When my Gen Y friend Michael confessed publicly that he couldn't believe any longer, it cost him a full ride scholarship and all of his friends but three. But that wasn't the worst of it. Michael had to make a choice: He could stay in his parents' home only if he refrained from "spiritual pornography," meaning any media that were critical of faith. He could stay there only if he kept his doubts muted and invisible. Michael said he couldn't do that and moved out. His mother said it would have been better had he died. His father banned Michael from seeing beloved younger siblings without supervision. (Apparently spiritual pornography can lead to spiritual pedophilia?) Loneliness and despair took him to the brink of suicide.
Michael is warm, funny, and fiercely smart. Today he is back in school at a secular university, going it alone, working his way toward becoming a brain scientist. But the choices he was forced to face and the rejection he experienced are matched in our society only for kids who confess that they are gay.

According to recent Pew data, sixteen percent of Americans say that they don't have a religious affiliation. Other surveys would suggest that most of these still believe in some kind of god, and many probably still identify in some way with Christian teachings. But the fact is, a sizeable number of us no longer ascribe to the faith(s) of our fathers. And for those whose fathers serve a jealous god, the price can be high.

From testimonials at places like exChristian.net; exMormon.org; Faithfreedom.org (leaving Islam) we know that Michael's despair and desperation were not unique. Many who lose religion muddle along in silent shame -- wanting to believe, praying desperately for doubts to be removed, blaming themselves and fending off images of eternal torture before finally giving up the fight. Granted, some lucky few simply flip a bit, but others find themselves dragged reluctantly into an internal conflict takes years.