This is my first post. The first portion is my story, and toward the end, you will find the section pertinent to the title of this thread. (starting with the portion in bold print)
I have been following this board for over a month now, and it has proved to be an eye opening experience to say the least. Throughout my life, I have always harbored doubts regarding certain beleifs or doctrines (such as the beleif that the 4 big signs of Christ's presence have already occured and are occuring eg. - pestilence, food shortages, earthquakes, and war), that we are somehow "farther away from perfection" which would imply that we are progressively degenerating from one generation to the next, although our life spans, infant mortality, and disease rates have all markedly declined in the last couple of generations when compared to all of history, and prior to the industrial revolution, life spans remained relatively constant for thousands of years.) I have always considered myself somewhat of a black sheep in that I often found myself being the only one among the crowd who ever raised an eyebrow concerning so many beleifs that are taken for granted within the organization.
I am a very young man, a ministerial servant, and a college student. I am not great with math, but I take pride in my objectivity, my pragmatism, and my open-mindedness. When certain doctrines such as the 144,000 being a literal number of persons are asserted repeatedly, I can't help but find the claim dubious, when as an avid reader of history, I know that there were hundreds of thousands of Christians in the ancient Roman Empire, and even by the the death of the last apostle in 95 AD or whenever that was, there were at least tens of thousands of "true" Christians, as the bible's own internal evidence claims that as much as 5,000 people were baptized at one event in one day, and that there were Christians throughout the entire known world, at least as far east as Babylon, even outside the confines of the gigantic Roman Empire.
As early as 9 or so when studying the Daniel book in Book Study, I remember being very doubtful regarding the fanciful conclusions reached by such simple and ambiguous passages in the bible. The applications given to some of these passages also struck me as rather odd and self-assuming, such as when they claimed that a handful of American bible students were released from Babylonian captivity when they were acquitted and released from prison. Especially dubious to me were all the interpretations of the various King of the North vs King of the South stuff.
At age 12 or so, I began voicing doubts about the interpretation of the flood being literally global in reach, and I was shot down by my mother's zealous friend, and then threatened with being taken to the elders for having a critical attitude and a lack of faith. So I tried to rationalize the flood account to myself, and I supressed the feelings of doubt.
Later on in my teen years, I went through an emotional turmoil when I tried telling my mom that I didn't want to be a witness any longer, not so much for a lack of faith, as for resentment of all the rules. I wasn't allowed to have any friends outside the faith, and so I suffered as a loner at school. Yet none of the youth in the kingdom hall bothered with inviting me anywhere or including me in anything because I wasn't a member of their previously established "click" which aren't supposed to exist in the first place. Then I came across another teenager in my hall, and he and I were great friends. We bonded and had so much in common, and we were the best of friends for about two years. He was actually my only friend. Yet both of us began messing around with girls, watching rated R movies, cursing, and generally living a double life, as were about 90% of the other witness kids. (I only knew of one single witness kid my age who wasn't living a double life and he was a total weirdo who was obsessed with video games and confessed to me that he was a habitual masturbator) His father was an overbearing, some might say physically abusive father, and he was an elder. My friend got busted for some bad behavior, and although he wasn't baptized (I was baptized since the age of 12 and by this time I was 16 and my friend 18), it was announced at the hall that he was no longer an unbaptized publisher, and the elders called my mom to advise her not to allow me to associated with my friend, the same as if he were a disfellowshipped person. So, faced with the prospect of having zero friends in my life as a teenager who craved companionship, while also tired of all the insane restrictions and lists of do's and don'ts, I flipped. I had an emotional breakdown one night and told my mother that I no longer wanted to be a witness. She was so heartbroken over it, that it pained me in my heart beyond all belief, because I love my mother so much. This made me feel like a failure, like a pawn of Satan, and I felt like I had betrayed my mom or broken her heart. So that night I began cutting myself with knives from the kitchen as an outward expression of pain, as I contemplated suicide but could not commit to actually slitting my wrists. After a couple of weeks of living in that hell, and seeing how my relationship with my mother changed so drastically, and also realizing that it would be difficult to live under those cirmstances for the remaining years that I was financially dependent on her, I decided to supress my feelings, change my mind about the "truth", and return to it. After a while, my mom seems to have forgotten that it ever happened, although I think she just pretends to. Although the elder knew of what happened, they apparently did not record it on my publisher's card, because when I moved back to a different state and changed congregations, the new elder body was oblivious to what happened. I encountered a frigidity never experienced before in my new congregation, and this one was rife with nepotism. I managed to get into one of the youth "clicks", none of whom were very "spiritual", and I