I went from having nothing and no one to having a steady family who love and support me
So. Let me tell you a little not-so-secret. That is precisely how I used to get people to convert to Mormonism, when I was a Mormon missionary. The people most vulnerable to conversion were people that were in the middle of shitty life circumstances, and had no social support network. We would love-carpet-bomb them shit out of them; we would talk to them several times a week, we would make sure that member in the local ward–which is the basic congregation for Mormons is called–reached out to them, invite them to church activities to meet people, and would inundate them with religious nonsense. All the while, we were implying that if they were just willing to believe the nonsense, then this large, ready-made family-slash-social-support-network could be theirs. But if they didn’t convert, we were going to leave them, and they’d be alone again. Unsurprisingly, this didn’t work for shit with people that had large networks and strong families, because they didn’t have any need for what we could offer. The people without support would mistake the good feelings about the community for being god telling them that the religious nonsense was true.
And it goes the other way too; the Mormon church keeps people so busy doing church things that Mormons probably won’t have any non-Mormon confidants. That, in turn, makes leaving very, very hard.
So, ask yourself, and be honest: would you have converted if you had had strong friends that already loved and supported you? If you had met similarly supportive people that were Muslim, Jewish, or members of the Satanic Temple (and my local TST groups has some pretty great people that are genuinely kind, loving, and open), would you have chosen to convert to Christianity?
For the sake of brevity, I summarized my experience in joining the church, but to answer your question, yes, I would have still joined regardless.
When I said I have “no one”, I was at a place where I felt alone despite being in a “room full of people”. I wasn’t a loner with no friends, but I was spiritually empty and something was missing; I just wasn’t fulfilled.
No one converted me to Christianity, though. No one even asked me to join the church. I felt a “pull”, for lack of a better word and I made the decision to join.
I will say this, however: the black American church is far different from Catholic, Protestant, Southern Baptist, and especially the Mormon church. There’s a completely different style of teaching and worship that is inherently different due to its original purpose and its history. The difference is so drastic that it doesn’t surprise me that people become agnostic or atheist after coming up in those environments because - at least from my own observations - the worship is so structured that it loses value and the teachings don’t appear to be as applicable to a modern age. Again, just my observation.
So, to reiterate, I turned from my deep agnosticism to Christianity on my own. I’m fully aware of the concept of “You are not immune to propaganda”. I’m also not ignorant of the deficiencies in the church. I happen to be relatively fortunate in my church. There are still some black churches who will make a girl who gets pregnant stand up in front of the congregation and apologize for what she’s done. There are many black churches that will outwardly admonish gays, while the pastor is having an affair with the choir director. The best I can do there is not affiliate and remain vocal about why I won’t.
My old pastor once laid out an edict that his lady ushers all had to wear skirts or dresses when they ushered. I ushered at the time and wore a nice pant suit, and so when he said that, I sat down. He eventually asked my why I stopped ushering and I told him, that he’s free to run his church how he sees fit, but I don’t have to participate where he’s laying down sexist rules that don’t align with the Word. Shortly afterward, he lifted the rule.
I provide the above story to highlight my experience with my faith. The way I see it, just because some people want to distort and misuse the Bible and Christianity, doesn’t mean that there isn’t any good within it. I’ve read the Bible; I’ve taught it, I’ve questioned it. I find the ironies fascinating, like the idea that God thought of David as a man after His own heart, when this is the same David who had an affair with his best friend and top general’s wife, and then had his friend killed when it became apparent that he wouldn’t be able to conceal the affair. This act doesn’t negate all of David’s writings, however.
Faith is complicated, and it should be adaptable, but let me reassure you that I wasn’t “taken in” by proselytizing Christians. I felt a need for more and I made the willful step to learn, to understand, and thoroughly appreciate what I accepted as my faith.
So. Let me tell you a little not-so-secret. That is precisely how I used to get people to convert to Mormonism, when I was a Mormon missionary. The people most vulnerable to conversion were people that were in the middle of shitty life circumstances, and had no social support network. We would love-carpet-bomb them shit out of them; we would talk to them several times a week, we would make sure that member in the local ward–which is the basic congregation for Mormons is called–reached out to them, invite them to church activities to meet people, and would inundate them with religious nonsense. All the while, we were implying that if they were just willing to believe the nonsense, then this large, ready-made family-slash-social-support-network could be theirs. But if they didn’t convert, we were going to leave them, and they’d be alone again. Unsurprisingly, this didn’t work for shit with people that had large networks and strong families, because they didn’t have any need for what we could offer. The people without support would mistake the good feelings about the community for being god telling them that the religious nonsense was true.
And it goes the other way too; the Mormon church keeps people so busy doing church things that Mormons probably won’t have any non-Mormon confidants. That, in turn, makes leaving very, very hard.
So, ask yourself, and be honest: would you have converted if you had had strong friends that already loved and supported you? If you had met similarly supportive people that were Muslim, Jewish, or members of the Satanic Temple (and my local TST groups has some pretty great people that are genuinely kind, loving, and open), would you have chosen to convert to Christianity?
For the sake of brevity, I summarized my experience in joining the church, but to answer your question, yes, I would have still joined regardless.
When I said I have “no one”, I was at a place where I felt alone despite being in a “room full of people”. I wasn’t a loner with no friends, but I was spiritually empty and something was missing; I just wasn’t fulfilled.
No one converted me to Christianity, though. No one even asked me to join the church. I felt a “pull”, for lack of a better word and I made the decision to join.
I will say this, however: the black American church is far different from Catholic, Protestant, Southern Baptist, and especially the Mormon church. There’s a completely different style of teaching and worship that is inherently different due to its original purpose and its history. The difference is so drastic that it doesn’t surprise me that people become agnostic or atheist after coming up in those environments because - at least from my own observations - the worship is so structured that it loses value and the teachings don’t appear to be as applicable to a modern age. Again, just my observation.
So, to reiterate, I turned from my deep agnosticism to Christianity on my own. I’m fully aware of the concept of “You are not immune to propaganda”. I’m also not ignorant of the deficiencies in the church. I happen to be relatively fortunate in my church. There are still some black churches who will make a girl who gets pregnant stand up in front of the congregation and apologize for what she’s done. There are many black churches that will outwardly admonish gays, while the pastor is having an affair with the choir director. The best I can do there is not affiliate and remain vocal about why I won’t.
My old pastor once laid out an edict that his lady ushers all had to wear skirts or dresses when they ushered. I ushered at the time and wore a nice pant suit, and so when he said that, I sat down. He eventually asked my why I stopped ushering and I told him, that he’s free to run his church how he sees fit, but I don’t have to participate where he’s laying down sexist rules that don’t align with the Word. Shortly afterward, he lifted the rule.
I provide the above story to highlight my experience with my faith. The way I see it, just because some people want to distort and misuse the Bible and Christianity, doesn’t mean that there isn’t any good within it. I’ve read the Bible; I’ve taught it, I’ve questioned it. I find the ironies fascinating, like the idea that God thought of David as a man after His own heart, when this is the same David who had an affair with his best friend and top general’s wife, and then had his friend killed when it became apparent that he wouldn’t be able to conceal the affair. This act doesn’t negate all of David’s writings, however.
Faith is complicated, and it should be adaptable, but let me reassure you that I wasn’t “taken in” by proselytizing Christians. I felt a need for more and I made the willful step to learn, to understand, and thoroughly appreciate what I accepted as my faith.