Many months ago Neil Carter, Godless in Dixie, wrote an article about the Evangelical mind warping perspective on Philippians 4:13. (I particularly like the comment about his kids noticing the clock reading 4:13 as apposed to 4:20.) He also uses a cute analogy about Dumbo and the magic feather.
— Graceful Atheist (@GracefulAtheist) July 6, 2017
The reason Neil’s suggestion that religion might be helpful in the beginning struck me as true because that was my experience. Right at the time when I was most “lost” is when I became a Christian. That may actually be trite to say. Isn’t that true for everyone? This is going to sound like a religious testimony, but I have a point to make. So bear with me.
I grew up in a nominal Christian home. There were occasional references to God but he was never at the forefront of conversation. So much so, that I was curious about what the adults all seemed to know that I did not quite get. If I can quote Douglas Adams, my position on God as a kid went something like this:
Who is this God character, anyway?
The other pertinent piece of information is that I grew up in an alcohol and drug addicted family, specifically my mom. After years of broken promises and heartache when I was 17 my mom came to me and said, “Jesus told me to stop drinking.” “Sure, mom, whatever,” was my response. But she was clean and sober that day. And the next. And the next. She claimed God had given her a choice, “stop drinking or die,” and she chose to live.
This had a rather profound impact on me, as you can imagine. My mom did not push religion on me. After going to rehab and being clean and sober for a couple of months she bought me my first bible and gently suggested, if I was interested, to read one of the gospels. Which I did. Over the next year, I read it cover to cover.
With mom suddenly acting like an adult, this was my cue to fall apart. This was my junior year in high school. I had already had problems with school, mostly due to skipping class. But I was also dealing with what I now understand was depression and anxiety. I was panicked about projects where I had to speak in front of the class. So I did not go to school. Which made it harder to go the next day. Which made it harder still. The pressure and anxiety snowballed. I felt like I had a mountain of anxiety on my back every day.
So, I dropped out.
This is when I became a Christian. I had just watched my mother transform literally overnight. I had dropped out of high school. I was 17 years old, poor, with no prospects for the future. I had no idea what I was going to do with my life. All while I was reading the bible which was presented to me as having answers. And it claimed there was a God who cared. I needed help. Of course, I reached out to God.
Here is the point where my secular readers are jumping up and down at the manipulative nature of religion preying upon the vulnerable at there weakest. This is, of course, true, but not the main point I want to make. I need you to feel how lost I felt: on the cusp of adulthood, with no education and no plans on how to make a living, nor any hope for a meaningful life. Because the rest of the story gets to the point.
I had the odd experience of reading through the bible before I went to church. Which means that upon arrival at church I was constantly wondering, “Where did they get that idea?” I was 18 and the church had no idea what to do with me. So, the youth pastor asked me if I could help out with their youth group. Turns out not everyone in the church has read their bibles, so I was pretty good at preaching and teaching it very early on.
Here is the critical point in the story. One day the youth pastor says to me, “you should go to bible college.” Now, I was a high school drop out, I had gotten my GED and was playing about at community college with no particular plan. But suddenly, the idea of going to college was not out of reach. At least one person believed I could do it.
I wound up going to bible college and graduated Cum Laude. I met my future wife there. I briefly became a youth pastor. On at least a few occasions, I spoke and preached in front of thousands. This was the same kid who dropped out of high school because he was afraid of speaking in front of the class.
You know there is a rest to the story. This entire blog is the rest of the story. There were dark days for my mom. There were problems with bible college. There were certainly problems with ministry. And ultimately, my recognition that none of it was based on reality.
So what is my point?
I wouldn’t be here writing this today. I wouldn’t have my life. I wouldn’t have my career. I wouldn’t be married to the woman I love (I am still not in my wife’s league but I really wasn’t before college). None of these things would exist had I not been given that little bit of hope when I was at my lowest point.
I was dumbo. I was holding the magic feather of religion. And I could fly.
New perspective
One day, I discovered the magic feather was not actually magic. It was the people in my life who had lifted me up. But that does not mean the magic feather was not useful for a time.
Do I think God delivered my mother from drugs and alcohol? No, I do not. But the idea of God gave her hope to not drink that day. And the next. For ten years. Until it didn’t.
Do I think God took an anxious and scared kid and made him a public speaker? No, actually, I think it was the relationships with people in my life. That youth pastor who legitimately cared about me but just happened to be in the church. My grandparents who paid for half of my college. And even my mom who, despite all her flaws, let me know how much she believed in me. People believed in me, supported me and got me through very difficult times and allowed me to succeed.
