Pulling the Thread

I didn’t go looking for a reason to leave Christianity. I went looking for understanding. What I found wasn’t scandal, it was editing.

The Bible, as we have it, isn’t a single moment of divine clarity frozen in time. It’s a layered document shaped by translators, councils, empires, and men with something to protect. Once you see that, the question shifts from “Is it true?” to “True for whom?”

Mary Magdalene was never the problem, authority was.

When I began reading the texts that didn’t make it into the final cut, the ones buried, dismissed, or labeled dangerous, Mary Magdalene changed shape. She wasn’t broken. She wasn’t forgiven. She wasn’t silent. She was trusted.

In the Gospel of Mary, she speaks from direct knowing, not borrowed authority. She understands the teaching not because she was obedient, but because she was awake. And that kind of wisdom, especially in a woman, doesn’t fit well inside rigid hierarchies. So, she was rewritten. Not erased completely, just softened, sexualized, made small enough to be harmless.

A Faith That Once Pointed Inward

The earliest layers of Christian teaching feel less like a rulebook and more like an invitation. Jesus sounds less like a judge and more like a guide. The message isn’t “believe this or else” but “look and see.” The kingdom isn’t coming. It’s here.

That language feels familiar to anyone who has brushed up against Eastern traditions, especially Buddhism. Suffering isn’t punished; it’s misunderstood. Liberation doesn’t arrive through obedience, but through awareness. Which might explain why those teachings didn’t last.

When Spirituality Met Empire

As Christianity moved closer to political power, it moved farther from the inner life. Mysticism became suspicious. Direct experience became dangerous. Obedience became holy. A religion that once loosened fear was refashioned to manage it. The focus shifted from transformation to transaction: sin, debt, payment, punishment. A system that works exceptionally well if you’re trying to govern large populations and keep them compliant. Especially if they’re poor. Especially if they’re tired. Especially if they’ve been taught not to trust themselves.

Control Doesn’t Need Malice—Just Structure

I don’t believe this was a single villain’s plan. Systems don’t require cruelty to become controlling; they just require repetition and reward. When spiritual authority lives outside the self, it can be owned. When fear becomes sacred, it can be sold. When salvation is postponed, people will tolerate almost anything.

The Bible, as an institutionally approved object, has long been useful to wealth and power, not because faith is inherently corrupt, but because fear is incredibly efficient.

Why I Keep Looking Anyway

I’m not interested in trading one certainty for another. I’m interested in remembering what was possible before fear took over the conversation. Before awakening was called heresy. Before women were footnotes. Before spirituality was something you needed permission to access.

If parts of Christianity feel more like control than compassion, you’re not failing the faith. You may be sensing the seams. There were other versions of this story. They didn’t vanish because they lacked truth. They vanished because they gave the ability to be whole, back to the people. They do not need a savior. They save themselves. They do not need repentance. They are already everything they were born to be. They do not need a god. They are fully capable of governing themselves. If they didn’t believe they were inherently evil and needing God, they would not project evil everywhere they look. If they saw with love, what they look at would become love.

History shows us we have been indoctrinated into a system of suppression and oppression, where spiritualty is lost and religion is used to manage. If you believe without question, you become a tool for the wealthy and elite to stay in charge and have so much money their families will never be able to spend in an eternity.