I was taught growing up that blaspheming the Holy Spirit meant that, from your heart of hearts, you reject and renounce the Holy Spirit and verbally slander Him and His works and character to others. It is a deliberate act. My mother defined it as someone who has seen and felt the power of the Holy Spirit and then claims later that not only was there no Holy Spirit and takes the credit for themselves. In other words, denying the power and the divinity of something that they know, in their heart of hearts, exists. By either of these definitions, there are a number of very vocal atheists, deists, and non-theists out there who have knowingly committed this unforgivable sin.
It is also the one thing that pops up in my head as I continue to sort out my feelings and past in regards to religion. For example, when I was seventeen I was sure that God/The Holy Spirit was telling me to go on a mission trip to Ireland. Of course, I really really wanted to go to Ireland. Then a guy from Ireland showed up at my church to talk about that very mission trip and I felt like that must be a sign from God. Now, I look back on this and think, yeah...I was seventeen and really wanted to travel, particularly to Ireland. I would have taken a four leaf clover as sign if that guy hadn't come along. By me denying this being a supernatural event, I am basically stating that I don't believe in the Holy Spirit and his power.
What about that time that one of my fellow church members gave me $1000 because my asshole-roommate moved out owing me that much in bills? Was the Holy Spirit leading him or did he just feel moved by my plight? Now, I believe it was the second option. He probably still believes it was the first.
Or that time that I needed to raise $500 more dollars for another mission trip (I have been on five) and a random stranger gave it to my mom after she asked some ladies as a women's conference to pray for me.
And what about that day that I got the gift of tongues. What a terrifying and confusing evening that was. For years I wanted to believe that the gibberish coming out of my mouth was probably (possibly, hopefully) some language from a foreign country. Like I was speaking some dialect of Hindi or something. How do I know this wasn't the Holy Spirit? Because I can do it now, even though I am not a believer anymore. I can speak in tongues the way I did as a kid and teenager and it sounds the fucking same.
More than the fear of hell, this idea of committing an unforgivable sin has been the hardest thing to shake. Coupled with the idea that all those times I felt the Holy Spirit it was really just my own conscience and overactive imagination. And I no longer have to live in fear of unforgivable sins because I don't actually believe there is any such thing. I don't believe there is a Hell, at least not like the one created by Christians, and I don't believe that I need to worry about it.
This is a personal, but secret, blog archiving my deconversion from a Christian to a non-believer.