Placebo Effect
The placebo effect in medicine is a well understood phenomenon. When people are given inactive sugar pills but they believe they are medicine they get better. The mind is a powerful thing and it has influence over the body (to an extent). The point is even though pills made of sugar have zero medicinal value people physically got better when they believed the sugar pills where going to heal them.
The point Neil makes above and the point I am extending here is that religion has a placebo effect. It can be helpful for some people some of the time. My mother’s belief in a deliverer (and not coincidentally one who watches over you and knows all) helped her overcome an addiction. My belief in the “Father to the fatherless” and a God who providentially guided me helped me overcome my anxiety and analysis paralysis and get on with my life.
Why in the world would would I (the Graceful Atheist) make the argument that religion could be helpful? A few reasons. But first let me clarify.
What I am not saying:
I am not saying that the magic feather of religion is actually magic. There are perfectly natural explanations for all of one’s religious experiences. In fact, that is the point, it is a placebo.
I am not saying that one should stay in religion. The point I am trying to make is a humanistic one: one’s own humanity and one’s relationships with other human beings are the magic. Not the religion.
I am not saying that religion is an unqualified good. It is more harmful than helpful because it isn’t true.
What I am saying:
What I am saying is that in some circumstances for some people some of the time religion can be a “crutch” or a talisman that helps a person get through difficulties.
Further, we in the secular community need to keep in mind that taking the magic feather away from someone by force leads to a crash. Placebos stop working when one becomes convinced that the pills are just sugar. But if someone else tries to externally convince, one is more likely to become defensive.
One of the reasons why I am not an anti-theist actively trying to disabuse the faithful of the magic of their feathers, is that this can be more harmful than good. When bubbles burst it can be painful. People self-delude sometimes for good reasons. Maybe they need that at the time. I tend to believe that when a person is ready they will start asking questions of their own volition.
We in the secular community should argue against bad ideas wherever they are found. Sometimes in public. But there is a tendency, particularly online, to see it as one’s mission to destroy religion at all costs. Not only do I think this is wrong, I think it is counter productive.
I have not actively tried to convince my believing family to give up their beliefs. Partly because, I perceive they are not ready. The magic feather is still keeping them in the air. Taking it away by force will just make them crash, not help them thrive as human beings.
We have to have something to give people to replace the magic feather. Something that will give them hope. Something that will carry them through dark times. As things stand today, I think this is the greatest failure of the secular community. Why would I yank the crutch out from underneath someone when I have nothing to offer but pure self-reliance? That just isn’t enough for many many people.
Avoiding the crash
After the deconversion process the single most important thing is finding community. Finding the relationships that keep one afloat. It is a secular community of caring people that needs to replace religious ones.
I consider myself a pathologically independent person. I decided at age 12 no one would be taking care of me but myself. The idea of a God who had my back was deeply attractive. It turned out I was still on my own. I tell you this to point out my greatest character flaw. I find it very difficult to ask for help even when I need it desperately.
A consequence of this is that when I deconverted, I did my thing. I did it alone. I read a pile of books. I got online and studied humanism, science and philosophy. I listened to hours of podcasts. I came to understand I was not alone. I was actually a part of a long line of history of doubters. I learned how to live life gracefully without God.
But here is the thing. Most people aren’t like that. Most people need more. If all we have to offer is “Good luck, you are on your own,” most people will reject that.
We need to do better at creating safe, welcoming and caring communities for the doubting, for the deconstructing and for the deconverting. We need to provide Secular Grace. We need to provide a replacement for the magic feather. It is we human beings who can do that.
What do you now see was a placebo?
I asked a few online secular communities I am a member of what they now thought of as placebo that they once believed was magic.
The overwhelming response reminded me (and you, dear reader) of the privileged position I have as a white(ish) cis-gendered heterosexual man in this society. Not everyone had positive experiences with religion. See the #ChurchToo. Some have experienced nothing positive at all.
I got pithy responses like: “All of it,” “None of it” and “Thoughts and prayers.”
There was a common theme of parents having transformed, angry fathers becoming loving caregivers and drug addicted mothers getting clean and sober.
Prayer was the big one people recognized as a placebo. Prayer feels like you are doing something when things are most out of your control. It is a tough one to get over post-deconversion.
In a mirror image of my argument for caring community, one person pointed out the false sense of community as placebo. They found out that the religious community who said they loved them and would always support them suddenly abandoned them as soon as they rejected the faith.
Also in juxtaposed from my experience of hope, one person talked about false hope. They talked about how devastating it was to feel hopeless when God did not come through for them.
