(The following was from a writing assignment for Religion 101 at N.C. Wesleyan College.)
I don't remember exactly at what point in my youth I stopped believing in Christianity. It did not happen overnight. It faded away, much the same way the light of the day can slip away unnoticed at sunset... unnoticed until the darkness determines one's path. I was a rather cynical kid growing up. As I grew in my thoughts and philosophies, I began to wonder if not just my hometown religion but all religions were wrong. How could any organization have all the answers?
I never became a complete atheist. I guess I could have been called a deist or agnostic. Agnostics are just frightened atheists, and deists are just frightened agnostics. I believed there was a higher power, but I felt there was no way anyone could know the thoughts or intents of a being that clearly must be miles beyond all human comprehension. Having said that, I did not really give religion a whole lot of thought. Typical of being a teenager, I was wrapped up in my immediate life around me.
Interestingly though, I do not really know why I did maintain my belief in that higher power. I have always been scientifically oriented. We live in a time where society largely believes that science will have all the answers. Yet, I took on the popular view that such a complex and beautiful universe had to have a master designer. Something (or someone) had to have started the Big Bang, right? Perhaps I only believed in a deity for no other reason than that it was convenient.
During my teenage years I was quite a lonely kid. I was very shy and had always been the target of bullies. I had few friends, though that did not really bother me. What bothered me was that I could never seem to get a girlfriend. To not have been in a relationship by driving age was very unusual. In my little hometown, people hooked up like magnetic marbles. I began to develop a bad case of jealously. During autumn when I turned sixteen, two of my closest friends became girlfriend and boyfriend. Talk about having it rubbed in your face! For clarification I wasn't craving sex (not completely), just companionship.
As the days got shorter and closer to Christmas, I became increasingly wrapped up in my self-pity. I was getting rather disgusted at the holiday season. The world seemed to cater to couples and families during this time. It made me think about the emptiness inside me, an emptiness that I thought could be filled by "true love"! What's the point in celebrating anything by yourself? Restaurants don't have tables smaller than two. Cards and gifts are exchanged between people, not with yourself. Cars even put a passenger seat next to the driver. And all the Christmas music commercials on TV showed happy cute couples cuddling in the warmth of the season. Besides, that holiday had become nothing more than a celebration of consumption. It was about buying and getting, nothing more. I didn't want any part of Christmas.
I had learned at a very early age that Santa was fictional. It didn't bother me. What I treasured as a young child was the feeling that I got around Christmas. As a kid I could not describe it, and even today I am hard pressed to find the right words. I remember riding in the car back from a late Christmas Eve service. The night was crisp and clear. There seemed to be extra stars in the sky that night. I wondered what the Christmas star must have looked like, and about those who followed it and why. I was so very content. I pictured for just that night there was no fighting in the world, and that everybody everywhere felt the way I did. I was filled with a sense of warmth and protection better than any coat could provide. I didn't know what it was, nor did I try to figure it out. I just knew that it was Christmas.
But I lost it. I wanted to find that feeling again every Christmas, but it just wouldn't show up. It was gone. The first year, I thought that I had just lost it; that I would just have to catch it next year. A year later, I realized that I might never find it again. By the time I was sixteen I had given up. I just chalked it up to childish fantasies. On this Christmas Eve, I was invited to a party. I didn't want to go. It was at the house of one of my closest friends, the one who was dating my other close friend. It was nice of her family to invite me. Unfortunately, I was not in the mood to watch her parents being a cute couple, her older sister being in love with her betrothed, her older bother sitting with his girlfriend (and future wife), and my friend holding hands with her boyfriend. There I was, making the number of attending odd. At this point I had great sympathy for The Grinch. I just wanted to skip the next few days. I even tried to make myself feel better by thinking about the stuff that I would get the next morning... but I was far too bitter by this point.
I left the party early. I just wanted to go to bed. However, my mom made me go with her and my dad to the midnight Christmas Eve service. I tried to protest, but I went anyway, carrying a rather large chip on my shoulder. Even though I was famous for being a night owl, I was actually tired, even exhausted, that night. I just sat there in the mostly empty church in kind of a daze. To this day I don't remember much of the service or what was said from the pulpit. Though I do remember after the sermon coming to the realization that I had missed a point somewhere. I think I was halfway paying attention to the minister. It had occurred to me that I was upset for the wrong reasons. Christmas was not about buying and getting, about being with the one you are in love with, nor about any of the stuff that we mark the season with. It was a birthday. I marveled at my realization of the simplicity of it. We are celebrating somebody's birthday... His birthday. I still had the emptiness in me. I hoped that my revelation would fill the void, but I actually felt worse. I now was overwhelmed with a profound sense of loneliness. It was more than just standing in a desert; it was a loneliness that sucked the air out of my lungs. I had figured out the lesson, right? I learned I was wrong. So why did I feel worse? Was I never to get that childhood Christmas feeling back?
It was midnight. I was alone. I was in bed tired but wide awake. It was technically Christmas Day. Feeling like that at any other time I would have just called one of my friends. A phone call to a friend is a great cure for most teenage problems, but it was too late to call anyone, especially on Christmas. I lay there, in awe of the vast vacuum that I was in. Then, the phone rang.
I was so surprised. Before picking it up, I knew it was her, my friend. Without thought, I actually said out loud as I reached for the phone, "There is a God." She was just calling to chat, and it was exactly what I needed. I don't remember what we talked about, and it doesn't really matter. I just knew that it was His way of answering my prayer. And what a divine love it is, to answer my prayer that I never prayed for in the first place. It was the best Christmas present I could ever receive.
That was over ten years ago. The void has been filled, and I began a journey. I'm still on that journey, trying to learn more about my faith, the history of the Church, and how to be a better Christian. I do not think that my faith would be as strong if I came to it though biblical study or ardent church attendance. It came directly from Him. I feel that this is where it has to begin. It has to start with true humility. It has to start within yourself standing in the desert.
J Ian Wilson
28 - november - 2001