ANCIENT ECHOES PODCAST: WHY I NO LONGER BELIEVE IN GOD (JESSUP PA)

BY: JERIC YURKANIN

One of the observations that significantly influenced my thinking was noticing how often religious explanations changed when science provided better answers. Throughout history, many events and conditions that were once explained through supernatural causes eventually received natural explanations. What was once attributed to demons, curses, evil spirits, divine punishment, or spiritual weakness became understood through medicine, psychology, biology, and neuroscience.

A few hundred years ago, many religious leaders genuinely believed that seizures were evidence of demonic possession. When someone collapsed, convulsed, lost consciousness, or behaved in unusual ways, the explanation was often spiritual rather than medical. People were prayed over, subjected to exorcisms, or treated as though evil spirits were responsible for their condition. Today, we understand that many seizures are caused by neurological disorders such as epilepsy. Brain activity, not demons, explains what earlier generations could not understand.

The same pattern can be seen with mental illness. For much of history, conditions such as severe depression, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, anxiety disorders, and other psychological conditions were poorly understood. Religious explanations often filled the gap. Some individuals were viewed as spiritually oppressed, demonized, cursed, or lacking faith. As scientific understanding developed, many of these conditions became better understood through psychology, psychiatry, and neuroscience.

Developmental disabilities provide another example. Conditions such as autism, Down syndrome, intellectual disabilities, and other neurological differences were often misunderstood throughout history. In many societies, including some religious communities, unusual behavior was interpreted through spiritual or moral lenses rather than medical ones. Families were sometimes blamed. Individuals were sometimes stigmatized. In extreme cases, disabilities were viewed as punishments, curses, or signs of spiritual problems.

Today, science offers explanations that earlier generations simply did not possess. Researchers study genetics, brain development, environmental influences, and neurological processes. While many questions remain, our understanding is dramatically greater than it was centuries ago. Conditions once surrounded by fear and superstition are now approached with medical knowledge, educational support, and greater compassion.

What struck me was not that people in the past lacked scientific knowledge. That is understandable. What struck me was how confidently religious authorities often claimed to have answers that later proved incorrect. They were not merely admitting ignorance. They were frequently presenting supernatural explanations as certainty.

This pattern appears repeatedly throughout history. Diseases were attributed to divine judgment until medicine explained them. Mental illnesses were attributed to spiritual causes until psychology provided better understanding. Natural disasters were attributed to God’s anger until scientific explanations emerged. Again and again, supernatural explanations retreated as human knowledge expanded.

One of the questions this raised for me was simple: if religious leaders were so often mistaken about these issues, why should we automatically trust them on other claims that cannot be tested or verified?

History shows that sincere people can be wrong. Pastors can be wrong. Priests can be wrong. Religious scholars can be wrong. Entire generations can be wrong. Good intentions do not guarantee accurate conclusions.

Another observation that influenced my thinking was how often Christianity adapts after society changes. When scientific discoveries become overwhelming, many religious groups eventually adjust their interpretations. When social attitudes change, interpretations often change. When historical evidence challenges traditional assumptions, new explanations frequently emerge.

To many believers, this flexibility is viewed as a strength. They see it as deeper understanding. To skeptics, however, it can sometimes look like theology following evidence rather than leading it.

Consider how many Christians today distance themselves from interpretations that previous generations considered obvious. Beliefs once defended passionately from pulpits are now dismissed as misunderstandings. Teachings once treated as unquestionable are reinterpreted or abandoned. Yet many believers speak as though Christianity has remained essentially unchanged throughout history.

The historical record suggests something more complicated. Christianity has evolved. Interpretations have evolved. Doctrines have evolved. Church practices have evolved. The way believers understand scripture has evolved.

This does not necessarily mean Christianity is false. Every tradition develops over time. However, it does challenge the common claim that modern believers simply hold the exact same views that Christians have always held.

What often happens is that uncomfortable parts of history are forgotten. Modern Christians may condemn beliefs that earlier Christians strongly defended. They may look back and wonder how previous generations could have been so wrong. Yet rarely do they ask what current beliefs might someday be viewed in the same way.