I got strong push back from the spiritual but not religious who argued that the positive effects (“feel-good hormones) are not placebo but a direct result of spirituality.
What do you look back on now as a placebo that felt very real while you were in your faith?
Conclusion
There can be some positive effects from religion. It is OK to look back fondly on them post-deconversion even while you grow out of the need for magic feathers. Forcibly trying to dissuade believers is counter productive. Even if we could convince them we still need to do better at providing a safe and welcoming community for them to replace what they are losing.
Most importantly, you can be the magic part of a secular community that can replace the impotent feathers and pills filled with inactive sugar for the believers in your life.
A recurring theme of this blog is my reflecting back on what it felt like to be a Christian and then go through the deconversion process. The Deconversion How To post was the deepest dive into this topic. The question I continue to ask myself on this side of deconversion is, “why did it take so long?” I imagine secularists who grew up without a god secretly ask the same question and look slightly askance at those of us who once believed.
Why did it take so long?
This is a non-trivial question. I was a skeptical Christian to begin with. I often questioned why Christians believed and behaved as they did as it immediately appeared incongruent with the bible as I understood it.
What kept me from taking that skepticism all the way? On some level, I was aware that there were topics better left uninvestigated, that there were some answers I did not want to find. I did spend time thinking about why I believed and yet many of my colleagues did not. What kept me from exploring those questions to their conclusions?
Why was I so gullible in the first place? Before becoming a Christian I was skeptical of supernatural claims. I easily dismissed other forms of woo: alien abductions, Bigfoot and ESP were obviously false. What was it about Christianity that sucked me in and kept me for 20+ years?
My answer to these questions is a theme that shows up throughout my writing. This post will give it a name: The Bubble.
The Bubble
The bubble is a way of expressing the self reinforcing nature of faith. Everything points towards the center: god. Most of the people a believer comes into contact with are believers. Most of the content believers choose to consume is from other believers. Everything the believer experiences is interpreted in light of the bubble of faith. All of the experiences, people and content that do not reinforce the bubble are cast as sinful, outsiders and “worldly.”
In short, the believer encases themselves into a hermetically sealed bubble. Nothing bad is ever allowed in and everything on the inside reinforces what they already believe.
In case you have never had the experience of faith, there are many secular examples of bubbles. The Washington bubble was certain that a self aggrandizing incompetent racist could never be nominated for a major political party, let alone, win the general election. 2015 through 2018 we have been coming to terms with the fact that middle American voters were not in said bubble. Middle America itself could be considered a bubble. We Americans live in a bubble where we sometimes forget the rest of the world exists. We have but two boarders and oceans that isolate us. The concerns of Europe, Africa and Asia are distant and theoretical. Much digital ink has been deployed in lamenting our “siloed” (read bubble) social media echo chambers. We experience bubbles every day.
I went to a small Christian bible college with around a thousand students and around seven hundred or so living on campus. You basically knew everyone. We were self aware enough to comment to each other on the “bible college bubble.” We were aware that the big wide world out there did not care about our small dramas.
Even Christians are aware to some extent of the bubble they live in. They refer to the language of the church as “Christianese,” in recognition of its incomprehensibility to outsiders. They start “missional” churches focused on being relatable to non-Christians. This generally means a light show and a band, because they have no idea what non-Christians find relatable.
And let’s be clear, there is an atheist bubble as well. Reader beware.
The Trap
Now that we have an idea of what a bubble is, let’s discuss how the bubble tends to keep one from leaving.
Coherence
I recently read Daniel Kahneman’s behavioral economics book, Thinking Fast and Slow. In it, he brilliantly describes thought experiment after thought experiment that proves to yourself how we act irrationally as human beings. One of his theses is that coherence has no bearing on validity. As humans we are tricked into assuming that if a story makes sense, if it conforms to our expectations that it, therefore, must be true.
The coherence of a story has no bearing on its validity.
— Daniel Kahneman
The narrative of faith is coherent inside the bubble. It makes sense. It feels and sounds true. Everything is interpreted based on this narrative making it appear to be reinforced from all directions. Any contradictory information is either rejected out right or re-interpreted based on the narrative. This is done reflexively and without critical thought.
My twitter friend, Kathleen B. Shannon, who often counsels those who have experienced religious trauma, puts it this way.
Truth is in many way contextual. Hence Christians in the bubble believe it to be true. Internal validity, as it were. But the truth wears off after a while.
Truth is in many ways contextual. Hence Christians in the bubble believe it to be true. Internal validity, as it were. But the truth wears off after a while.
