An Old Friend's Divergent Path

Yesterday I was feeling bored and decided to browse through some old files on my computer from back when I was a devout Catholic and to check out some websites that I used to visit at that time. I had the idea to look up an old online friend of mine, my first online friend in fact, and to see what he’s been up to in the years since we last spoke. It was quite interesting to compare how our paths have diverged.

I first encountered Mr. Mario Derksen of Coral Springs, Florida, on the Prodigy religion message boards sometime around 1994, when my family first got internet access. He was very active in apologetics threads, primarily debating with Protestants, and I soon joined these discussions armed with what I had read in the new catechism. Mario and I became allies on the message boards, and we began to e-mail each other regularly. Mario recommended the first apologetics book I ever read and watching him debate encouraged me to learn more. At some point, Mario set up and operated his own apologetics website where he published and organized his own materials, and I did the same, though on a much smaller scale. We remained in contact for years, but my interest in apologetics ended when my scrupulosity and doubts caused a personal crisis, and we eventually lost touch about ten years ago.

In order to find Mario, I first tried to visit his old website, Catholic Insight, but the domain is no longer registered, and it seems that he has discontinued it rather than simply moved it. I then tried to load an archived copy of the site, but archiving has been disabled. Next, I simply searched for his name. Most of the results are his contributions to various apologetics websites from about a decade ago. For a moment, it seemed that he had just disappeared off the face of the internet. Then I found some information indicating that Mario, who was already an indult Catholic when I knew him, had moved further into religious extremism.

In particular, I read an excerpt of an announcement by Mario from his website that had been posted elsewhere that he had become a sedevacantist, that is, one who denies the validity of the recent popes and claims the papal throne is currently empty. Sedevacantists typically assert that the Catholic Church largely abandoned its infallible claim to exclusivity of salvation during the Second Vatican Council in the 1960s, making the alleged popes since then heretics. Conclavists move one step further and take it upon themselves to elect a new pope to fill the vacant seat, often from among a small circle of like-minded family and friends. I was disappointed not to find the full text of his announcement, but I noted with interest that he had published it in August 2004, while I was in the midst of my intense deconversion to atheism.

I continued searching for anything from the last seven years. I found more excerpts of and responses to his arguments for sedevacantism from around that time but little else. Finally, I found his website devoted to a hundred-page letter to a bishop regarding an ordination controversy by a Vietnamese sedevacantist bishop in France in 1981. The site includes audio files from a presentation by Mario on the subject given earlier this year, indicating that he has maintained his basic position since 2004. I had been hoping that he had quietly followed the trail of logic out of the church completely like me rather than around and around into ever smaller reactionary circles on its outskirts. Mario is certainly a very intelligent man—I largely agree with his conclusion that the popes changed their teachings on religious liberty during the twentieth century—and I know he could see through the entire ecclesiastical charade if he simply had sufficient motivation. Scrupulosity was an absolute nightmare for me, but I suspect I would still be a Catholic if it hadn’t prompted me to question absolutely everything and everyone and that I wouldn't be nearly as happy as I am today if I hadn't left. Our views could hardly be more different today, but I wish him all the best and hope he's doing well.

At the beginning of his audio presentation on his website about the ordination controversy, Mario mentions three things he shares in common with Benedict XVI. In this spirit, I’d like to mention three things I share in common with Mario: We’re the same age. We both grew up in Florida. And neither of us today thinks that Benedict XVI speaks with any authority.

Image: jiggoja | FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Know Thy Enemy

Contrary to the claims of some detractors of the “New Atheists,” it's not necessary to understand the intricacies of a religious doctrine in order reject it as absurd or unsubstantiated. It is, however, necessary to understand the basic definition in order to articulate a meaningful critique. In particular, I've seen a number of arguments on blogs and forums against Catholic dogmas which fail simply because the author misconstrues them out of pure ignorance. I'll address two of these errors in the hope that my readers will avoid them and advance a more effective criticism of religion.

