As the words parted my lips, it felt as if I was standing outside myself. It hadn’t happened in that moment, but it was right then that I recognized just how far my journey had taken me.
I was on a path. One paved with both grief and gladness; both confusion and conviction; both death and resurrection.
I was born again.
But this time, I was escaping the fetters of Christian grace.
I am a man in process. The process of departing the Christian faith.
I say process because there is no “Christian” button that flips from on to off. Being a “Christ-follower” (and all that implies) has embodied so much of my identity, culture, and worldview. It has served as the most essential frame of reference for my adult life.
That is, until recently.
It’s been nearly a decade since I first seriously wrestled with questions and doubts about my Christian faith. That being said, the idea of leaving the faith was never on the agenda. The erosion of my faith was gradual, but had many significant moments of transformation. Each an attempt to hold my faith tighter—to find a more authentic and meaningful connection to God.
It is a journey from faith to wonder—replete with revelation, confusion, and hope. Ultimately, I found myself admitting—with a profound and unexpected sense of relief—that I am no longer a Christian.
My goal in sharing this story is to explore and reflect upon my ongoing existential shakeup. To explore the ripple effects of this new reality—how it affects my family, my relationships, and the raising of my children.
Of course, a significant measure will be devoted to the philosophical reasons I no longer call myself Christian. At least not in the exclusive access to God sort of way. In doing so, I hope to write with respect and humility.
The truth is that my life overflows with the love and kindness of many beautiful Christian people. And certainly, I am mindful that “Christian” covers a broad spectrum of beliefs, choices, and experiences. It’s quite possible that if I had embraced a different flavor of Christianity, this transformation of belief and worldview may not have felt as seismic.
One thing is certain: everything has changed. I feel an unexpected sense of liberation and intimacy with the world around me. Humanity is broader, richer, and vastly more beautiful than I ever allowed myself to see. Love feels more intimate and sacred. And time — time feels infinitely precious.
A significant course correction is the embrace of an unquenchable sense of mystery. There’s freedom in not having to force the puzzle pieces of life perfectly together. It’s a relief to not have all the answers.
The truth is, I never did.
“The truth” is that the only thing I know for certain is what’s in front of me: Loving my family. Loving my friends. Loving my neighbor.