— Kathleen B. Shannon
“Internal validity” is a fantastic way to describe this. From outside the bubble it is plain as day that faith is tautological and not even particularly coherent. But from inside the bubble it is inescapable truth.
If one accepts the premise that the theistic god exists, then anything is possible. And this makes incredible things credible. How did the universe begin? God. Who is responsible for the bible? God breathed it. Did Jesus rise from the dead? God can do that without breaking a sweat. Did god send his son, who is himself, as a sacrifice to himself, to appease his anger at sin he entrapped his first created good people into, and continued to ascribe blame to their decedents through all of history? It seems valid if, and only if, you are inside the Christian bubble because the story is compelling.
This is something I struggle to convey to my secular friends who have never been believers. “How could anyone ever believe these things?” Kahneman’s thesis explains this. It turns out it is natural human behavior. We cannot help but be convinced by a compelling story, particularly one that fits our preexisting beliefs.
And Christianity is compelling. The ideal of laying one’s life down for one’s friends is baked into Western culture. We can argue whether Christianity introduced this idea or inherited it. But if you doubt this is true, watch any movie about war, watch any movie about a dog, watch Will Smith’s Seven Pounds (spoiler alert) and try not to cry. This ideal speaks to the very core of our culture and the story of the crucifixion is the pinnacle of that ideal.
Bubbles Pop
This partly explains the way theists and atheists talk past each other. They are not in the same bubbles, they do not hold the same things as valid and they are speaking different languages. Beating believers over the head with objective facts is ineffective because they are inside their bubble and the story they tell themselves is coherent and internallyvalid.
It is not easy for a person to realize they are in a bubble, let alone, to view the world from outside it.
It wasn’t until I explicitly set as a goal for myself to find objective reasons to believe, that my perspective grew to include the perspective outside the bubble. That was the beginning of the end. It was obvious to me that other religions were false. As soon as my perspective grew to view Christianity from outside the bubble, it became equally clear it was obviously false as well. The reason? There are no objective reasons to believe.
The picture above of a bubble resting on the tip of a pin is the thousand words depicting the precarious nature of faith. The single premise, “god is,” predicates the vast complexity of religious faith. It makes sense if that one premise is true. Above I said, “if one accepts the premise that the theistic god exists, then anything is possible.” The reverse is also true, if one entertains the idea, even for the briefest of moments, that the theistic god does not exist, the folly of theism is revealed.
If your bubble bursts, as painful as that might be, congratulations! You have gained a new perspective.
Although everyone has a unique story, sometimes those stories can have striking similarities. Deconversion stories are no different. Sometimes they sound a lot like “I was born again” testimonies, “I was blind but now I see.” I love reading and especially listening to people’s deconversion stories and learning what was similar and what was different for each person. Deconversion stories are our origin stories.
This post will have two goals. One, to describe the similarities experienced by others who have deconverted and two, how to get the ball rolling if one wanted to proactively start the process. These proactive steps tend to be the causal steps that we took naturally unprompted.
I need to make clear up front, that the title is tongue in cheek. This post is really descriptive rather than prescriptive. Your experience may have been different, even radically so. Stages could be skipped, reordered or take longer or shorter than described. We are complex human beings and it is difficult to encapsulate the variety of human experience. This post is an attempt to describe the similarities during the process of deconversion.
I also hope this will be a living document. If you are reading this and have gone through the deconversion experience, please help me improve it. Please send me feedback. Send me any corrections or additions you might have. If you find it useful, please consider linking to it from you blog or site.
Note: The overwhelming initial feedback has been about the non-linear nature of deconversion. So, I will state this again. Your experience may be different and that is OK. This post is not to suggest this is the “right” way to experience deconversion it is merely an attempt to describe some commonalities.
Terms
First lets get some terms straight, as I see some confusion about the term deconversion. and this will help define the target audience. By deconversion I am referring to a person having had faith in a particular religion, and subsequently ceasing to be religious and rejecting faith of any kind.
It is significant that deconversion applies only to those people who once were religious. This seems obvious, but there are some unique experiences for those of us who were religious and then reject our faith. This is opposed to having been raised secular all of one’s life and becoming more activist in one’s secularism, humanism or atheism. Also opposed to, the probably more common, having been raised culturally of a particular religion but not having been an active participant. There just isn’t much to deconvert from in those cases.
Deconversion is also not just that we rejected our own faith, but all faiths. It is a unique experience to lose one’s faith and find oneself isolated from religious circles. In many cases, this can be the total loss of one’s social support system, as the newly deconverted loses relationships from the old faith and may have no one to replace those relationships.
