Je Ne Crois Pas

Quarter after six.

I had a flashback to last December, the night when Pastor D– picked me up and we went up on campus to Blue Christmas. It was a strange experience. Pastor dropped a remark about Trump that made me wonder. He said he believed Trump was the Antichrist. I was incredulous, and told him so. It was embarrassing for both of us, though I think it was harder for him. Ever since then, things have been awkward between us. Pastor probably regrets having said anything like that. He exposed himself and made himself vulnerable. My response was rather knee-jerk and thoughtless. While my state of mind was commonsense realism, his was farfetched fantasy, and a part of himself knew it was silly and childish. It’s like the daydreams about Santa Claus I had as a second grader. I hadn’t thought of those things in many years. I believed in magic. I swallowed all the lies about Santa Claus I saw and heard from my parents and the media. I believed it because I wanted to. I guess it’s called the will to believe. But of course, as I grew older and began to question what I’d been told, I realized that the facts didn’t support the belief. And as Richard Dawkins has already said, the God delusion is the same thing… Anyway, I feel bad for Pastor and I regret the awkwardness between us now. Two months seems like forever ago. I hadn’t thought about my situation with the church until last night. I’ve kept attending because they don’t want me to leave. A church group is similar to a family, with all the members being interdependent. However, my loss of faith is irrevocable. When you don’t believe, you simply don’t believe…


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