Thank you everyone for the warm welcome! Great to see the diversity here, people from all parts of the world and walks of life. And the animals are a plus too
Regarding my name: Iceman from the X-Men universe, Top Gun, and Chuck Liddell are all very cool... however, my username was actually inspired by one of my favorite plays,
The Iceman Cometh by Eugene O'Neill (also by the fact that I like ice and I am a man).
welcome Iceman, i'm new here too
so do your family knows about your apostasy? (mine don't) if yes, how did they take it?
and like UberSlave, i'm also curious on what happened during your Hajj.
if i have to guess, i think it's how pagan-ish Islam really is after all the things it claimed and said about the pagans
for example i remember how muslim mocks christian for eating and drinking the "flesh and blood" of christ, holy water etc, or an idolator praying to a statue of their god, yet muslim circles around Kabah, kissing black stone, throw stones at satan, and sacrifice animal (Qurban)
oh and Islam has it's own holy water, the Zam zam water
My family doesn't know. The first few years of my apostasy, I didn't tell them out of fear--fear that they'd be disappointed in me, that they'd never look at me the same again, that they wouldn't love me anymore. I am definitely lucky in that my family, though devoutly religious, are not the type that would cut me off and disown me, but still the fear of shame and embarrassment was strong through most of my life. However, over the last few years I've reached a point where I don't really care about what people think about me, including what my family thinks about me. Now my reason for keeping it a secret from them is to protect them. As much as I hate their blind and unquestioned devotion to a bunch of nonsense (and how I have to put up a front whenever I'm at home), they have always been loving and proud of me, and aside from the crazy religious stuff, my mother is the nicest person I know and I credit her for a lot of who I am today. I know that if I were to tell her about my unbelief, a piece of her would die inside, and I don't want her to have to go through that grief.
Regarding my Hajj experience: the most vivid memory I have from the experience is something that seems insignificant (and probably is)--lying in a hotel bed in Madina at night thinking about "eternity" and how much it terrified me. Can you imagine living forever and ever and ever and ever without any end? What would there be to look forward to? Just existing, literally forever, without any endpoint in sight, for trillions upon trillions of years. And I thought about how disproportionate the idea of the afterlife was; I do good (or bad) in this life for 20 or 50 or 90 years, and based on that I get to reside in heaven (or hell) for infinity years? Infinity is a long time, and I lay in bed thinking about how it'd actually be nice if there were no such thing as heaven or hell or the hereafter. And then I felt so incredibly guilty and ashamed and sinful for having thought that. After all, Allah knew best, right? How could I have questioned his wisdom? What would my family think?
A few days later, we went to Makkah, and the first thing that struck me was the area directly around Masjid Al-Haram. Fancy hotels with marble floors and shiny walls and luxury spilling out the front doors, and just a block or two away all the squalid, run-down, sometimes even filthy buildings inhabited by the locals. I couldn't understand the disparity. The prayers here lasted so much longer than the prayers in any American mosque I'd ever been in, 30 or 45 minutes each, and they were led by imams whose knowledge and mastery of the Qu'ran were some of the best in the world. Most of these people prayed more in a day than I did in a week. Why didn't Allah make his biggest devotees' conditions better? Why did he let them live in such horrible conditions?
And then there's all the pagan symbolism you mentioned, hikaru. The whole time I was there, I knew I was supposed to be feeling privileged for having the opportunity to perform Hajj, knew I was supposed to be getting closer to god, but the only thing I could think about was how pointless and stupid and idolatrous the whole thing seemed. "Walk seven times between two pillars? To what end? Throw stones at a wall because the devil supposedly stood there centuries ago? Shave my head? And why do I have to wear robes? Just give me a damn pair of boxer shorts. What makes Zam Zam so special? Have scientists tested this stuff? Is it even safe to drink in large quantities? Circling a black rock? What for? How is this supposed to bring me closer to god? Don't people get trampled to death here every year? What kind of god would let that happen to his followers in the holiest of places during the holiest of pilgrimages? A lot of these rituals seem awfully silly, kind of like something a cult-leader would think up to... OH MY GOD, I'm in a cult."
Well, maybe there wasn't a huge epiphany at the end. I was still in denial on the plane ride back to the States, but I think deep down inside I knew my belief had unraveled and shattered and that, like Humpty Dumpty, it couldn't be put back together again. Even after Hajj, it took almost a year of thought and contemplation before the process was finally complete and I was willing to accept that I had become THE A-WORD.
Welcome to the forum Mr Amrikah.
Did someone try to spit game at you in hajj? A friend told me the gaurds there are realy horny
Nope, I didn't experience anything like that, but maybe it's because I'm a guy? I'll have to ask my female cousins if they got harassed at all, haha.
Welcome Iceman. I never knew you were raised Muslim. Does Wolverine know? (Anyone who doesn't get the joke has no taste in literature)
Hell, Logan's the one who converted me to an atheist.
Topic: If apostasy is wrong, I don't want to be right!