was happy because I had friends to hang out with. When dynamics changed in my click as a result of a couple of teenage breakups (secret teenage dating is oh so common), I found myself as a member of a splintered group, and as memebers of my group were gradually assimilated into other clicks depending on who ended up dating whom, I found myself yet again on the outside looking in, without any friends. I belonged to no group, and felt like the little guy who tries to butt his head in between the shoulders of his older brothers, trying desperately to be accepted and to belong. I would go to meeting time after time, and greet the older ones, chat with them about the weather or some other mundane topic for a brief moment, and then wander toward some other section of the hall, while all the other youth were busy talking among themselves, busily making recreational plans that I was not included in, and acting as if I were invisible. And it wasn't as if I were an introvert who wasn't "taking the initiative" or "widening out". I am a very socialable, extroverted person, and nobody would ever mistake me for being quiet and shy. I grew so depressed (my mom experienced the same social rejection, and she too remained largely friendless apart from her good friends who lived far away who she still remained in contact with daily by telephone) that I again told my mom that I no longer wanted to be a witness because I just couldn't see the "love amongst themselves" that everyone talked about. I tried subliminating my emotions through more work and activity, so I began reading the bible more, and attempting to reach out for assignments at the hall. I went to the elders on several occassions, and humbly asked for privelleges such as microphone duty or sound system or duty or anything, and despite being the most spiritually mature of the youth available, and being well known and regarded in the hall by the adults for my articulate and heart felt comments and talks, I was always overlooked. Then, when the elders' previously unbaptized sons and grandsons (who were nearly all immature idiots who could barely read, seldom ever commented, and probably never read the bible) got baptized, they were all suddenly carrying the microphones, working the platform, handling the sound, and serving as attendants immediately, and I mean immediately as in the next week after their baptism. There was surely a great deal of nepotism in the hall that really turned me off. With no friends whatsoever, and feeling rejected, I became very cynical and depressed. I contemplated leaving yet again, but instead my mom proposed that perhaps we go to a different hall. This time I stumbled along some Spanish congregations, and although I didn't speak the langauge, I was taken aback by the warmth, humility, and love that I saw there, in such stark contrast to the previous two congregations I was in. So although my mom only spoke some Spanish, and I spoke nearly none, I convinced her to move to that congregation, and so we joined the Spanish. I love languages, so I picked up the language incredibly fast, and I was giving #4 parts in the school within three months. Here I felt noticed, and appreciated. I felt like I belonged, and I felt loved. Although I later found out that the nepotistic elder body had given me a very unsavory review in my publisher's card, my new elders in the Spanish cong were nice to me and took an interest in me. Everyone was impressed with how fast I learned the language, and how I learned it so well, and everyone loved my talks and my comments. I was also in homeschool by this time as a 17 year old senior in high school, so I had the opportunity to regular auxilliar pioneer for several months. Eventually though, I ran into problems with my best friend who was a girl (we both secretly liked each other) because of her lunatic, pharasaical elder father who accussed me of all sorts of horrid things. This led to problems, and I was rejected and given the cold shoulder by her family, the one I depended on for rides to field service and were like my surrogate family. Eventually we patched things up, but it was always awkward from then on. Then when I graduated from high school, I began going to college to pursue my degree (I suffer from a chronic pain disease, so I cannot do the typical physical labor jobs most witnesses work in), and I was criticized for that. Despite this however, I was still doing well in the congregation, and at the age of 19 (just 3 years after my emotional breakdown at age 16) I was appointed a ministerial servant. I have since been a ministerial servant for two years, I have not secretly dated anyone, I have not commited fornication although I've recieved more than one explicit offer, etc. Yet I again find myself in the unenviable position of social outcast. I am so busy with school, work, and theocratic things (I am one of only two servants in my hall, and I have between 1-2 talks as highlights or service meeting parts every week, as well as other assignments to care for such as the accounts, taking out the group, and supervising the departments), that I have very little time for recreation, unlike the other witness youth my age who don't go to school and usually aren't servants, but instead spend their time supposedly out in service as pioneers and only work part-time, or don't work or go to school at all. This leaves me with limited opportunites to hang out with other youth. Also, most of the families are relatively poor, so the only thing they do for fun most of the time is play sports. My diseases precludes me from playing most sports, although I tried to force myself to play basketball through the pain only so I could have someone to associate with in a recreational capacity. This means that yet again, I never really get to socialize with anyone outside of meetings or the occassional congregation gathering, and I therefore belong to no click. As a result, I am seldom ever invited to youth parties, weddings, or anniversies, although I love dancing and social gatherings.
