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When I was little, I went to church. It wasn’t a particularly pious congregation, and my family wasn’t especially involved. But for a few years my sister and I were in the choir. Even with that involvement though, we were never baptized, as my parents thought I should have the choice. In grade six I started going to a school that had about 90% Jewish kids, and I started to see the power of religion. They didn’t like me, nor did they want to, because of my religion. I was segregated for having a religion that I didn’t practice. But that hellish school didn’t drive me to truly question my religion, and when people asked me what religion I was, I said Christian, United Church, and that was that. It wasn’t until I went to high school that I truly began to question my faith. In high school, I saw the darker, more cynical side of the coin. I was shown both in and out of class the hypocrisy of Christianity, both past and present. I learned about the Spanish Inquisition, and the Crusades, and heard about fiascoes involving priests and young boys, and the horrible shame that the church uses to manipulate its congregations.
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