A case for religion
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Sunday, Oct. 6, 2024
CW: mental health
About four years ago, I suddenly acquired self-awareness. Maybe, at
age 45, I finally "grew up." After all, I have kind of been a
perpetual tween, both in a good and a bad way. From what I have
seen recently on autistic Instagram and Threads world, this does
not seem to be not so unusual: many autistic adults, in the process
of "unmasking," discover that even in their 30s and 40s, their
level of ability to live and move in society is quite analogous to
those of teenagers.
To me, the floodgate of sudden self-awareness came in the midst of
a severe anxiety episode during the uncertain and chaotic days of
the COVID-19 restrictions and the 2020 presidential election. Then
I began having frequent flashbacks of my childhood antics and
youthful (that extended well into my 30s) misbehavior. They were
truly cringe-worthy and embarrassing, to say the least. I now live
mostly with shame, guilt, and regret, and very little else.
As a child, before there was a wider awareness of autism and other
neurodivergent conditions, I was my parents' and teachers' worst
nightmare. As they'd often say, I was utterly incapable of empathy,
had no concept of right and wrong, and was never able to consider
the feelings of others. They were perplexed: I appeared to be a
"genius," "gifted," and "smart." I was not a stereotypical "retard"
they could send to a mental institution or to the special ed. They
were clueless as to what to do with me. I was extremely defiant to
authority, yet I was cunning enough to stay out of trouble and make
myself look good to strangers.
I hated the world I lived in, and I hated every single human that
dwelled in it. I could not understand them, and I loathed how I was
"unfairly" singled out to be blamed for just about everything that
did or did not happen in their little world. I hated how I was
bullied by some kids while being merely tolerated by a few others,
while the majority simply avoided me like a plague.
So as a little child, I began developing a very intricate world of
fantasy. I also found comfort in books. I was hyperlexic and had an
extremely high IQ. By age 5 I was reading at the high school level.
I remember vividly some moments when I was perhaps 5 or 6 years
old, after having either read someone's book on the afterlife or
maybe seen something on TV, I would ponder about life after death
-- not something a normal 5-year-old would think even for a moment.
This was a mish-mash of different ideas about the afterlife: some
Christian ideas of heaven and hell, some Buddhist beliefs about
them, some world mythologies, and New Age and spiritualist thoughts
on the spirit world, it was not particularly consistent or coherent
at the time.
Combined with my emerging obsession with world geography at the
time, I soon became drawn to different ways people around the globe
believed about God and the cosmos, and how they practiced their
faith traditions.
In retrospect, these events naturally led to my curiosity and
interest in subjects such as theology and comparative religion and
ultimately became Christian by the time I was in middle school.
Yet, I struggled. I could not fully "get" the idea that one could
relate to God as though God was a person. To me, God seemed more
like a universal principle or cosmic law. I envied those Christians
who would say something like "God spoke to me" or "I felt the
presence of the Lord and I experienced Him." For a few years, I
chased such experiences (my Pentecostal-Charismatic phase) by
attending a suburban megachurch, and traveling out-of-state for
so-called "miracle crusades" and "Bible encounters," and in
general, immersing myself in the subculture of the American
Charismatic Evangelicals (this was also when I was very much into
what may be termed today as "Christian nationalism"). But I only
came out empty, experiencing nothing supernatural, and realizing
how shallow and crass they were.
I genuinely wanted what they appeared to have. I wanted to
experience the supernatural. I yearned to be like a normal person,
be successful, be prosperous, and have the best life God intended
me to have. What a disappointment it turned out to be.
There was a time in my life when I behaved for all practical
purposes like an atheist. I threw myself into political activism to
find a sense of meaning and purpose, as well as to find a
community. I finally thought I could become like a human until I
realized I could not. I burned myself out.
Lately, I keep wondering if I might be a malignant narcissist. I've
met enough neurodivergent people in recent years and even they seem
to have some degree of empathy. But my brain sees a human being and
it does not recognize them as a living, breathing person with their
own feelings, thoughts, and lives. My brain perceives them as a
mere object instead. Sure, on a purely intellectual level, I know
that's not the case. Over the years, I've learned at least how to
fake it. But it takes a lot of daily conscious efforts on my side
to remind myself that I am looking at a person with their own
feelings, thoughts, and lives, not at a bothersome object that is
in my way.
If you've just read the foregoing paragraph, your first impression
should be something like, "What a dangerous, deranged psychopath!"
I cannot blame you at all. Yet, here's the thing: I did not turn
out to become a mass murderer, a dictator (even though from time to
time I really wanted to become one), a con artist, or any sort of
criminal figure. Why?
I thank my very early exposure to religion and ethics before I
became a teenager. Without this, probably I could have become a
delinquent teen and lived a life of crimes.
During the last two years, in particular, there have been a lot of
discussions about how generative artificial intelligence
(generative AI) needs strong guardrails so that it won't spit out
unethical and dangerous materials that could do harm to society.
To me, religion -- despite my apparent inability to actually
experience God -- has long functioned as such "guardrails."
Basically, I used religion and its rules to train my brain to act
ethically (and to avoid self-destructing). The byproduct of this
was that uninformed observers, who had no clue what was really
going on in my mind, thought I was very godly and pious, but
honestly, I wasn't.
There are a lot of people in this modern world who say that one
does not need religion to be moral or ethical. Some even claim that
religion is actually harmful to this end. I say these people are
kind of naive and assume that everyone is naturally empathetic,
loving, and kind if they were left to their own devices. If that
were truly the case, religion probably did not develop in the first
place. All the prophets, sages, and holy teachers were needed when
the ancient people would otherwise be killing one another, driven
by vengeance, greed, and fear. Their teachings then developed into
an elaborate code of morals, virtues, vices, and ethics, backed by
an institution that perpetuates such a code and passes it down to
the next generations. (For those who believe in the theology of
original sin and total depravity, which is not my theological
position, this point may be a strong case for their doctrines --
and why they support a "Christian nationalist" government
established to restrain the evil and to guide the unbelievers and
force the "reprobates" to live a moral life for the benefit of
society, but I digress.)
So don't just dismiss or ridicule religion as something to be
"evolved out" of. There are people who truly benefit from it, and
the world is a better place because of vibrant and strong faith
communities.
