I left evangelicalism in 2005 after years of struggling with my church's stringent theology and narrow approaches to politics. In a matter of months, I went from having an expansive network of church brethren who claimed to love and support me to living in social and emotional exile. As one of the youth ministers at my church, I was used to playing the role of moral exemplar and community leader. Soon, I became persona non grata—the guy my former evangelical kin would awkwardly ignore in the coffee shop or at the grocery store. This experience led me into a deep sense of isolation. I didn't yet know how to navigate the world outside of the strict evangelical bubble in which I'd spent my teenage and young adult years, but my crisis of faith meant I could no longer exist in the evangelical movement. To make matters worse, I could find no community of fellow deconverts for me to join—no support group with which to work through the conflicting feelings of guilt, freedom, sadness, and hope. Leaving the church meant being alone.
It also meant being immoral. People at my former church expressed grief over my leaving and hope that someday I would someday return to the righteous path. In their eyes, I had transformed from someone their kids should look up to into someone their kids should stay away from. Soon church members began asking my parents if I was an alcoholic or cheating on my wife.
Read Full Article »