In July 2007 I was in Cancun preaching an evangelistic series that I hoped would restore my faith which by then had all but evaporated. The first three sermons established the foundation of the entire series, when I made it through the three and was unconvinced by them I knew it was a lost cause.

When I woke up that Sunday morning I knew I what I needed to do, but I wasn’t quite ready to give up. So instead of talking to our faculty sponsor I joined the rest of the group and headed over to Isla Mujeres. It was my hope that the incredible beauty: the turquoise water, the white sand, the warm sun, the tropical flora, and the bikini clad women would distract me from my despicable hypocrisy, but none of it did.

That night I preached anyway, but it wasn’t the same. That was the first time I actually didn’t want to preach. At the end, it was time for an alter call and no one came forward. I wasn’t going to convince myself with my preaching and I sure as hell wasn’t convincing anyone else either. Even though I didn’t quite know it yet, the fourth sermon of that series was the last sermon I would ever preach.

I wanted to believe the traditional Adventist message so bad, but I simply couldn’t. I knew I couldn’t maintain the delusion, I couldn’t keep living a lie. I hated the hypocrite I had become and I knew that if I didn’t do anything about it that I would soon be in a deep depression that was already starting to creep into the recesses of my mind.

The alternative: Give it up, walk away from everything in my life and start over in the strange, almost foreign world outside of the Adventist community. As terrifying as this was, it seemed to be the less terrifying of the options.

I didn’t sleep much that night. My roommate got up at about 7:30 am and we talked until the 9:00 morning meeting. He was surprised, but he understood and he supported what I needed to do. Pastor Juan Attencio, where ever you are now, thank you for that. I sat through the meeting knowing what I needed to do, but dreading the conversation that would make it happen. It drug on for what seemed like an eternity as each person told about the amazing things happening at their sites and I did my best to keep out of it.

Once the meeting was over, I met with Dr. Trevor O’Reggio, our faculty sponsor and I told him that I needed to quit. He then pulled in the coordinator from the sponsoring organization, Harold Kehney of ShareHim. When I told them I was no longer a Christian they were surprised and disappointed. I explained my reasoning and they tried to provide some counter arguments, but nothing they said was something I hadn’t already thought about. Their hour of apologetics not only failed to be convincing, it only further solidified my position.

The funniest thing was towards the end when Dr. O’Reggio said, “You know, this means you’re quitting the seminary.” I responded with something along the lines of, of course, why would I want to stay there now?

When I stepped out of that room I felt free. The burden was finally lifted. I was free of myths, dogma, and more importantly, at least for my sanity, I was free of my cognitive dissonance. My mind had been trying to break free of the bondage it had been in for so long, but on that day I was finally free to think for myself!

I was an apostate and it felt great. July 16, 2007 was the start of a new life, I was a new man. I was finally free! The day after my darkest was the greatest day of my life.

That night I celebrated with a steak and my first beer, a Dos Equis. Today I’m doing the same, although I’m adding in a Rocky Patel Vintage 1999 Connecticut cigar. It’s My Apostasy Day!