Faith, Doubt, and My Neurotic Need for Certainty

I feel like my brain is broken in the “believing” bits.  I don’t even know what faith is anymore, much less the specifics of anything resembling a theology.  Perhaps the damage comes from the fucked-up marriage of C-PTSD and OCD… hurt at the hands of Christian leaders upon a person with the “doubting disease”.  I just cannot believe anymore.  Still, I persist in whatever belief that I can maintain.  I go to Communion to receive Jesus’ Body and Blood (I hope?) and I pray the prayers of others as I can no longer pray my own.  I just need to be content with that…

Someone warned be recently about where my thinking has been leading me, calling it dangerous, warning me about throwing the baby out with the bathwater… when the baby keeps shitting the bathtub, perhaps the baby is the problem…

I have realized something recently.  I’ve been tortured by fears of losing my faith, of being outside of God’s love (if He/She is even there), of being damned.  Yet, I think I’ve already ditched it (such as I was taught, such as it’s always been).  It has died on the vine, cut-off at the root.  I’ve said that if the beliefs I was raised with are Christianity, then I don’t want to, and cannot, be a Christian anymore.  Thus, my whole understanding of Christianity has already flown the coop.  If that’s all I knew of faith, and I cannot in that anymore, then that faith is dead.  Gone forever.  So, what next?  Perhaps that’s been my path all along.  Perhaps a new form of faith and belief has been growing beneath the surface.  Then again, perhaps not…

Friends tell me to ease up, that my suffering is the proof of faith’s growth.  Sounds like bullshit to me.  It seems more acceptable to talk about doubt, but its always under the banal shade of a “wink, wink, nudge, nudge”.  You doubt, but that just proves the veracity of your faith.  But what if that doubt is really, truly disbelief and you believe that the Bible is full of shit and that the church is simply a collection of pietistic assholes and that that’s not a noble thing or a proof of misguided Divine Love?  What if you really do believe that God (if He exists) is just a tormenting prick, getting-off on pain  and hurt and that Jesus is just the Church’s lick-spittle?  Is that still the doubting bit of faith?…  Then, most fucked-up of all, the next morning, you believe all of the major elements of Orthodox Christianity, and doubt feels just like a bad dream…

It’s like I am Two.  Warring, fighting.  Never finding what we’re after.  Never arriving home.  Always wandering, never finished, always seeking…

I want a simple faith.  Not simplistic or ignorant or lazy or naive, but a faith that holds to simple truths, that is secure enough in simple truths to be open about the rest.  A faith that is comfortable with doubt and complexity and uncertainty and that is loose enough not to be offended…

Church services are such fucking dog-and-pony shows.  The emperor is naked, his hairy ass is glowing and no one says anything about it.   We mumble hymns and call it worship.  We parrot tripe and call it prayer.  We attend to the sermon and call it  God’s Word.  We’re all disingenuous fakers and we wander why no one comes or cares…

(featured image source)

 

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