I am embarrassed to say that the most meaningful experiences of my Christian life are incredibly difficult to recall. More than anything else, two things stand out from the first 22 years of my life: my absolutely certainty of the truth of Christianity and my deeply felt emotions regarding that truth.
During high school and college, I prided myself on knowing more about Christianity than most of the people around me, often including the adults and teachers in my life. My faith was rational, based on everything I had ever read and been told about the world. I loved reading the Bible and theology, and especially loved reading literature and works of philosophy through the lens of Christian belief. Towards the end of my faith and the beginning of my parents' separation and divorce, I recall giving my father a book by some leading evangelical (maybe John Piper?) to help him through the time of crisis. (A year later, in a similarly misguided attempt, I gave him A Very Short Introduction to Atheism.) I was sure enough - and evangelical enough - in my beliefs that it had cost me several friendships.
Equally important, though, were the emotional ties I had to my beliefs: most importantly through music. I have always loved music, and having been brought up as a Christian, I also loved hymns and many worship songs. There are still few pleasures greater to me than experiencing good pieces of music, sometimes even hymns. At one point in my life, I viewed those experiences as a direct connection to God, and I have never felt the complete and utter joy of worship in any other setting. I am sure I never will again.
Besides a few sessions at Christ In Youth conferences or chapel in college, my most vivid experience of this kind was completely alone at the house where I grew up during my senior year in high school. I was playing some of my usual classical pieces on the piano, and that day was playing particularly well. I played for hours and for about ten minutes felt absolutely certain that I was experiencing a small part of what it must be like in heaven. I felt as though I were literally in God's physical presence, playing for him, and he was pleased by me. It was possibly the happiest I've ever felt.
Looking back I do miss those experiences. The terrifying lows and highs of Christianity made me feel alive in a way that I don't feel now. My complete certainty that I was being rational in my beliefs gave me confidence and comfort intellectually, and my emotions, hopes and desires were all satisfied by those same beliefs. Whether or not I decide that no longer having those intense experiences is a good thing is beside the point since I can't imagine a time in the future where I will once again have them. While I can honestly say I am glad I have chosen more rational beliefs over Christianity, I would be lying if I said I traded up from the spiritual experiences I had.
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do you still think of spirituality at all? do you ever consider other possibilities? not like another religion or institution. but other themes, forms, presences of spirituality. Some days I crave, so much so that it become a physical pain in my belly, the things that Christianity gave me. That satisfaction you talk about (emotional, mental). I crave the process of ti all. The times alone. The excuse to go out and sing. Oh the music. I know. There were very few moments, when the music was just the right kind in that particular circumstance, that I felt closer to God or the loved ones around me through God. I miss the music too. The singing. I haven't sung since I left. I have nothing to sing. No memory of songs. And when I start to sing hymns now I feel silly and if, say, I'm singing for a sibbling or friend, they either tell me I'm being hypocritical or to shut up, that's weird. I do miss it sometimes. Rarely. But the community, the music, the company of that big man in the sky who can walk with me at night when I'm scared or talk with me in bed or tell me to grow up or whatever.
I wish I did think of spirituality because I do feel a distinct lack of something. It's hard to say whether that feeling corresponds to a real need, but it's there, even if it's waning. Nothing has rung true to me yet, but some part of me wants deeply to feel the feelings I felt before, even if it means the horrible feelings coming along with the never-feel-better-than-this ones.
You will be surprised to hear from me that your characterization of your former fundamentalist, Christian faith is very similar -- almost identical -- to Andrew Sullivan's characterization of fundamentalist Christianity (or what he calls 'Christianism') in _The Conservative Soul_ (which I am reading right now!). Sullivan does a great job at accurately portraying the tenets of fundamentalisms and esp. Christian fundamentalism in a way that really resonated with me and my experience as a recovering Evangelical. He juxtaposes the Christianist's absolute certain about the Truth found in Scripture with the religious moderate's emphasis on the conscience as a crucial moral arbiter. So far, the book has really helped me to understand my current faith journey and why I've left Evangelicalism, and also why I disagree so vehemently with Christian fundamentalism and my parents. I would highly recommend it; the book is almost therapeutic.
I wonder if we had those spiritual experiences more easily while Christians because we were more open to those possibilities at the time. I mean, do you do anything even remotely close to the act of praying any more? Do you contemplate the spiritual world to the extent that you did when a Christian? I think Sam Harris is correct in his advocation of meditation (Jesus, sometimes I feel like the guy's publicist or something). I don't think we allow ourselves enough time for serious contemplation, even if it doesn't concern the spiritual realm. That's why I appreciate running and walking so much, because it gave me an hour or two of blank mental time to really think about things.
I believe one of the reasons Christianity is so popular in our country is that it (however lamely) provides spiritual experiences in the context of communal ones. I know we've had many conversations about this, but it bears repeating: In what other institutions can you enter the door and automatically become a part of that big group, simply by declaring that you agree with them? What other group activity allows someone to earnestly seek out a spiritual awakening?
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