Losing My Religion

Disclaimer: I started writing this as politically correct as possible, but it lost a lot of its value. I feel that in order to tell my story I need to be honest about my opinions. When reading this, please understand that what I may have to say about my experiences is not any sort of an implication of how I feel about people who disagree with my views. But if you stick it all the way out, you'll see that this is not at all a hate-filled ramble! Si se puede!

The Setup
     I spent thirteen years of my life at Oregon Episcopal School. I've literally bled for that school (I get mean on the lacrosse field) and it definitely helped shape who I'm becoming. For those unfamiliar with the Episcopal Church, here's a quick and definitely offensive overview: we're just bad Catholics. King Henry VIII wanted to get a divorce, which was forbidden in the Catholic Church, so he made his own church that would allow him to bend the rules. That was the Church of England, and the Episcopal Church is essentially its American buddy.
     My family has some religious roots, but religion was never in the picture at home. I never went to church with my family (until one of my cousins was baptized a few years ago), but I went to chapel at least once a week at school. In elementary school, we went twice a week. We'd sing songs, listen to fascinating stories about our school's beloved chaplain's pets, and have a generally awesome time. In addition, once a week the chaplain would come to our classroom and read us C.S. Lewis and give us things to color while telling us about her cool friend named God. I used to come home from school and regurgitate what I had learned to my parents, who swore I would grow up to be just like the chaplain I loved so much. Today, we laugh about that idea.

The What
     If I had been at a Catholic school, I think I would have immediately rejected the church and become a card carrying atheist. However, I went to an Episcopal school. They took all the ideals of Christianity and wrapped them up in a very liberal package. I didn't believe stories like Adam and Eve or Noah's Ark, but I was told I didn't have to. All that mattered were the ideas they represented. I was living a sort of half-life during the religious parts of school, where I would be intrigued and fascinated while also not believing a single word. I learned about love and respect through a religious lens, but because the school was so liberal, those values were often taken to places that contradicted traditional religious teachings.
     I learned that it wasn't all one package, and that believing in Jesus's message didn't necessarily mean I had to subscribe to the entire system. On Ash Wednesday in particular, I would sit in a church and listen to some man who didn't know me tell me that I am inherently full of sin, and I must repent because Jesus said so. Or something. I didn't super pay attention, you guys. That message was absolutely not okay with me and sort of the straw that broke the camel's back. I of course believe in introspection, in figuring out what I've done wrong and trying to improve it. Striving to be better than we have been is what makes us human. But I absolutely did not believe that I was an evil 14-year-old who owed my entire existence to some dude who died a couple thousand years ago. People aren't evil. People are awesome. You know, usually. So I found peace in parting ways with something that had become so intertwined with my identity from a young age.

The So What
     When I was making the decision to begin pushing away from religion, it was almost the cool thing to do. We had all been taking things for granted since we were children, and then we got to middle school, where we were encouraged to think for ourselves and make our own choices. I was definitely not the only one moving away from the church.
     However, I grew up. I was enamored with people I met, people I wanted to emulate, people whose lives helped me understand my own. Some were just my friends, and some were teachers/leaders/camp counselors/you name it. Every time I learned one of these people I wanted to become was religious, my understanding of religion took a hit. How could these people I admired so much embody something I rejected so wholly? (there's a pun in there if you look...)
     I realized that I couldn't take such a harsh attitude toward an issue that revolves around people without in turn making a statement about the people themselves. The ideas I had developed about religion were completely inconsistent with my general love of people. I realized that my personal issue wasn't just a personal thing. I had to listen to Jesus and love my neighbor. All of them. Even the religious ones.

The Now What
     In all honesty, I am still not okay with a lot of things about religion. I avoid the Catholic Church as a general rule (so pretty much nailing it with the whole Santa Clara thing), I would love to have a word or two with the pope, and there are a lot of times when I really resent how some people wield their religion as a weapon. I still believe the world would be a better place without religion.
     However, a world devoid of spirituality would never exist. As humans, we are irrevocably curious and always searching for meaning. I've finally been able to understand that the majority of religious people I meet will not present an attack on my liberal values, and that most likely, I'll learn from them.
I think my resentment toward people with strong spiritual beliefs began out of jealousy. I didn't have that strong of convictions of any sort. Now, on the other hand, I fully understand that faith is an incredibly important part of life, but it doesn't have to be faith in god.
     One of the girls I volunteered with this summer described faith to me like this: Every time I drop something, I know that it will fall. But I don't actually know that for a fact. I believe that the object will fall because I believe in gravity and I believe in the truth of my own experience of all the other times I watched things fall, so I trust that my dropping something will lead to its falling. That trust in the relative truth of my own personal world is faith.
     These days, I am comfortable understanding my own "faith" and its lack of a spiritual element as fundamentally no different than the faith of my religious friends. I try to do good things because my own personal understanding of the world requires it, and that is no different from others doing good things because they are following the teachings of a prophet or other religious leader. I can finally admire Jesus for his actions without having to decide if any of it actually happened or not.
     I'm not a religious person. I am not an atheist either. I'm not even agnostic. I just let religion and my life operate in separate spheres. My best friend and the other two people I admire most in the world are religious, and I love every part of them because our values are congruent, even though they are motivated by different factors. Religion is just a means to an end, and I have taken a different path.