A.Religious conversions are a hot topic after Muslim-turned-atheist Ayaan Hirsi Ali announced that she now considers herself a Christian. She is the first of the high-profile “new” militant atheists such as Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, and the late Christopher Hitchens to reclaim God.
by Ayaan reasons given are both practical and personal. She gave few details about the latter, other than that she found life without spiritual comfort “unbearable.” She says more about her pragmatic motivations. She believes Christianity is the foundation of Western civilization, whose values of freedom and tolerance are under threat, an understandable concern after growing up in repressive Somalia.
This instrumentalism has been criticized, including by some Christians. As pointed out Pascal-Emmanuel Gobry, modern Protestantism demands something more individual and emotional than what Ayaan offers in her article (although reading between the lines, I suspect she may have had such an experience, but she chooses to keep it private). Jacob Phillips wrote for The critic that followers of Christianity have historically accepted sacrifice and suffering rather than considering it as a societal panacea.
The Christian faith is not only tied to right-wing political concerns like promoting freedom and saving the West. In the United Kingdom, the Church is often associated with the left. That’s one of the reasons I was first drawn to it – but ultimately, it completely changed the way I saw the world.
I was an angry leftist in the 2000s, before it was fashionable. As a modest journalist for liberal newspapers like The Guardian And The Sunday IndependentI was concerned enough about social justice to leave the media and work in NHS mental health services.
My beliefs are widespread today, but they were niche then: the world’s problems were created by an oppressive, educated elite in the private sector. They could be solved if enough politically correct people rose to power, extracted more money from the rich, and shaped the state to their liking, while rejecting fuddy-duddy traditions.
It was reading the Gospels that most excited my left-liberal sensibilities.
As with many people in the modern “woke” movement, this was based on the unquestioned belief that being left-wing was the only thing to do with compassion and kindness. My desire for a “better world” was one of the reasons I sought a spiritual path. Christianity would have been my last choice, because I had been convinced, based on little evidence, that it was uncool and its followers were sandal-wearing right-wing homophobes. Yet paganism, Islam, Buddhism and the new age have brought no satisfaction. To my surprise, and among those around me at the time, it was reading the Gospels that most excited my left-liberal sensibilities.
I relished the challenge of the New Testament. I thought it was easy to be a good person. It was enough to have correct political opinions and the desire to impose them on others.
But Jesus wasn’t telling me to check boxes on the ballot or protest outside the halls of power. He lived under a horrible and cruel regime, but he was remarkably silent about it – he was even kind to the Roman soldiers.
No, “love thy neighbor” seemed a much more practical commandment, as did giving coats, turning cheeks, and its chilling warning about a rich man who ignores a beggar and discovers that his fortunes are reversed from there. ‘other side. I loved Jesus’ strict moral teaching and saw how his practice could change the world. I began to pray and worship, and surprising things happened.
I volunteered at a drop-in party that provided a free meal, clothing, and other support services to anyone who asked. Many suffered from addiction. The left’s response to this intensely destructive disease has been state-sponsored methadone addiction, which slightly limits the damage to the affected individual and society but offers little hope for real change.
Recovering addicts who had traveled the perilous but ultimately rewarding path of sobriety and faith, whether 12-step spirituality or full-throttle Christianity, were different. I met people who once lived in complete despair, who were now satisfied – even happy – and making positive contributions to society. Such transformations seemed miraculous.
Spirituality has had dramatic effects in my own life. The seething rage of the “woke” reminds me of the resentment I used to carry. Some of it stemmed from legitimate grievances, but much of it resulted from blaming others for problems for which I was at least a contributing factor. This tight knot of cranky self-centeredness—what Christians call “sin”—had distorted the lens with which I viewed the world, and my role and responsibilities in it.
I saw the same mechanisms at play in the people around me, including those I previously viewed as helpless victims of society. We are all a complex mixture of pain and suffering, oppressor and oppressed, sinner and saint. The world used to be black and white. I began to see it for what it really is, with complex causes and effects, good and bad choices, cultures and ideas, and a healthy dose of old-fashioned vices such as pride, greed and lust.
Adopting Christianity as just a useful belief system is pointless
It was easy to call out the government and “the elite” for the wrongs of society. It was much harder to roll up my sleeves and do something – even harder to see the results of such efforts. It was easy to complain about the low incomes and extravagance of the rich. It was harder to recognize my incredible blessings and sacrifice my meager salary to good causes. It was easy to be angry at men because I had been mistreated by certain members of the gender. It was harder to recognize that women hurt men too, including me. It was easy to imagine a class of perpetual victims, who needed only government money to free themselves from their misfortunes. It was much, much harder to actually solve deep-rooted societal problems, especially when they were caused at least in part by much more right-wing and conservative concerns such as broken families, wanton drug use, promiscuity and crime.
Some might call it growing up. You don’t need religion to be a “red pill.” However, I discovered that the transcendent brought something much deeper than simple political change. I began to experience and express love in ways I never knew were possible. When I prayed, I gained clarity and subtle impressions of a kind action or a good solution. I observed coincidences, or what some new ageists call “synchronicity,” that seemed to serve a greater purpose and gave exhilarating meaning to life, including its pain and suffering. suffering. I learned that many, many people over the centuries had traveled the same mystical path as me.
For many, God is just an abstract concept used and abused for evil purposes. I experienced something much deeper: the ultimate expression of good, true and beautiful, with a power and intelligence far beyond my limited understanding. So-called “scientific” answers began to become irrelevant, simplistic and almost childish, except in response to a very limited range of questions.
I saw that although the foundations of the West were Christian, its modern construction was doing all it could to extinguish the faith of its ancestors and deny the existence of anything beyond the material world , despite ample evidence to the contrary. I had been deceived by such efforts, and it was of no use to me.
Like Ayaan, I started with practical concerns. But ultimately, adopting Christianity as merely a useful belief system is pointless. It has to be true for it to mean anything. Like many before me, I discovered that God is much more than a politically expedient metaphor.
Ayaan’s Christian profession didn’t surprise me: I’ve read stories and interviewed hundreds of unlikely converts. I’ve even personally known many of them: from divorce lawyers to crack dealers to scientists to gay rights activists. The Church is a diverse consortium far larger than the lazy stereotypes of middle-class leftists or rowdy conservatives.
I don’t blame him for describing his faith in pragmatic terms, because openly expressing his belief in a personal, supernatural God arouses contempt today. Yet this faith has the power to transform lives in ways that political institutions can never transform.
