I can't tell you how many emails and guestbook entries I have gotten in my years online warning me of the danger my soul is in. It's no secret that that I have no love of organized religion, I have tried it and learned at a very early age that it isn't for me. As a whole I believe Judeo-Christian religions have done the world much more harm than good. Just looking at all the wars that have been fought over variances in belief and the cultures that have been destroyed it makes me sick.

There were two main religious factions in the town where I grew up, Baptist and Church of Christ. My parents, not being particularly enthralled with any one faith encouraged me to explore as many options as possible, thus I attended Jewish, Catholic, and Hindu services as well as Protestant. One summer I attended vacation bible school at the two big players in my area. I was eight years old.

The Church of Christ disgusted me. Everyday someone led a prayer in my class, my great grandmother had fallen and broken her hip and I very much wanted to say a prayer for her. I was informed that I would have to ask one of the boys to do the praying for me. Only males could lead prayers since Adam came first. Oh, how I wish I had known the stories about Lilith then… Needless to say I never went back after that.

A few weeks later I went next door to the Baptist church my grandparents attended. Every week they would assemble all the classes together and ask for anyone that had not yet been saved to come to the front. The second week, I decided that I needed to find out about this great mystery. I was led into the back with the others. They handed me a pamphlet, which explained how one had to let Jesus into their hearts, and about all the blessings that would accompany my entrance into god’s kingdom. We were broken up into smaller groups, we sat in a circle and were talked through a visualization of letting ‘Him’ into our hearts. I left feeling no different. The next week I still felt no different, so I went up to the front again. One of the leaders recognized me, and at near panic shooed me back out saying that I couldn’t come back a second time. I tried to explain that it didn’t take the first time, and I needed to try again, but he was adamant that I could not participate again.

I had already decided that Christianity held nothing for me by the time I was nine. Despite being constantly harassed with threats that I was going to hell, which started in second grade, I just couldn't find any justification for their religion or for my participation in it. In Jr. High many of my friends were conservative Christians. Generally we just agreed not to discuss religion and stuck to other topics of debate, but eventually their instincts to proselytize overcame that and they showed up at my door with their youth minister. Not wanting to be rude I asked them in and discussed my position with them. "We have more evidence that Jesus Christ existed than that you exist right now," they said. I replied that I wasn't questioning his existence, but rather the cult that had sprung up around him in the past 2000 years. Eventually I agreed to go to their church once, just to get them to leave. I went, I hated it. It was boring and I caused quite a ruckus during Bible study by debating everything, and to make it worse I questioned their concept of faith. "I can't trust a god who would want me to remain ignorant. The ultimate sin was tasting the fruit of knowledge, what exactly does your god have to hide?"

They never brought it up at school, but they would call and come by again and again. Eventually my parents, deciding that this should end, started dragging me to a Lutheran church because they were the most liberal around. They seemed to welcome my questions, and I rather liked that. I made a few friends there, so it was tolerable, I even went through their catechism class not ever believing a bit of it but making the effort for appearances sake. This, however, was not good enough for the Baptists. They came around still, this time telling me I was going to the wrong church… that I was still going to hell. Finally, my father had enough and made it very clear that they were never to come to our house again. Not long after that I quit going altogether. There was no reason to. I didn't believe in it and it was just a waste of time.

With all this in mind, I should also say that while I bash a religion, this often times does not apply to its adherents. I have known a few Christians who I very much respected for their faith. They did not try to push it on me, they were receptive to my questions, and they did not judge me for who I am. The others, well, if they want to tell me I'm going to hell that's fine, because if heaven is full of obnoxious sheep like that, I don't want to be there anyway.