History encourages humility. If sincere believers were mistaken about slavery, segregation, mental illness, disabilities, scientific discoveries, and numerous other issues, it seems reasonable to acknowledge the possibility that current interpretations may also contain errors.

One lesson I took from this pattern is that certainty should be approached cautiously. Human knowledge grows. Understanding improves. New evidence emerges. Ideas once considered obvious may later prove mistaken.

Science is not perfect. Scientists make mistakes. The difference is that science contains mechanisms for correcting those mistakes. Hypotheses are tested. Evidence is examined. Conclusions are revised when better information becomes available.

Religious systems can also change, but they often present their conclusions as eternal truths rather than provisional understandings. When those conclusions later change, the revisions are sometimes presented as though they were obvious all along.

For me, this raised a deeper question. If God was clearly guiding religious understanding, why did it so often take scientific discovery, cultural progress, or social pressure for believers to recognize mistakes that seem obvious in hindsight?

The answer many skeptics propose is that religion often reflects the knowledge and assumptions of the people practicing it. As human understanding expands, religious interpretations adjust accordingly. What appears to be divine revelation may sometimes be human beings doing their best to understand a complex world with the information available to them.

Ultimately, studying the history of epilepsy, mental illness, developmental disabilities, disease, and scientific discovery taught me an important lesson: ignorance often creates space for supernatural explanations. As knowledge increases, those explanations frequently become less necessary.

That realization did not answer every question about God. However, it did make me more cautious about accepting claims simply because they are presented with religious certainty. History demonstrates that even sincere religious leaders can be profoundly mistaken. Understanding that fact encouraged me to place greater trust in evidence, investigation, and intellectual humility than in confidence alone.

Looking back, one of the strongest arguments for humility is the simple recognition that every generation believes it understands more than the one before it. Often, it does. The challenge is remembering that future generations may someday look back at us and see blind spots we cannot yet recognize ourselves.

THE BIBLE, HUMAN STORYTELLING, AND THE PROBLEM OF CHANGING INTERPRETATIO

As I continued questioning Christianity, I found myself asking a fundamental question about the Bible itself. If the Bible is the perfect and unchanging word of God, why has it been interpreted in so many different ways throughout history? Why have sincere Christians, reading the same book, reached completely different conclusions about slavery, segregation, women, war, politics, wealth, science, sexuality, and countless other issues?

For most of my life, I was taught that the Bible was clear. If people simply read it honestly, they would arrive at the truth. Yet history did not seem to support that claim. Instead, I found thousands of denominations, competing interpretations, theological disagreements, church splits, and endless debates about what the Bible actually means.

This raised a difficult question. If God intended the Bible to be humanity’s guidebook, why does it require so much interpretation? Why do educated scholars, pastors, priests, and theologians disagree so dramatically about its meaning? Why has the same text produced so many different versions of Christianity?

The more I studied, the more I realized that every person reads the Bible through a lens. Nobody approaches scripture completely neutral. We bring our culture, upbringing, experiences, assumptions, politics, fears, and hopes into the text. As a result, people often find different things in the same passages.

A wealthy businessman may focus on verses about personal responsibility. A social activist may focus on verses about justice and caring for the poor. A nationalist may focus on authority and order. A pacifist may focus on loving enemies. Each person believes they are simply reading the Bible, but often they are reading their own priorities into it.

This does not necessarily happen intentionally. Human beings naturally interpret information through their existing worldview. We notice evidence that supports our beliefs and often overlook evidence that challenges them. Psychologists call this confirmation bias, and it affects religious people and nonreligious people alike.

As I examined Christian history, I became increasingly convinced that many believers create versions of God that reflect their own values. Instead of changing themselves to fit God, they reshape God to fit themselves. Throughout history, Christians have claimed that God supported kings, republics, capitalism, socialism, slavery, abolition, war, peace, segregation, integration, and countless other contradictory positions.

At some point, I had to ask whether people were truly discovering God’s will or simply projecting their own beliefs onto God.

Another issue that influenced my thinking was the process by which biblical stories developed. Long before the invention of modern recording devices, stories were passed from person to person. They were remembered, retold, preached, translated, copied, and interpreted. Human memory is powerful, but it is not perfect.