The first is the dogma of transubstantiation. This is the belief that during the consecration in mass, the bread and wine become Jesus' body and blood without changing their physical nature whatsoever. It's said that the invisible, spiritual, immaterial “substance” changes without the visible, physical, material “form” or “accidents” changing. This means that what still looks exactly like bread and wine are believed to be literally Jesus' flesh and blood distributed as communion. There is considerable confusion about this idea even among Catholics, partly because it makes a nonsensical distinction and partly because the wrong word is often used to define it. I've seen even moderately sophisticated authors define transubstantiate with transform even though transubstantiation was coined precisely to distinguish it from transformation. With that said, if one wishes to attack the dogma, then it's an error to simply point out that it still looks like bread and wine given that such is happily acknowledged. Challenges to examine it under a microscope or after a communicant has received it fall into the category of error, for it's not claimed that the form changes at any point in space or time. It's supposedly an absolutely undetectable miracle, making it from a skeptic's perspective an absolutely worthless miracle claim with respect to possible evidence for the supernatural. Proper criticism of the doctrine would focus on the absurdity of the distinction between matter and spirit, the importance of falsifiability, the moral repugnancy of cannibalizing one's deity, or any other topic consistent with its true definition.

The second is the dogma of papal infallibility. This is the belief that the pope cannot err when speaking authoritatively for the entire church – ex cathedra or “from the chair” – on matters of faith and morals. The scope is extraordinarily narrow, and while there is some disagreement among scholars about precisely which statements qualify, the vast majority of papal statements which one finds in the news are certainly not considered ex cathedra. It's an error, therefore, if your goal is to argue against infallibility, to point out that the pope apparently contradicted something he himself or one of his predecessors said unless both were said under very special circumstances. In addition, the doctrine clearly doesn't concern papal actions and shouldn't be confused with impeccability, the inability to sin. Pointing out the sins of the current or past popes is irrelevant with respect to infallibility, especially given that recent popes have very publicly acknowledged some of the papacy's historical wrongs. Proper criticism would focus on contradictions between recognized ex cathedra statements and the inherent fallibility in determining whether another person is infallible.

The mixing up of two more dogmas is more easily resolved and doesn't itself cause bad argumentation, but I would like to clarify them anyway. The “Immaculate Conception” refers to the conception of Mary by her parents without imputing her with original sin, not the conception of Jesus by Mary without a sexual act, which is known as the “Incarnation.” Both dogmas are vulnerable to criticism, but the first step is use the correct terminology.

I've been attacked for indicating that an atheist was arguing against a straw man and accused of “towing [sic] the [church's] party line,” but such criticism is severely misdirected. I consider religious dogma my enemy and the best way to fight is “to know thy enemy.” Telling your comrades that they're firing blanks is a service to your cause, not to the other side. Advancing the anti-theistic equivalents of the creationist claim that evolution is false because there are still monkeys is quite ineffective.

A Failure of Imagination

The alleged resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth is the primary focal point of Christian apologetics. Excepting various discredited relics which would provide only very indirect support at best, the only type of evidence regularly claimed by Christian apologists is the supposed eyewitness accounts of the event. Yet the arguments presented in support of these accounts rely completely on a failure of the imagination.

There are many lengthy books which go into great detail explaining why the accounts are credible and trustworthy. The authors argue that the disciples could not possibly have lied, that they could not possibly have been mistaken, and that the later storytellers and scribes could not possibly have done either. Can they simply not fathom any possible scenario in which a false story came to be believed? Can they not remember their justification for dismissing every other religion's alleged miracles? No, they insist that in this particular case, the witnesses are completely and totally reliable, despite scientific studies having proven that eyewitnesses are not absolutely reliable even in their individual, basic, short-term memories, much less highly controversial and politically charged group claims of the miraculous in times of severe stress and anxiety.

It is patently absurd to argue in favor of a seemingly impossible occurrence that we never, ever witness by claiming that other occurrences which we witness on a daily basis just could not possibly have occurred.

Believers without Faith

Although I was raised a practicing Catholic and became very devout for about ten years before my deconversion, I never really had faith in the sense of belief without sufficient evidence. To the extent to which I justified my beliefs, it was always through reason. Perhaps this is why I have difficulty relating to people who justify theirs through faith.

