I check-marked the atheist/agnostic box for every ACT order form, college application and scholarship essay. I boasted about my separation from organized religion.
I enjoyed the confused stares when I revealed that I did not know the story of Abraham or asked, “Did they really spear Jesus after crucifying him?” In the back of my head was Leslie from, “The Bridge to Terabithia,” who was more creative because she was not told what to believe.
I grew up in the midst of the Bible Belt. People prayed before eating lunch, before speech tournaments and spelling tests.
“Does your family even go to church?” I was asked by classmates who lived in a town more populated with cows and tobacco than people. I was told, “You and your family are going to hell,” starting when I was 12.
Even worse were the Bibles that stacked in my closet, bought at the Dollar Store when a new friend told her mom my family did not attend church.
I was told I should eat meat because animals do not matter like people do. That my gay friends were going to hell. That I would join them because of my tattoos. That you can hurt people as long as you went to church once a week. That you should be afraid of God. That people could be devotedly religious but vote against welfare and ObamaCare. That you could not believe in evolution and God.
By the time I was finishing elementary school, after years of not attending church, I decided I no longer wanted to call myself a Christian.
So when I saw a Bible on my boyfriend’s bedside table, my heart fell. I imagined him shoving me outside his apartment before I could explain what I meant by “I’m agnostic.”
I imagined him calling his parents to tell them about the mistake he had made. I never imagined him shrugging and explaining that I seem to have the same morals as a Christian and that I should give church a try sometime.
Shocked that we were still dating, I told him I would go for Christmas. I was more shocked when I went and the sermon, and the months of sermons I attended afterward, differed dramatically from the “believe or else” message I was used to hearing.
However, even after looking forward to church and not finding anything in the Bible that I actually disagree with, I still think of the people I grew up with who used religion as a jail-free pass.
I feel like it matters more to be kind to ourselves, others and the environment than to label ourselves as Christian and not practice what it means.