“And the time finally came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” Anais Nin
When I was a kid I needed help learning how to ride a bike. My parents gave me a set of training wheels that kept me from falling over and hurting myself. I loved those wheels and was able to ride my bike every day. But I was told I couldn’t keep them forever. I would one day get good enough to ride without them and must give them up. I didn’t want to hear that and wasn’t sure I believed it. But the day finally came when I realized my parents were right. I didn’t need training wheels anymore. I could ride faster, move easier, and have greater freedom without them.
When I became a born-again Christian, I needed help too. I was told how important it was to fellowship with others, to learn to worship God, pray for the sick and save unbelievers. But most of all, to accept the Bible as the infallible and inerrant word of God.
I worked very hard at that. I began reading the bible every day looking for the assurance everyone promised about it’s power to change lives. Right away I could see contradictions, conflicting stories, and things that couldn’t be true. A good friend of mine told me I was imagining them and needed to be more serious about exercising my faith. He seemed to be content with certain passages that offered hope and didn’t care to hear my questions about anything else.
When, after 33 years, I realized change wasn’t happening for me I decided there must be more. I began studying the history of the bible, the stories of the men who first heard from God, how those stories came to be compiled into a holy book, and how it led to the formation of the church.
Regrettably, it all brought about an end to my faith experience. I had been taught to talk like Jesus and act like Jesus. But I was told I would BE like Jesus, and I didn’t see it happening - not for anyone. I didn’t want to disturb others but I had to be true to myself. I took heart in Paul’s admonishment that serious believers ultimately need to “move on from milk to solid food.” And I did.
I don’t blame the church. It was a wonderful experience for me in the beginning. But eventually I started doubting conflicting doctrines like inherited sinfulness and a God of love who sends his children to hell for their disobedience. When the time finally came that I realized the truth of God living in me, I knew it was time to move on from the church. In fact, I needed to let it go.
Just like I had to do with my training wheels when I was a kid.