Before junior high school, I never gave much thought to religion. I went to Mass with my family and attended religious education classes, but like most children, I didn't pay much attention to it. My first real interest in religion developed when my family starting receiving EWTN on cable. A few years later I became interested in apologetics and it was then that I first examined my reasons for believing. At that time I adopted what I now call the rationalistic faith paradigm, discussed in more detail in my lengthy essay justifying my apostasy. I believed that the arguments for God's existence were valid and that the miracles of the Catholic Church objectively proved that it was the true, infallible church. I had faith in the sense that I accepted the truth of the dogmas of the church without direct evidence for them, but I thought that I had perfectly valid reasons for trusting the church. From my perspective, it had nothing to do with feelings or blind trust; it was all rational and logical.

It was that claim to rationality that later made my belief susceptible to inquiry and investigation. If the arguments for God's existence were invalid and the evidence for the supposed miracles of the Catholic Church were called into question, then my rationalistic faith could and in fact did crumble. My anchoring of my mind to reason led me to my current position.

There was for me no “having faith” in God to justify my belief in God himself. One cannot trust a being to establish the existence of that very being! It is circular and invalid. One is simply trusting himself and his own faculties. It's such a simple point, but the vast majority of believers fail to realize that their supposed faith in God is nothing more than faith in their own unjustified personal opinions. There are certainly, however, other believers who claim to base their beliefs entirely on objective evidence and it is these people, if they are unafraid or at least willing to face their fears, who are the most open to rational argumentation against religion.

From Catholic to Atheist

In the interest of providing additional perspective to my thoughts, I will now share the tale of my journey from Catholicism to atheism.

The circumstances of my entrance into the Church are very commonplace. My Catholic parents had me baptized shortly after my birth, brought me to Mass each Sunday, and sent me to formal religious education until I received the sacrament of confirmation at the age of thirteen. Around that time, I developed a serious interest in religion and became relatively devout in my faith. I sought to understand the teachings of the Church more deeply. I read the Bible, the newly published universal catechism, and a few books on apologetics, though my forays into online apologetic debate were largely uneventful. Discussion of religion with two atheist friends at the end of high school, however, planted seeds of major doubt in my mind, which seemed to flower immediately before being quickly crushed by fear and anxiety.

At university I entrenched myself even more deeply into religion, leading to serious considerations of entering the seminary or the monastery, but the fear of an eternal hell which had forcefully preserved me in the faith soon created a terrestrial hell for me in form of scrupulosity. I will not discuss the details of the situation, but I will say that it truly was a nightmare. The condition persisted for years with only temporary, partial, and sporadic reprieves despite extensive assistance from the clergy and other persons. Eventually, however, the issue of doubt became a major focus of my obsession and the seeds planted years before germinated such that they were ready to blossom with the proper amount of cultivation.

A frank discussion with a friend who had earlier made a similar journey provided the catalyst to a thorough investigation of my doubts over the course of several months. During this time I read everything that I could find, online or in print, pro- and anti-religion. I spoke with family, friends and priests. I spent much time in prayer and in thought. In the end I found that I had lost my faith from a combination of the obliteration of my former justifications for belief, the establishment of numerous insurmountable objections and difficulties, and the realization that everything in life makes much more sense if Catholicism is indeed false. I left the Church almost four months after my initial decision to question my religion.

Though my sufferings certainly helped prompt the investigation, my loss of faith and subsequent apostasy were the result of logical, systematic inquiry rather than an emotionally motivated escape from the torment I experienced at the hands of religion. I am certain, however, that many believers will dismiss my reasons as less than noble. In response I would like to indicate that my decision to face my doubts and fears demanded a certain amount of courage. With my understanding that to entertain and indulge one's doubts was a sin grave enough to merit eternal damnation, I willfully endangered my soul in order to satisfy my sense of intellectual honesty and desire for truth. Additionally, I realized that it would perhaps be impossible to feel sorry and thus seek forgiveness for the sin of doubting if I found the Catholic faith to be true, meaning that I effectively had to surmount a point-of-no-return in order to even begin. Whatever the case, supposed emotional motivations do not discount rational argumentation and criticism.

My scrupulosity immediately and substantially diminished upon my apostasy, though the fear of hell lingered for approximately six months before fully dissipating. I initially considered myself an agnostic, but the more appropriate term would have been weak atheist. A further examination of the problem of evil a few months later prompted my transition to strong atheism. I have maintained that position since and that is where I stand today.