such things as ghosts, nor fortune telling, nor magic (even if it’s spelled with a K as in Magick) what really lured me in; I suppose is the same thing that ultimately lured me into getting my BA in anthropology. Which is a keen understanding and appreciation for history and culture.
I think however, that it is truly the fear of not believing an anything, nor being part of a larger religious community that influenced me for a long time. Having some sort of religious basis, that could explain the “unexplainable” such as where you go after you die…is truly difficult. People just don’t want to come to grips with the fact that when you die… you will actually not exist anymore. I hate to break it to all those capitalists who hope that Karl Marx is burning in some pit in hell for writing the Communist Manifesto and Das Kapital… haha.. but he doesn’t exist anymore. He stopped existing the moment his brain stopped to function.
I think that because religion has influenced us for so many thousands of years and has been such an important part of our culture and who we are, that it is extremely difficult for may people to let go of these aspects, especially when culture and family, and certain values they pretend to foster in society are very important to you. That’s why I have begun to consider it a social addiction.