Lastly, when I use the terms religion and faith, I am referring to the supernatural variety with a world view that presupposes something that transcends nature. I am well aware there are some non-supernatural religions out there. I like the term “graceful life philosophies” from Jennifer Michael Hecht’s book, Doubt, for these. We can debate, for example, whether humanism is a religion in another post. But these are the exception and not the rule.
What Deconversion is not
It might be helpful to contrast deconversion with what it is not.
Deconversion is not conversion. It is somewhat common for people to convert to a religion or from one religion to another religion. In the case of conversion, there is a new faith community that softens the loss of the old faith community. That is not the case with deconversion.
Deconversion is not just deconstruction. Deconstruction is often the process of becoming less fundamentalist in one’s faith. It usually entails the rejection of scriptures being inerrant or authoritative. Often, one’s theology is liberalized to accommodate the modern world. The key difference here is that typically (not always) the person is still a person of faith. This faith may be sophisticated and nuanced but it is faith none the less. It is very possible for deconstruction to be a step on the way to deconversion.
Before the process begins one is secure in one’s faith. The answers provided by the faith community and the sacred text(s) provide comfort and feelTrue. Sure, there may be a nagging question or two but that is for the theologians to debate up in their white towers.
At this point, cognitive dissonance is at a minimum, the avoidance or minimization of the problems are in full effect, and confirmation bias is at its maximum. There may be some questions best left unasked. Flat out denial is not out of the question.
Life comes at you fast. At this point, something, anything, can happen that makes you take a second look at some of your assumptions. Some deeply held belief might be invalidated. Something doesn’t quite feel right. The pat answers now sound pat. There has been a blip in the matrix.
For some the deep need for truth that led them to religion is the exact need that leads to doubt. It is not a coincidence that many who attain higher educational levels deconvert. Those with Masters in Divinity and PhDs in religion often go on to deconvert after learning just how the sausage gets made. In their quest for truth it is discovered that truth may lie somewhere outside of religion.
For some the precipitating events can be tragic: the loss of a loved one, hurt caused by the church or say half the country electing a demagogue in the name of god. For others it is the slow relentless grinding creep of doubt. But something causes you to start re-evaluating your beliefs.
This stage can be characterized by “calling out to god.” You might even feel guilty or to blame for these initial doubts even if they have arisen due to external circumstances.
“Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!”
–Mark 9:24
There may be an impetus to “double down.” You might redouble your efforts to pray more, read your scriptures more, rededicate yourself to god or pursue ministry with more dedication.
At this stage cognitive dissonance is starting to rise. Confirmation biases are just starting to show cracks. Precipitating events may cause brief periods of doubt but your faith tends to win out in the end and push the doubts away.
Proactive Steps
Read your sacred text(s). All of it. Even the boring parts. Read it without making excuses for what it literally states. Rather than wearing your rose colored glasses try reading it as an outsider.
Ask yourself the hard questions. Why is there suffering in the world? If god intervenes in the world, what does god’s silence mean?
Talk to a non-believer. Ask them to tell you honestly what they think about your beliefs and why.
At the critical mass stage, things are starting to pile up. Multiple precipitating events are happening at the same time. The doubts and questions are taking up a lot of mental energy to keep contained. Cognitive dissonance is becoming problematic. You find it difficult to keep the plates of faith spinning. Critical mass is death by 1000 paper cuts.
Believers call this “the dark night of the soul.” It is a time of serious doubt that threatens your faith. Believers assume this is a temporary stage. However, what if your doubts have validity?
The silence of god during this period can be deafening. Divine hiddenness begins to look strikingly similar to non-existence. The call out to god is increasingly desperate.
God, DO SOMETHING! ANYTHING!.
During this stage it is common to feel like you are doing something wrong. It can feel like you are not seeking god enough or not in the right way. The initial feelings of guilt from precipitating events can mount.
It is easier to blame yourself than to acknowledge the possibility that god is not real. A common response is the dreaded, “I must not be in god’s will,” as if “god’s will” were discernible. This will be particularly painful in religious traditions where many community members often claim to “know god’s will.”
As in the previous stage, there may be a renewed effort to “work harder,” but ultimately this is a delaying tactic. This is the beginning of the end. Cognitive dissonance is peaking. Confirmation bias is starting to fail. Doubt is a constant companion.
Proactive Steps
Make a list of all the things that are causing you to doubt.
Think about each item on the list and decide if it has validity.
Stop trying to keep the plates spinning and see what happens.
Answer the question, “What if it is not your fault?”
