3.5. On paper, Sentilles' religious background is similar to mine - mainline Protestant in her early adult life, but with a mixed-faith background that gave her an early understanding of religious diversity. I enjoyed her encounters with different theologies and following her experience of leaving a belief system that defined her identity.

However, I didn't connect with this book on a deeper level because Sentilles' experience of religion is quite different from mine. In part, her Catholic upbringing and its emphasis on personal guilt is something very foreign to me. But it's also because her spirituality is defined by emotion, whereas by the time I was in college, mine was a lot more intellectual, so that my journey out of faith was a matter of struggling with thorny philosophical issues rather than shedding an emotional relationship with God. From this perspective, I "broke up with God" a lot earlier than Sentilles. Because Sentilles' adult faith was tied to changing denominations after college, I actually think that her experience was more like an adult convert's.

In general, I'm pretty choosy about memoirs; life so rarely has the narrative structure that makes for a really compelling story. But I think this would be the perfect book for the right reader. And it did help me reflect on my own belief journey and the challenge of being an outsider to a religion while still feeling the call to engage with its ideas and language. (Alas, unlike some of the theologians in this book, being some kind of agnostic Christian has absolutely zero appeal to me.) ( )

Like Craig Thompson's "Blankets" and Madeleine L'Engle's "Ring of Endless Light," this book and its protagonist's struggle with faith and religion resonates with me on so many levels. Sentilles, who grew up in the church and spent many years studying theology and the ministry, evaluates her relationship with Christianity as if examining a personal romantic relationship, from the initial infatuation to the “going steady,” the highlighting of differences and the eventual parting. She raises many of the questions that have been tossed around amongst others my age — the divergence between the human concept of God and what God is; the alignment of churches with politics and government; the fallibility of doctrine and heresy; the manipulation of scripture and spiritual authority. She addresses Christianity through the lens of various theologians, historians, thinkers, and writers, taking their views and perspectives on faith and examining them in comparison and contrast to her slowly developing personal views. And although I find myself still somewhere in the midst of these, Sentilles’ conclusions and eventual separation from organized Christianity also strikes a chord with me. ( )

I have been wanting to read a book like this for a while. When I was studying theology as an undergrad, I remember reading a theologian or philosopher who had left faith behind comment that theology was the weaker for having no balance on one side. There is a range and diversity of ways to believe and degrees of faith, but once a person crosses a line of doubt to unbelief (or no longer thinking "Do I believe?" is an interesting way of framing a question.) that person's voice is no longer part of the religious conversation. So when I broke up with g*d and Christianity, I had to leave behind the conversation entirely, even though I only moved incrementally away from the place I used to stand. Breaking Up with God allowed me to revisit the conversation. I'm grateful for that.

The opening of the book was good, but I did not identify with her childhood experience of G*d. It wasn't bad or poorly written, but it was for me, the least engaging part of an otherwise very engaging book. Her story about being a young woman at college with an eating disorder was also foreign to my understanding, but compelling. It matched what I've with other biographies about eating disorders (Such as She Was Once a Runner) and is clearly something I should understand better to keep from perpetuating the abuse and suffering.

The story of her theological education was emotionally and intellectually very powerful. It was cathartic to read another love story of theology. Personally, I never felt as at home in a church as I did in a theology or religious philosophy class. That was my place and immersing myself in those thought-spaces again was comfortably nostalgic. I left Christianity over 15 years ago, but I remember intense pleasure in discovering that a better concept of g*d did away with much of the troubling nature of religion, especially dealing with power, epistemology, and gender issues.

It was especially comforting to read her experiences with loving the kind of g*d certain theologians help us see and then not recognizing that in any of the manifestation of church. I'm not attempting to be rude or rain on anyone's parade, but since I became an adult, churches have been universally horrid places for me to be in. Yes there is love and acceptance, but it comes at a price I'm unwilling or unable to pay. I've found that, as related in Breaking up with G*d, my difficulty with the text of prayers, lyrics of hymns, questioning of gender roles, or labeling evil behavior in scripture as evil, is unwelcome and I won't leave that behind. I am welcome, but my thought processes are not. What I love as a vital part of my being I'm supposed to gratefully cast aside as a burden and a sin. Breaking up with G*d helped me remember that there are beautiful things connected to theology that are outside of church and religious society. Even if I don't want to get back together, it's a nice feeling to miss the old relationship.

The close of the book, with its abrupt shift of focus to food felt right to me. The author has a clear heart and a story worth telling, but she is still learning the craft of writing. At times the narrative seemed tentative or the structure seemed unplanned. So, when she suddenly turned to food, I feared for the narrative. Somehow, it felt right. She found an emotional and spiritual metaphor that rang true without making it overly blunt or pedantic. What she found by breaking up with g*d is similar to what we can find by breaking up with Agriculture Inc. We all have to eat, but there is something wholesome to be found in locally grown produce that simply does not exist in Monsanto or McDonald's fare.

I suppose that's not going to sit well with people who feel healthy and satisfied in the system she left, but I found great comfort in it. I also found a hope that since she succeed in articulating what I loved about thinking about g*d and what also what repelled me, I could also succeed in bridging that gap with others who never felt the need to leave. I love a lot of believers, but I struggle to respect the institutions of belief.

So, yes, this isn't a perfect book. Not every part of her experience resonated with my own, but it brought me to a place of gratitude and love for an effort I have abandoned. For that I thank her. ( )

About fifty years ago, there was a hymn entitled “A Mighty Fortress is our Church”, a parody of Luther's standard “A Mighty Fortress is our God”, about people who confuse their physical church with their faith. The title came into my mind while reading this book. My first reaction is that I don't think Shenilles ever had a faith to lose, but perhaps if one means faith in the sense of trust, rather than faith in sense of believing in the existence of God, it makes some sense.

This is a rather rambling memoir, and a little long for its content, in my opinion. The book went on long after I thought point was concluded, apparently to show that she and her husband are good people, even if she decided not to espouse God. I lost track in the meanderings of whether or not she still believes that God exists, but just doesn't believe that He is the one for her.

Shenilles found a church that she really liked, and made the decision to leave it behind to study theology on the opposite coast. She wanted to be the special one, the chosen one, the leader, the priest. This, apparently, is her idea of faith. She didn't bother to go to another church while she was studying, which she admits should have told her something, but then she would only have been worshipping God, not leading the congregation. While working on her doctorate and beginning the process of ordination, she became disillusioned with the actual business of serving as a priest, which seems to me to be separate from what one normally thinks of as faith. The congregants were a great disappointment, failing to share her beliefs and not always liking her sermons. One would have thought that all that studying of various theological ideas would have prepared her for controversy. Perhaps she feels that God failed her by not supplying a descending dove and an approving voice out of heaven. If he wasn't more supportive, then the wedding/ordination was off.

I am trying not to be too disappointed because this wasn't what I expected, which was something of a struggle with religious ideas and ideals. Instead, Shenille comes off as a rather bewildered young woman. One can only hope that she will find a use for her education and a sense of direction in life. Hopefully her marriage will give her the sense of being special that she craves. ( )

I had to start making a list of all the parts of this book I need to go back and reread. Some really great quotes in here! ( )