Open Letter to a Former Drug-Addict Turned Born-Again Christian

Russel Brand

Dear Russel,

Let me say right away, I’m not one to mock your newfound passion. Your love for Christianity seems heartfelt, and I acknowledge your desire to better yourself as a human being. You appear convinced that the Bible holds the key to your transformation, and honestly, there is indeed wisdom nestled within its pages. After all, it was crafted by humanity grappling with the complexities of existence, striving to find meaning in a harsh world. It’s only natural that some of their insights resonate deeply, leading many to believe such wisdom must be divinely inspired.

However, let’s not overlook the more troubling aspects contained within those same pages. The Bible, I fear, is rife with morally dubious, not particularly loving claims attributed to our supposedly all-loving God, which likely have a more earthly origin. At times, it reads almost as a reflection of its very human authors—flawed and fallible—rather than the voice of the divine.

This brings me to a pressing question: What truly draws you to embrace the rather paradoxical world of biblical belief? Is it not a source of cognitive dissonance, grappling with these contradictions? Or perhaps your foray into the Good Book is still in its infancy?

Still, your attraction to Christianity is intriguing. Might it be that this religious fervour, particularly evident within evangelical circles, serves as an euphoric high akin to the effects of certain intoxicating substances? Surely, you’ve heard the old adage, “Once a drug addict, always a drug addict.” It seems particularly fitting here, as you find yourself walking a path trodden by many “born-again” individuals before you who profess to have overcome addiction, only to substitute one potent dependency for another.

Why risk sowing doubt about this newfound “cure”? Those seeking salvation—especially from themselves—are often drawn to evangelicalism, lured by its promise of liberation. It offers a comforting illusion of a different self-image for those yearning to feel absolved from sin and enlightened, while in truth, they are attracted to the high that religious passion provides them.

You are a man of no small intelligence, and it must have crossed your mind that evangelicalism can indeed act as a seductive drug, particularly for people with narcissistic tendencies–not least those who fancy themselves as altruistic figures. They relish the admiration of their peers while often remaining just as manipulative and harmful as any run-of-the-mill narcissist. Religiosity allows them to maintain a lovely facade—one that cloaks their grandiosity and self-righteousness in the guise of humility before God, again allowing them to feel superior.

The allure of being “right” is intoxicating, isn’t it? To believe that you hold the key to truth, while those who choose doubt wander in darkness, that must grant a certain sense of elevation, musn’t it? This mindset fosters fanaticism, as it leaves no space for doubt. Yet might you, deep down, grapple with the realization that it all may just be a fragile construct—sweetly delusional, indeed. For does this transformation genuinely render you a better person?

The evidence suggests otherwise. Many who immerse themselves in evangelical faith still exhibit the same self-serving behavior patterns as before, often failing to engage in the Christ-like actions they so fervently espouse. While some undoubtedly yield positive outcomes, is that the case for the majority?

Consider, too, the numerous leaders of faith who have succumbed to their basest instincts, revealing skeletons long hidden in their closets, perhaps for many years while they led their congregations. The scandals of sexual abuse, hypocrisy, harassment, disgrace, and more among those in the clergy are alarmingly common, and yet their cries of repentance often mask far deeper issues. The missionairies proclaim love for sinners while paradoxically positioning themselves as the arbiters of morality, which begs the question: do they truly embody the virtues they preach?

Those who so eagerly point out the flaws of others are, perhaps unwittingly, casting their own shadows onto those they deem imperfect. The polished façade is a cloak they drape themselves to cover their arrogance and vanity—positing that they are moral paragons while demonizing those who exist outside their beliefs.

Such a worldview can create a chasm between the believer and the world at large, fostering an “us versus them” mentality that breeds fear and hostility. Such a perspective can lead to unhealthy paranoia and justify aggression towards those viewed as adversaries. Isn’t this the tender root of many conflicts?

As a “born-again Christian,” you may find it convenient to brush aside these observations, dismissing them as temptations from the very evil you seek to escape. I do hope, however, that once the euphoric veneer begins to fade, you won’t be left with the aching realization of just how deep you have fallen into the rabbit hole. Will you awaken to the truth that what you thought was salvation may be another form of addiction—one that perfectly sustains a raging narcissism?

For your sake, let’s aspire for you to see your path clearly. There’s still time to step away from the edge and reclaim the potential within you to be a genuine force for good.

Wishing you all the best,
A well-wisher who believes in your capacity for growth.

P.S.
Perhaps watching explains what I mean by “the paradoxical world of biblical belief”.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YnOCpacEOFA 

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