Up to this point the stages have been about things that happen to you not necessarily by choice. The permission to doubt stage is a proactive one. Consciously or subconsciously you give yourself permission to doubt. I particularly like the description of this stage from the ex-christian.net forum: Curiosity Killed The Cat.
The permission to doubt stage is a conscious acknowledgement that doubt is not your fault. It is the attempt at letting go of pent up guilt. It is the recognition that doubt cannot be denied or contained forever. Doubt must be addressed directly on its merits.
One description of deconversion is the gradual, even subconscious, raising of one’s standards of evidence until the weak, circumstantial, and special pleading nature of the faith tradition’s explanations becomes obvious.
At which point it all comes crashing down.
In “Letting Go of God”, Julia Sweeney describes this stage as putting on the “Not believing in God glasses.” What does the world look like if you do not assume god’s existence?
Depending on where you are at in this phase you may still identify as a believer. That is OK. But you are taking a more proactive examination of your faith. Or you may feel at this point things are going downhill fast and the outcome is a forgone conclusion. Either way you are taking active steps to learn and explore.
Doubt* is your subconsciousness telling you the truth.
*Religious doubt. I don’t think this is true for all non-religious cases. See for example the Dunning-Kruger effect.
Cognitive dissonance is either peaking at this point or already on the decline as you come to grips with the answers you discover. You may begin to recognize how confirmation bias has been fooling you.
Proactive Steps
Reverse the old believer’s advice to doubt your doubts and trust your doubts instead.
Can you find objective (non-subjective) reasons for your faith?
Can you find evidence that would convince a skeptic or yourself that god is real?
Let your curiosity guide you. Investigate the things you have been afraid or unwilling to explore. Read atheist books and blogs. Explore science that contradicts your faith like evolution and cosmology. What else has been off limits? Go check it out.
Deconstruction is the stage of the sophisticated believer and the liberal theologian. It is a rejection of puerile fundamentalism. At this stage you may actively start to reject elements of religious dogma without throwing the baby out with the bath water. It may be time to retire doctrines that no longer work in the modern world like inerrancy of scriptures, creationism or ancient social morality.
This stage is an embracing of science, education and modern ethics. It acknowledges the complicated world out there and the failure of fundamentalism to address that world. This stage can be a focus on the social gospel. People have become more important than religious dogma.
Often this stage is focused on reinterpreting the sacred texts. Escaping the tyranny of literal interpretation and exploring the metaphorical meaning to be found there. What are the supra-cultural truths these scriptures are pointing at?
Deconstruction may mean the complete redefinition of “god.” It may mean the move away from a theistic understanding of god to deism, pantheism or panpsychism. Rather than seeing god as a bearded angry man in the sky, she might be “the ground of all being,” or as in one famous example, the forces of nature themselves.
If the previous stage was permission to doubt, this stage takes doubt deadly seriously and is as far as one can go and still consider oneself a believer. This stage acknowledges that faith is an entirely subjective endeavor. It is possible to remain at this stage indefinitely at varying levels of faith and doubt.
In this stage and the next few I’ll use the analogy of a mathematical limit. As you approach the limit of unbelief, you probably still consider yourself a believer. Even while you are discarding elements of your faith, some kernel of faith remains when you are on this side of the limit. For the deconstructing believer the approach to that limit can be near infinite or take no time at all.
Proactive Steps
Take an inventory of your religious doctrines and determine which are literally true, which are figuratively true and which are completely false.
Answer the question for yourself, “who or what is god?”
Answer the question, “what parts of my religious beliefs apply to helping those less fortunate than myself?”
Ryan Bell describes the liminal stage as that between faith and unbelief. I have added this pseudo stage to acknowledged that faith is not always binary. There can legitimately be a time of in between.
Continuing with the mathematical limit analogy, this is the infinitesimal approach to the limit of unbelief. For those less mathematically inclined a better analogy is jumping off a diving board into a pool of water. The moment you lose contact with the diving board until you have hit the water is the liminal stage. Faith is gone at the loss of contact, but you are not wet (an unbeliever) yet until you hit the water.
Contrary to the analogies, some may waver back and forth in this in between state.
It may take years, months, days or just moments to come to the realization that you no longer believe. You may have been in denial for some time or it may hit you like lightning. At some point you are honest with yourself and admit to yourself you no longer believe.
The mathematical limit of unbelief has been crossed. Belief is not a choice. You are either convinced of the truth of a faith claim or not. At this stage, you are no longer convinced of the truth of god. You are a non-believer.
You may continue to go through the religious motions for some time after you have acknowledged your lack of faith either out of habit or necessity. Not a problem. You may find yourself starting to pray only to be jolted back to reality. Old habits die hard.
