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Leaving Worship: From Worship Leader to Atheist Activist
Leaving Worship: From Worship Leader to Atheist Activist
Leaving Worship: From Worship Leader to Atheist Activist
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Leaving Worship: From Worship Leader to Atheist Activist

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This candid autobiography of Steve Dustcircle's is focused mostly on his deconversion over the years, what led him to leaving Christianity, and the problems within religion itself. Told in narration style, he tells of the contradictions in the Bible, the errors of the Christian church, and how the people within religion could see things differently.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherHudson Books
Release dateDec 27, 2015
ISBN9781311260543
Leaving Worship: From Worship Leader to Atheist Activist
Author

Steve Dustcircle

Originally from Chicago, Steve Dustcircle comes from a background in religious ministry and music performance, but now has his hand in many forms of activism, mostly focused on free thought and human rights. He is an amid reader and doer.Steve authored or edited several books: Trump's Cabinet, Leaving Worship, Politics for the Disinterested, Black Panther 101, and many others.Steve has contributed to The Good Men Project, OpEd News, Counter Currents, Ex-ChristianNet, and others. He lives in central Ohio and loves good coffee and stimulating conversation.Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/dustcircle

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    Book preview

    Leaving Worship - Steve Dustcircle

    LEAVING WORSHIP

    From Worship Leader to Atheist Activist

    LEAVING WORSHIP

    From Worship Leader to Atheist Activist

    By Steve Dustcircle

    SMASHWORDS EDITION

    © Copyright 2016 aLife Beyond Books

    Columbus, Ohio, USA

    http://www.stevedustcircle.us

    Copyright © 2016 by Steve Dustcircle

    All rights reserved.

    For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed Attention: Permissions Coordinator, at the address below.

    aLife Beyond Books

    c/o Hudson Media

    P.O. Box 163381

    Columbus, OH 43216

    www.aLifeBeyondBooks.com

    Cover design by Steve Dustcircle.

    Ordering Information:

    Orders by U.S. trade bookstores and wholesalers.

    Please contact Steve Dustcircle at: eatheist@inbox.com; or visit www.aLifeBeyondBooks.com.

    Printed in the United States of America

    Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data

    Dustcircle, Steve.

    Leaving Worship / Steve Dustcircle.

    p. cm.

    ISBN-10: 1481875701 (Amazon)

    ISBN-13: 978-1481875707 (Amazon)

    ISBN: 9781311260543 (Smashwords)

    1. Nonfiction » Religion, Philosophy

    I. Dustcircle, Steve. II. Title.

    Smashwords Edition

    10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

    TABLE OF CONTENTS:

    Introduction

    01. In the Beginning

    02. My Childhood

    03. Dead Be Not Proud

    04. Music

    05. Busboy

    06. Back Story: Song

    07. Lewis & Clark Witnessing

    08. Breaking Up with Jesus

    09. X Out of Christmas

    10. God Hates Fag-Haters

    11. All Religions Are False/True

    12. Bible De-Composition

    13. Prayer Changes Nothing

    14. The 10 Legalistic Suggestions

    15. Slavery

    16. Supposed 'Free Will'

    17. You vs. The World

    18. So Emotional

    19. I'm Every Man

    20. Residue

    21. Enclosing Guarantees

    About the Author

    For Dr. Victor Stenger,

    for exposing the failed hypothesis and the folly of faith

    LEAVING WORSHIP

    From Worship Leader to Atheist Activist

    INTRODUCTION

    This book is part autobiography and part philosophy.

    When I tell people that I'm not a religious person, they either assume I'm mad at God, want to live an evil life, or am just going through a phase.

    No, I was a real Christian. I had real faith. I did real Christian things and had real Christian experiences. I'm not in rebellion, and I'm not wanting to live an evil lifestyle. On the contrary, I feel I may have become even more ethical and moral since leaving Christianity.

    I did Christian things. I spoke in tongues, I prophesied, and I felt the Holy Spirit. Also, I helped lead others into these experiences. They were real experiences. If they weren't, then any religious person could possibly be misled.

    Going from leading others in praise and worship to leaving worship, and killing the fear I had of God wasn't taken lightly. My deconversion was like seeing a loved one die, the relationship that I had with my god.

    May you read this book with an open mind. May my candid story and views be respected, as some are vulnerable to share.

    Sincerely, Steve

    IN THE BEGINNING

    I've always considered myself a Christian, even from a young age. When asked one time what was the one thing I’d pull from my home if it ever caught on fire, I answered, my Bible. Not that I read the book at the time, but I revered it. It was yet holy. An icon.

    I’ve always had early memories. I remember being in a baby carrier or car seat as an infant, looking up at an overpass from a parking lot. We moved from that apartment into our home after I turned one.

    I remember trying to climb into my brother’s playpen. I must have been around 2 years old.

    I remember specifically turning 6 years old, and that my dinner selection for my birthday was McDonald's.

    I remember being in trouble at times, but I thought I was a decent kid. My family's friends thought we were just good little boys.

    Sure I did stupid things, like disobey my parents. And when I got to my preteen years, I started to steal. Nothing big: a comic book here, loose change there. Nothing too big.

    I remembered my Sunday school lessons about the Ten Commandments. I knew them by heart, in order. If I can get each of those commandments down, I would be more pleasing to God.

    Stealing was an occasional hobby, one I’d stop doing eventually. If only I can obtain all Ten Commandments before I died.

    I never killed anyone. I didn’t use the name of God in vain, whatever that meant. I didn’t even really cuss. I went to church every Sunday, and when my mother was alive, we went 2 or 3 times a week. I didn’t covet my neighbor’s wife, as she was old. Her daughter wasn’t too bad looking though.

    In my mind, I was half way to God-approved, and needed to only get half my life in order. At 10 years old, I felt I wasn’t doing half bad, and that maybe God would understand if I fatally got hit by a car.

    I also knew some of the Bible stories, at least the watered down ones, accompanied by a pretty pastel picture of white Jesus holding a lamb, or crossing a body of water to a well-crafted boat of scared fishermen in a downpour. But not everything is this pretty.

    There was also paintings at the Christian bookstore I’ve seen as a child, of the end times. Bodies falling out of buildings, others flying into the sky in white linens. Planes crashing into buildings, cars crashing, supposedly unmanned. The gruesome future were depicted in my own renditions of copyright-violating doodles.

    Salvation, death, the Devil, the Shepherd, my sin, Hell, reward. Many ideas—some ambiguous, some beyond comprehension—clouded my conscience. I had to chew on all of this before I hit my double-digits in years, and at the same time, try to maintain a suitable grade point average, try to keep my dad from spanking me, and not get also beat up at school.

    Basically, I needed a mental break. I went on sabbatical. I watched movies with nudity at friends’ houses. I started to steal. I started to grab girls’ boobs. I started to cuss. I started to be a normal preteen. And I felt a bit at peace.

    MY CHILDHOOD

    You know that moment when you release something into the air, realize that it’s about to land on something or somebody, and you hunch over hoping the inevitable won’t happen? And as it’s happening, you’re trying to figure out what to say to make everything better, when that falling object lands on the thing or person? I have had moments like that all my life.

    I do something, and hope there’s no repercussion. Remorse, I think. Once I do something, I immediately realize it’s a bad idea, and I hope that it doesn’t have serious consequences. I did that with a rock one time. I was about twelve years old. Small rock, dark red, and barely heavier than a piece of wood. I hurled one time on the way to church, aiming straight down the tree line, to land on the sidewalk way down in front of us. Where it went, I didn’t

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