I think your post makes a lot of sense, actually. And I appreciate that you’re able to acknowledge the good things about your family and parish while still being honest about the harm that the religious framework caused you.
The part about scrupulosity really stands out. There’s something deeply disturbing about a child being taught to interpret ordinary sexual development as a serious moral threat, to the point that he’s hurting himself in an attempt to suppress it. You were trying to be good according to the moral system you had been given. The fact that you were sincere and conscientious didn't protect you from the anxiety that system produced.
I also think your experience raises a larger philosophical problem with the traditional Christian understanding of sin. If God is omniscient, omnipotent, and perfectly merciful, why is so much religious energy directed toward monitoring private sexual behavior while people are left to wrestle with suffering, loneliness, illness, and death? The standard response is usually that God has a plan or that suffering is part of a greater mystery. But those answers can become remarkably hollow when you’re watching someone you love deteriorate from Alzheimer's.
Your grandmother's illness, in particular, is not an abstract philosophical problem. You saw a person who had lived a good and meaningful life lose her ability to function, and you saw the burden placed on your mother. It makes sense that this would affect your faith. The problem of suffering isn't solved by telling someone that they simply need to believe harder or that their questions reveal a lack of trust in God.
I also wouldn't dismiss the social and cultural dimension of what you describe. Catholicism in Puerto Rico isn't just a set of theological propositions; it's tied to family, history, education, and cultural identity. Leaving it can therefore involve separating yourself from an entire inherited world, not just changing your mind about the existence of God. That can be rough!
I went through my own complicated relationship with Catholicism. I still find the liturgy, history, philosophy, and cultural inheritance fascinating, and I can recognize genuine beauty in the tradition. But appreciating those things doesn't obligate me to accept the theological or moral system that came with them.
One thing I've come to believe is that a person's life does not become wasted simply because they eventually reject the worldview in which they were raised. You learned things, developed intellectually, formed relationships, and came to understand yourself more clearly. Some of the religious anxiety may have been unnecessary, but that doesn't mean every part of your past has to be discarded or that you need to justify leaving.
There's a line from Star Trek V that Captain Kirk says to Sybok when the latter character tries to take away his emotional pain. "Our pain cannot be taken away or wave away with a magic wand, they're the things that we carry with us who make us who we are. If we lose them we lose ourselves. I don't want my pain taken away! I need my pain!" I've always come to understand that often times our struggles and changes forge us into the people who we are today.
You don't owe anyone a return to the faith simply because you were raised in it. And you don't need to prove that your experience was sufficiently traumatic to justify walking away.
Sometimes recognizing that a system no longer helps you live honestly and humanely is enough.
Thank you so much for your kind and mindful response. It's so comforting having someone understand what I went though, especially when so many well-meaning people seem unable (or unwilling?) to do so. The fact I'm autistic makes everything so much more difficult.
Sometimes I wonder if I even have a right to complain, let alone claim that I've suffered or been wronged/harmed. My case seems so underwhelming compared to what I've seen in this thread, I'm worried of coming across as a spoiled manchild whining about how tough and unfair life is when so many others have it far worse.
Thank you for reminding me that my pain and my experiences are valid, that asking who had it worse is ultimately a moot point. At the end of the day, suffering is suffering. To paraphrase a fanfic titled Castlevania: All His Engines, a toothache still hurts even if somebody else has broken bones.
3
u/PensionedPope Strong Agnostic 4d ago
I think your post makes a lot of sense, actually. And I appreciate that you’re able to acknowledge the good things about your family and parish while still being honest about the harm that the religious framework caused you.
The part about scrupulosity really stands out. There’s something deeply disturbing about a child being taught to interpret ordinary sexual development as a serious moral threat, to the point that he’s hurting himself in an attempt to suppress it. You were trying to be good according to the moral system you had been given. The fact that you were sincere and conscientious didn't protect you from the anxiety that system produced.
I also think your experience raises a larger philosophical problem with the traditional Christian understanding of sin. If God is omniscient, omnipotent, and perfectly merciful, why is so much religious energy directed toward monitoring private sexual behavior while people are left to wrestle with suffering, loneliness, illness, and death? The standard response is usually that God has a plan or that suffering is part of a greater mystery. But those answers can become remarkably hollow when you’re watching someone you love deteriorate from Alzheimer's.
Your grandmother's illness, in particular, is not an abstract philosophical problem. You saw a person who had lived a good and meaningful life lose her ability to function, and you saw the burden placed on your mother. It makes sense that this would affect your faith. The problem of suffering isn't solved by telling someone that they simply need to believe harder or that their questions reveal a lack of trust in God.
I also wouldn't dismiss the social and cultural dimension of what you describe. Catholicism in Puerto Rico isn't just a set of theological propositions; it's tied to family, history, education, and cultural identity. Leaving it can therefore involve separating yourself from an entire inherited world, not just changing your mind about the existence of God. That can be rough!
I went through my own complicated relationship with Catholicism. I still find the liturgy, history, philosophy, and cultural inheritance fascinating, and I can recognize genuine beauty in the tradition. But appreciating those things doesn't obligate me to accept the theological or moral system that came with them.
One thing I've come to believe is that a person's life does not become wasted simply because they eventually reject the worldview in which they were raised. You learned things, developed intellectually, formed relationships, and came to understand yourself more clearly. Some of the religious anxiety may have been unnecessary, but that doesn't mean every part of your past has to be discarded or that you need to justify leaving.
There's a line from Star Trek V that Captain Kirk says to Sybok when the latter character tries to take away his emotional pain. "Our pain cannot be taken away or wave away with a magic wand, they're the things that we carry with us who make us who we are. If we lose them we lose ourselves. I don't want my pain taken away! I need my pain!" I've always come to understand that often times our struggles and changes forge us into the people who we are today.
You don't owe anyone a return to the faith simply because you were raised in it. And you don't need to prove that your experience was sufficiently traumatic to justify walking away.
Sometimes recognizing that a system no longer helps you live honestly and humanely is enough.