If you\’ve been reading along, by now you may have noticed a hint of disdain regarding the topic of Christianity. I\’ve mentioned several times the negative impact that this religion has had on the world and humanity. I am all for freedom of religion and each person\’s right to follow their own path. Unfortunately, a handful of religions, Christianity being at the top of that list, frequently impede on the religious freedoms of others, even going so far as to taking lives in the name of their God.
Given my stance on the matter, it might surprise you to learn that I was once a devout, bible-thumping, evangelizing born-again Christian. When I told you my backstory in the first few posts, it was a very high level view, skipping over a number of less general details; this being one of them.
I was a sophomore in High School. Like a lot of kids, I had always struggled to fit in. I was a good-hearted kid, smart, naively optimistic, and woefully awkward. When you talk to spirits and collect magic rocks, it doesn\’t make things any easier.
For several weeks, my friend and I had been repeatedly invited by a coworker to come to her church\’s youth group. \”It\’s just like a small concert\”, she told us. Finally, we decided to go and check it out. I had always been a music enthusiast and had been playing guitar since I could hold one, so I figured why not.
I\’ll never forget the night we walked into the big wooden sanctuary. The band on stage had electric guitars and distortion pedals. The music was actual rock. Most of the group was our age. I immediately realized I recognized several faces. People who I had gone to school with as a grade schooler but hadn\’t seen since. They were some of the popular kids. The ones that I always wanted to be associated with…just to be able to fit in and have my own tribe.
When the song ended, our coworker introduced us to the group and we were immediately welcomed and greeted warmly. The popular kids I knew from grade school said they already knew me and greeted me like family, hugs and all. It was so weird but I wanted to see what this was. Could it be real?
When we left that day, my friend immediately saw it was a cult. He never came back. I, however, had been sucked in. I came back. And again. Soon, I was in the band. I was hearing their take on Christianity and it was all about love, and peace, and forgiveness. These things matched my own values. They told me how humanity is flawed and that we are all sinful, all unworthy of heaven. That God\’s love for us was the only thing that could save us from the Hell that we all deserve… I drank the Kool Aid … Hard.
One fall weekend, the males of the youth group were taking a \”Men\’s Retreat\”, an overnight camping trip on the lake. I remember that night, most of the group had gone to sleep. I sat on the dock with our youth group leader and another young man, one of the ones from my grade school days that would soon become like a brother to me. We discussed the bible and Jesus. We talked about the theology of their particular sect of Christianity. We talked about Heaven and Hell, and the road that separates them.
I don\’t know what I was feeling. Some would say it was dopamine from the feeling of brotherhood that I had always longed for. Some would say it was the Holy Spirit. Some would say it was cult brainwashing. Whatever it was, it caused me to take the big step. I took into my hand the crystal and key that I wore around my neck. These were my Arcane Foci, the objects I had attuned with to concentrate all of my Magickal acts through. It was the very symbol of my status as a magician. It may have been the state I was in, but to this day, I swear I could feel the necklace throbbing in my hand. After a pause, I yanked the cord from my neck and cast the necklace into the lake. It was a symbolic gesture that I had made a choice: I was turning from my pagan ways and had chosen to walk with Christ. I knelt down on the dock and closed my eyes. The other two, recognizing what this was, immediately took my hands and began praying aloud. When they reached a point where it felt right, I jumped in and began praying aloud, asking for Jesus to accept me and, in so many words, contracting my life and soul to him.
When it was through I opened my eyes and the world had changed. My vision blurred and the sounds around me were overwhelming. I felt as though we were surrounded by angels. I had become a Christian. My Magick was denounced.
As time went on, I became a prominent member of our church, I became the president of the school\’s Christian club. I healed many people through Christ. I brought so many more people into the flock. I was preparing to go to seminary to be a minister. But something was off.
I realized that maybe they didn\’t have everything figured out. The people who had once seemed enlightened to me, were just as much driven by selfish desires as everyone else, maybe more so. The in-fighting caused the church to split off, each thinking their own version was right. Most of the time it wasn\’t even about the theology, but instead for personal interests. I had found a family but it was treacherous. I had gained a faith, but had lost my Magick. I still saw spirits, but the link was severed. My gifts were gone. I also realized there had been a change in me. My once hoplessly-optimistic self had become proud and judgemental. My humility had been conquered by egotism and arrogance. I had become a loathsome version of myself.
I won\’t go into the details of the final straw because this isn\’t the place for a religious debate, but suffice it to say there were details about the Christian faith that to me seemed cruel and even evil. I took a long walk late at night. I walked with God for hours, angry and hopeless. I aired my grievance and begged for some kind of clarity. I wanted God to show me I was wrong. I was shown the opposite. My concerns were reinforced. That night, I told God that I would rather burn in Hell with the damned than sit in Heaven with the forgiven.
I was now lost, adrift in the cosmos. Where once I had known my place, I had walked between worlds and spoken with ancient beings, I was now alone. I bet on Christianity and gave up who I was for it. I had been wrong. But the spirits were still there. They were still watching over me, guiding me. I just had forgotten how to connect. I took to practicing. It had been years and I had burned all of my old journals and tools ( Christians and their burning things ). I was starting from scratch. But I was born for this. Even my youth group leader had once confided that he felt electrical energy surging from me like he had never felt before. I pushed and I studied …and I began to remember.
I had to earn it back, but almost everything that I had turned my back on I was able to recover. I am telling you this story because one of the most beautiful things about witchcraft is that we don\’t discourage thinking for yourself. We want you to question things. We want you to go out and see what other beliefs have to offer. Do what feels right to you. At the end of your journey, if you find that here is where you have belonged the whole time we will welcome you back with open arms. Magick doesn\’t hold grudges and doesn\’t discourage experimentation and exploration. Magick encourages it.
Go. Look around. Try on some other belief systems. See how they feel. You may find something that resonates with you, or maybe you\’ll come to learn that your tribe was right here all along, waiting for you to find out for yourself.