Freedom OUT of Christ

The topic of finding freedom in Christ was discussed before on this blog. It is a wonderful post examining verses in Colossians 2. It is wonderful for Christians who are still part of a faith that had been used to beat them down. Personally, I ask why one should remain a Christian when all one has ever known is crushing legalism? Colossians has a good thing to say about legalism in the Church; remember that the epistles were written by Paul (allegedly) to various churches so that they would behave.

But what if you are not a Christian? I say our job is much easier in a sense. We don’t have to worry about our soul’s eternal damnation if we don’t have a Quiet Time every day or exercise 4+ times a week. Though, I suppose it depends on which religion, if any, you ran to after your departure. Since I ultimately shifted to no religion (well, actually Dudeism but practically none) then objectively the burden of being a Christian is moot. This came in handy when I tried reconciling homosexuality with my faith. “Can Christians be gay? Is it okay that people are allowed to be homo?” were a couple of questions I had. I read some interesting passages and people in the Bible (namely David and Jonathan, Naomi and Ruth) but kind of hit a dead end. Then I left the faith and my gay crisis magically left (I then also came out as bi after some inner reflection). Removing Christianity eased the burden. Mind you, this was a decade ago and things were still not as tolerant. Gay marriage wasn’t even legal across the US yet.

While the easy answer is to just not worry about it anymore (just become an atheist! Throw off your shackles, move to the forest and become a bog witch!) in practice, the problem runs deeper. Presumably you have been a Christian for most of your life. Leading up to your time at the Honor Academy you started getting more and more legalistic (if you weren’t already part of a legalistic church). You move in and complete your year(s) at Teen Mania, fully entrenching yourself in the legalism. Then you leave the bubble and suddenly your world changes. You may go back to your previous church, but everything feels off. Even if they were formed recently, old habits die hard. In fact, I remember one of my fellow church goers complaining that I had changed a lot at Teen Mania. I was incredulous and offended at this statement at the time, but now I see it.

All this to say, while you may no longer be part of the faith, you may still feel engrossed in it. Tied to it. Burdened by it even. I became an atheist, but I didn’t leave the church for another three years or so. I ignored what the pastor was saying, but I felt that I should at least continue running the projector since the church was small and others should be able to worship. PLUS, I was able to do my university homework consistently.

Here’s a hot take: We were conditioned at the Honor Academy. At face value, you may not immediately agree with that statement. I think it’s a neutral fact. Objectively, we were conditioned. Subjectively, I believe it was overall bad (both as an end and the means to that end). But let’s focus on the conditioning. Everyone has heard of Pavlov and his dog, but my intro to psychology course used a different example. A volunteer sat in front of the class and my teacher read a list of random words. One word in particular was repeated, spray for instance. Every time spray was said, she squirt the volunteer in the face with water. This elicited a flinch. This happened over the course of a couple of minutes: flower, dog, spray, meat, book, pencil, spray, tea, spray and so on.

Then the teacher did something interesting: she said the word spray without spraying the volunteer. Can you guess what happened?

If you guessed that they flinched, you’re right. The volunteer was conditioned now that the word spray meant they were about to get wet. The word was the stimulus while the flinch was the conditioned response. As the teacher continued to say the trigger word without spraying the volunteer, the student eventually got used to hearing the word spray; they stopped flinching.

The Honor Academy did a lot of spraying and I still find myself reeling from the trigger responses. I occasionally still struggle with counting past ten without saying “One zero. One one. One two…etc” Christianity likewise did a lot of spraying and the odd, subtle beliefs/thoughts pop up. It is in these moments that I have to remind myself that these rules don’t apply to me anymore. I still flinch, but I am slowly getting used to hearing the Christianese.