Warning: no disrespect of religious beliefs intended!! I just want to share some personal experiences and thoughts.
As a child, I had a complicated relationship with God.
In my religious family He was very present, as were Jesus and the Virgin Mary. I used to love the crib at Xmas, the candles, the carols and hymns. The church gave colour, warmth and depth to my life. It also increased my guilt and shame.
At age four or five, I made a momentous discovery and told my mother (who was bent on destroying my individuality) about it. In my head I can say whatever I want. My mother replied that I couldn't, because God saw me. That was a terrible moment. A critical, condemning, judgemental God, an extension of my parents, entered my head then, and took my newly discovered freedom of thought away.
At my First Communion I was terribly worried about being unworthy and maybe having hurt Jesus by not letting him melt enough on my tongue.
When I was eight, the physical abuse was so bad I frequently thought I'd die. My reliogiosity increased and I got into the habit of going to mass every morning before school. The church was dark then, only a few candles were lit, there was hardly anybody there. I'd sit down in a pew, follow the motions and cry. At the beginning of the mass I usually was in a state of great distress and told God all about the terrible things that had happened to me and how unfair it was. There was a space in me for an understanding God, to him I spoke. I knew he knew how bad it all was. Deeper down there was another space that I invariably reached, where God saw what a bad child I was and how I needed to improve (that's what the priest said during confession, you have to be respectful of your mother). By the end of mass I made all sorts of resolutions to behave better so as not to be beaten. On good days, the kind God would smile on me, warm my heart and I'd be more or less ready for a new day. On bad days, I felt utterly alone.
(For days on end the priest saw a crying child, alone by herself, in morning mass and never ever came to talk to her. Of course, my parents were pillars of the community.)
I lost my faith when I was fifteen, after a great internal struggle. It was a major step towards liberating my mind.
Of course I don't believe religious people are more abusive than atheists. But I do believe that abusive people, when religious, will acquire a special brand of self-righteousness and use religion as an instrument of (further) oppression. In her autobiography, Mary McCarthy posits that religion is only beneficial to people who are already good, whereas it makes bad people worse.
That's definitely my experience.
Bee
