The Gospel of Divorce

An old axiom prescribes that one should never meet their hero, in fear that the meeting might be less than spectacular. That your hero could somehow let you down and change your course of action in life.

It’s a depressing thought, spending your entire life idolizing and loving someone only to find out that they’re not who you really wanted them to be. Some of it is selfish, yes one shouldn’t expect a human being to be anything other than a human being but, what happens when one comes face to face with God?

Maybe not possible but, a common consensus seems to be that the closest way one can get to God is through organized religion. It’s an open door to knowledge, salvation and acceptance and to be apart of it one would have to marry the religion. An undying, unconditional devotion to one religion.

I knew this, I knew this from an early age. My family was married to a religion, Jesus Christ was our absolute savior and ultimate patriarch, I was married through birth but, somewhere down the line, when I wanted answers, when I sought out God on my own terms I realize that I had to divorce myself in order to learn anything.

My divorce from religion wasn’t instant, it was a gradual fall from religious grace. As I pondered the typical hypothetical and philosophical questions I found no one in my religion had any answers that didn’t seem contrived or derived from some sort of comforting lie.

I was in pain watching the world flow the way it was under my religion. It didn’t make sense that I could bow to the whim of a being of ultimate power but, that being couldn’t or wouldn’t stop the suffering I saw before my eyes.

How could I be morally expected to support a system that claimed power and dominion over all but, did not stop the madness that seemed pointless?

Even more disheartening was that the religion had somehow turned it’s back on me. I watched as people quoted scriptures and passages explaining why I was an abomination of epic proportions. I knew that these people were using the religion but still. How could my God allow them to do such a thing? Not only was their poison infecting the name of the religion, it was sieging my life and stalling it.

And so the slow divorce started and it was painful. Suddenly everything I believed in was thrown into question, I went from feeling as if I knew the most important things, to not being sure about anything.  I didn’t resort to Atheism though; I became aware that not knowing anything wasn’t as horrible as it initially sounded. I accepted that things may be that I could never really understand, or things may be just as I see it in the world with my own two eyes. I had no reason to believe one over the other both seem, wholly possible so I accepted not knowing anything and allowing myself the room to learn if it were possible.

So I divorced myself from religion, while it claimed to have answers I claimed that nothing could have all the answers, or any answers.  Religion, to me, wished to teach in confines, to teach everything within its knowledge but, I wished to learn as much as I could from an infinite source: experience.

Could I honestly anger God by seeking it out on my own by looking at His or Her world with my own eyes and not by the words of some ‘prophet’ that may or may not be a liar?

Should my faith be in man or in the evidence before my eyes?

So I filed in my mind, for fraud religion is not what I thought it was going to be. I feel more comfortable now but, it is a dubious achievement to say the least.

Remember you can find me on Facebook and Twitter at: Facebook.com/Raganork8

Twitter.com/KeithBCovington

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