I'm sorry that I've digressed so much, and you must have grown weary of all this complaining by now, but this is the first time I've written down these thoughts in such a systematic way. Please forgive me.
Anyway, now at the age of 21, after having taken an interest in logic, critical thinking, and a little bit of science, I have decided to investigate my doubts, to see if there were any rational basis for them. And I've found that there are huge gaping holes in much of the docrtine, logistical impossiblites and contradictions in the bible, and unethical journalism commited by the society. So now I feel like my world has come crashing down on me. I feel as if I have been lied to my entire life (I haven't determined if the governing body is criminal and insincere or just naive), and been given a false hope about the future. I never put much stock in the assertion that Armageddon was necessarily iminent beyond any shadow of doubt as most witnesses steadfastly believe, but now that I know 1914 is all a crock, I feel no sense of urgency at all. Yet I at least hoped that eventually the new perfect world would come in my lifetime, rid me of my poor health, and allow me to never have to die and cease to exist. Now that powerful hope is gone. I am depressed beyond all comprehension.
I now have serious doubts about the authenticy or inerrancy of the bible, and without the bible, this leads me to doubt the existence of God, or at least the type of God as depicted in the bible, the only image of God I ever knew. This would lead me to believe in evolution, but at the same time, the theory of evolution as well as life evolving from non-living matter with a "First Cause" seems equally improbable to me. Then Pascal's wager comes to mind, and so on and so on. It's all so earth shattering and depressing. I remain a servant, because I can't come to grips with destroying my relationship with my mother, and I can't step down from being a servant without raising serious questions as to why.
But to get to the topic of this post, I'm often so sickened when people or my mother tell me how important it is that I pray for others. I have seen my mother get on her hands and knees and cryingly beg Jehovah for help, only to have her prayers go unanswered, while she subsequently always rationalizes away His lack of response, as him giving her a lesson in endurance, or answering her prayers by some other means she can't define. She insists she believes in the power of prayer because she claims to have felt a supernatural sense of calm twice in her life after having prayed in the midst of a very difficult situation. I explain to her that people from all faiths make this claim, and that brain scans show this kind of brain activity in those who pray, leading us to the conclusion that the sense of calm is self-induced, because you convince yourself that you have a supernatural being in your corner, fighting your fight for you. It is a placebo, unless of course we are willing to admit that Jehovah answers the prayers of and blesses Catholics, Muslims, Mormons, and people of all other faiths who pray to Jesus or the Trinity or to the Virgin Mary.
Lately with the recent earthquake in Japan, my mom repeatedly encourages me to pray for our brothers. But what does he ever do for people? She also tells me to pray to help her find a job, as she is again left unemployed despite all of her prayers. The last time she was unemployed, she went unemployed for more than two years, again despite her persistent begging for deliverance. I try reasoning with her by pointing out how inconsistent claims to the power of prayer are. People here in the U.S. frequently cite their good fortune after having made some sacrifice as a sign of a blessing from God, or they point to themselves or others finding that perfect job after they prayed for it, and thus their prayers are answered. "I needed a job that provided me with health insurance, and Jehovah gave me just what I needed". Yet, what about all the near starving brothers and sisters in Africa, who live in abject poverty on less than a dollar a day, whose daughters and wives are gang-raped by travelling bands of militia? They certainly don't have health insurance for themselves and their children. Many of them probably have no access to medical care at all. Yet they pray just the same as Americans and Europeans do. Does Jehovah simply not like black people? Are African people's prayers somehow of less value?
Also, why do we need to pray? Why is it so important that I pray for the brothers in Japan? Is Jehovah's mercy and his providing emotional support and his holy spirit to the brothers of Japan contingent upon my prayers, and the total number of prayers made by other witnesses? The implication is that if we don't pray, Jehovah won't do anything for them. Yet, if he already knows exactly what we need before we even ask him for it as the scriptures say, then why is it so crucial that we pray for him to give help to others? Is he so cruel as to withold his mercy and his blessing if he doesn't get enough petitions for help? They make it seem as if he's some senator or congressman who won't move on an issue unless enough of his constituents write in petitions for help. "We need you to vote for the stimulus package so that our local bridge can be rebuilt. Please do something". Or is it more of a show of solidarity for own piece of mind? The logic is just so off. Has anyone else ever thought about this particular thing?