Origins of unbelief

[God-free]

It isn’t possible for me to pinpoint exactly when I stopped believing. My questioning began when I was a child and several more times throughout the years. I’ll try to condense this, as best I can, by only talking about four of my most vivid memories. This will take two to four posts. So, please don’t reply until I’m finished.

Memory 1:
As a child, I attended Sunday School. It took place in the lower level of the church while the adult services were held in the upper level. As you’d expect, I was taught the usual child-appropriate lessons and we’d sing songs and whatnot. From the cl***room, I could hear the music coming from the choir upstairs. I’ve always liked music and, at home, I loved hearing my mom singing in harmony to the music on the radio. So, it should come as no surprise to anyone that I wanted very badly to be in the room from where those beautiful sounds were coming. One Sunday morning, I think I was about 6 years old, I decided to skip my usual lessons and sit-in on the adult service. I knew I was taking a chance and that I might be sent back downstairs but, to me, it was worth the risk.

I walked into the room along with everyone else and took a seat a few rows back from the pulpit. Needless to say, I made sure to stay quiet and be on my best behavior. No one questioned my presence. Success!

Out comes the pastor; there’s a prayer and the sermon begins. It was about the sinful nature of humanity. I’m pretty sure this was the first time I’d heard the story presented without the “fluffiness” that children usually get (in fact, this is the first memory I have of hearing that story, period). When I heard the pastor say that we deserve to be punished for Adam’s & Eve’s actions, my first thought was (keep in mind, I'm only 6 now), "Hey! That's not fair! I didn't have anything to do with that. I wasn't even born yet."

I don’t recall anything about what my parents and grandparents told me when I questioned them about this. I only know that I did and, even though I was unsatisfied with their answers, I trusted that they wouldn’t deceive me. And so I continued to believe “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.”

And, by the way, the choir was GREAT! No regrets on that front. I didn’t even get into trouble for going to the adult service instead of my usual Sunday School cl***. At least, not that I remember.