At this point you may be unable, unwilling or incapable of telling another human being. That is OK. You do not owe anyone anything.
Your safety is the highest priority. If you live in a culture where it is dangerous to be an non-believer, it is not your job to fix this by outing yourself and putting your safety in jeopardy. If you are young and living with parents who might possibly remove you from the home, you are not required to tell them. Keep it to yourself.
But you do owe it to yourself to be rigorously honest with yourself and no longer pretend internally. Recognize how confirmation bias has worked against you in the past. Notice that cognitive dissonance has flat lined after admitting this to yourself.
Ironically, the experience is not unlike being born again. The scales fall off the eyes so to speak. For me personally, I had a literal “Oh, shit” moment of realization.
Proactive Steps
Start enjoying your mental freedom and the peace of letting cognitive dissonance go.
Actively read other deconversion stories to recognize you are not alone in this process.
Begin making a plan. Can you tell anyone? Who are you going to tell first?
Deconversion is an emotional experience. It has been described by Brian Peck of the Healthy Deconversion Project as very similar to the grieving process of losing a loved one. You might experience any number of emotions as you grieve the loss of your god, your faith and your religious community. That is a lot of loss and can lead to a wide range of emotions. The point is there is no “right” way to feel and no emotion that is “wrong.” Give yourself permission to feel and take as much time as you need. This is a chaotic time. Give yourself some secular grace as you navigate new terrain.
Anger, depression, guilt and even bargaining with a non-existent god are all normal. What order and how long you experience these or any other emotions is an unknown. There is no need to rush and definitely no need to beat yourself up when it feels like you are starting all over again.
The above are all fairly well known emotions during loss of any kind. I want to highlight a few emotions that are specific to the deconversion process.
The first is the loss of the sense of control. As a believer, there was always something you could do when in need. You could pray. Regardless of distance or your own ability, you could respond to difficulty by calling out to your all powerful god. The first time a tragedy strikes during or after your deconversion, whether it is out in the world or close to home, the overwhelming feeling will be of powerlessness. In the short term, this is painful. In the long term, this is healthy. Learning what you can and cannot control is a part of facing the world as it is not as you wish it to be.
The second is the shame at your previous gullibility. (Maybe this is just me.) As you learn about science, philosophy and ethics, your previously held reasons for believing may become increasing distant. How could I have believed these things? How could I have been fooled by these poor arguments? Remember, that when you are in the bubble, everything seems to make sense. It is only now, outside the bubble, that you see clearly the logical mistakes.
Finally, the feeling of loneliness can be overwhelming. You may not be able to discuss your deconversion with your family or friends. Your social support structure may be off limits on this topic. If you do not happen to live in a larger city, there may be few opportunities for secular community. The main thing to remember is that you are not alone. I’ll say this again in all caps:
YOU ARE NOT ALONE!
Many have gone through this process before you. You do not have to go through it by yourself.
Proactive Steps
Reach out. If you have a non-believing friend. Run to them! If not, there are plenty of resources online as well as a large community of non-believers. Engage, ask questions and don’t hesitate to ask for help.
“I would rather have questions that can’t be answered than answers that can’t be questioned.”
You are a baby not-a-believer. Soak up knowledge like a sponge. All of the things that were off limits, considered “liberal” or “worldly” are now on the table for investigation.
This includes reexamining your religious texts and apologists. I re-read many apologists just to make sure I had not missed something. I had not. How were they convincing before? Are they now? I occasionally crack open the bible to re-read one passage or another to see it with new eyes. What does your religion’s sacred text sound like to your non-believing ears?
Discovering secular thinkers is a valuable process. It reminds you that you are not alone in your deconversion. It may also teach you ways of thinking and explanations for your new found lack of faith. You are not obligated to believe anything. What freedom! You decide for yourself what you believe and why.
You may still be in the closet at this stage. That is OK. Take your time and learn.
Proactive Steps
Learn some science. The scientific method and falsifiability are great tools for seeking truth.
Read. If you are a reader this is the time to go nuts. Read atheists. Read apologists for your religion. Read scientists, philosophers and ethical thinkers.
It may take a while but eventually you will probably tell someone about your deconversion. Admitting your lack of faith to another human being is immensely cathartic.
I’ll re-iterate here that safety is priority number one. There is no shame in staying in the closet indefinitely if your safety is an issue. But if you can safely do so, telling another person will be a beneficial step.