Anyone who has spent time in workplaces, families, sports teams, churches, or social organizations has seen stories change over time. Details are added. Emotions are amplified. Memories become less precise. Events are retold in ways that make them more dramatic, more meaningful, or more inspiring.

This does not necessarily mean people are lying. Most of the time, they genuinely believe what they are saying. Human memory simply does not function like a video recorder. We reconstruct memories rather than replay them exactly as they happened.

Historians recognize that stories often grow over time. Legends develop. Heroes become larger than life. Important figures acquire miraculous stories. Communities shape narratives to communicate values and identity. These processes are common throughout human history.

When I began examining religious texts through this lens, I found myself wondering whether some biblical stories may reflect these same human tendencies. The question was not necessarily whether every story was false. The question was whether the Bible looked more like a product of divine perfection or a product of human storytelling.

Another factor that shaped my thinking was the history of biblical interpretation itself. Many Christians today speak as though their understanding of scripture has always existed. Yet church history reveals constant debates, disagreements, and revisions.

Theological positions that seem obvious today were once controversial. Doctrines that seem central now took centuries to develop. Different Christian groups argued passionately over issues that many modern believers barely think about. This historical reality made Christianity appear less like a fixed system and more like an evolving conversation.

The issue becomes even more complicated when translation is considered. Most modern Christians do not read the Bible in its original languages. Instead, they read translations produced by scholars who must make countless interpretive decisions. Words rarely translate perfectly between languages. Cultural concepts often lack direct equivalents. Context matters.

This does not mean translations are worthless. It simply means that interpretation is unavoidable. Every translation reflects human choices. Every study Bible reflects human judgments. Every sermon reflects human perspectives.

The more I realized this, the less convincing the idea of a perfectly clear and self-explanatory Bible became.

I also noticed that many Christians treat difficult passages differently than they treat comforting ones. Passages that align with modern values are often emphasized. Passages that seem troubling are frequently explained away, reinterpreted, or ignored. This selective approach is understandable, but it raises questions about consistency.

If the Bible is entirely clear and timeless, why do believers constantly decide which passages should be emphasized and which should be understood differently? Why do interpretations change so dramatically across cultures and generations?

One answer may be that people are constantly negotiating between ancient texts and modern realities. They are attempting to preserve religious traditions while adapting to changing knowledge, moral progress, and social expectations. This process is deeply human.

As I reflected on these issues, I found myself increasingly drawn to a simpler explanation. Perhaps the Bible reflects humanity’s attempts to understand God rather than God’s perfect communication to humanity. Perhaps it contains wisdom, insight, poetry, moral teachings, and spiritual reflection while still remaining a fundamentally human collection of writings.

This perspective helped explain many of the contradictions and disagreements I observed. It explained why interpretations change. It explained why churches divide. It explained why cultural values influence theology. It explained why sincere believers can reach opposite conclusions while reading the same text.

One of the most significant realizations of my journey was understanding that meaning and truth are not always the same thing. A story can be meaningful without being historically accurate. A tradition can provide comfort without being literally true. A religious text can contain wisdom without being infallible.

Many people assume that questioning biblical inerrancy requires rejecting everything the Bible contains. I no longer see it that way. Human literature can contain profound insights. Ancient texts can inspire compassion, courage, and reflection. The fact that a book may be human does not mean it is worthless.

What changed for me was the realization that human origins seemed to explain the Bible more effectively than supernatural origins. The complexity, contradictions, evolving interpretations, historical debates, cultural influences, and denominational divisions all appeared consistent with what we would expect from a collection of human writings produced over centuries.

Ultimately, Part 6 brought me back to one central question: Does the Bible look more like a perfect message delivered by an all-knowing God, or does it look like a library of human writings shaped by history, culture, memory, politics, tradition, and storytelling?

For much of my life, I assumed the first answer was correct. The more I studied history, human psychology, and biblical scholarship, the more plausible the second answer became.

Whether others reach the same conclusion or not, I believe the question deserves honest examination. Because if truth matters, then no book, no tradition, and no belief should be beyond careful investigation. The search for truth requires curiosity, humility, and the willingness to follow evidence wherever it leads—even when it leads us somewhere unexpected.