Consider carefully who you tell and how you tell them. You are not obligated to publicly post on Facebook for all the world to read. Even in places where non-belief is not a safety concern there may be employment, school or community implications. You also don’t owe an explanation to your third grade teacher or your second cousin once removed. Think carefully and take time during this process. Start with people you trust and tell only the people who need to know.
Oddly, sometimes the easiest first step is to talk to a stranger. Maybe someone you meet online who is not vested in your faith one way or the other.
When telling family members and close friends remember as Brian Peck has said, “They are at step zero.” Your deconversion process could have been years in the making. You have done the doubting, the questioning, the searching, the grieving and the information gathering. Your family member has not. They are starting from ground zero and this is going to hit them like a ton of bricks. They are likely to react defensively. Tread lightly.
Except in the case of abusive relationships you probably want to maintain the relationship. You may need to be the bigger more humble person in this process. This can be challenging on a number of fronts. You may still be angry. Your newly acquired knowledge mixed with a new disrespect or hostility for faith can be an intoxicating combination that may lead you to say things you might regret. Plan out what you want to say and expect push back and defensiveness from your loved one. Try to give them the secular grace you needed during your deconversion process.
It is a process. Particularly in the case of a spouse, this is unlikely to be a single conversation but rather a lengthy back and forth. Be patient and encourage your loved one to ask you questions. Try to remember how convinced you were when you were a believer and remember that is where they are at now.
Keep in mind it is not your job to convince them to abandon their faith. Your goal is to keep the relationship. There will be some natural tension. Remember that to the believer casting doubt on their beliefs is perceived as a direct attack on them and their identity. Love is hard.
Someday you might find that you do want the world to know. If it is safe to do so and you have considered the implications, knock yourself out, make that public Facebook post. If it is the right time write the email bcc to all. Tell the world. The more people who are “out” the easier it is for others to do the same.
Proactive Steps
Read other “coming out” stories. This includes the wisdom of the LGBTQ community.
Read “letter to my family” posts. Many deconverted have taken the time to write down their thoughts on what they want their family to know about their new lack of belief.
Write your own letter. This will allow you to plan out the things you want to say.
Be gentle. Try to show the kind of patient loving kindness you would want if the roles were reversed.
This is the big question. Ceasing to believe is really only the beginning not an end to itself. Just because you no longer believe in a god does not mean you do not need human connection and belonging. Your religion likely provided more than just doctrine and dogma it also provided community. One of your first tasks should be to find a secular community that meets the very human need to be a part of a group.
Religion does not own awe, wonder, gratitude or morality. You are the same person you were before deconversion. Likely your morality has remained mostly unchanged, other than having more freedom and less guilt. This is your chance to seek out and express where you find meaning. Ask yourself and try to answer:
What is my source of morality?
Where do I find meaning?
How can I experience awe?
How can I give back?
For me, secular humanism provides an answer to several of the above questions. You may or may not find humanism useful. That is not a problem. You get to discover and answer these questions for yourself.
Proactive Steps
Try the Belief-O-Matic online quiz. This will give you a quick feel for how your current beliefs line up with other organized religious, ethical and philosophical groups.
Study morality and ethics. There is a rich history of non-religious philosophy on ethics. Many times this has been off limits and is new information after deconversion.
Participate online. Twitter and Facebook are full of secular groups. This is an easy way to dip your toe in and see if a group is right for you. Try starting your own blog and documenting your deconversion process.
Give back. Find a way to give back to the world. Without a religious framework this one can easily slip through the cracks. Ethical societies are a good way to keep motivated to give back to the community. This is as much for you as it is for those served.
Conclusion
It goes without saying, that your experience may be different than what is described above. Great! You are a unique human being that is to be expected. Maybe things are out of order or you skipped multiple steps. Maybe you stayed in one stage for a long time. There is no right way to deconvert. We are all learning as we go. The purpose of this document is solely to provide some comfort in knowing that others have gone through this before you.
As I stated at the top, I would like this to be a living document. So, if I got something wrong or an important step is missing, please let me know and I’ll update this post. Your experience is valuable and might help others so don’t hesitate to send me update requests. If you think others will find it helpful, please consider linking to it from you blog or site.
Finally, I am interested in your deconversion story. If you need a random stranger to tell, I am here. If you need to write out your story, send it my way. And, if you are interested and willing, let me know and I will post your deconversion story to the blog.
To hear the deconversion stories of others checkout the podcast and Deconversion Anonymous episodes. In these episodes, people like you who have gone through a faith transition can tell their stories anonymously or for all to see. It is your choice. If you would like to tell your faith transition story anonymously or otherwise get in touch with me at gracefulatheist@gmail.com or @GracefulAtheist on Twitter.
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