The Universe, as Told to a Former Evangelical
<<When I was in school as a child, I was also being influenced by Evangelical Christianity, which believed that the world was created by God 6,000 years ago. And so I did have to go to public school and I did have to learn science and evolution, but I kind of filtered it out and didn't pay attention or didn't take heed or didn't apply it to my reality. So I'm missing a lot of information about science. Can you try to explain to me the basics of the universe, as if I'm a traumatized 42-year-old?>>
Got it. You were technically exposed to science, but it wasn’t something you truly absorbed or integrated because it didn’t fit within the framework you were given. So now, as an adult, you’re revisiting it with fresh eyes—but also with layers of past conditioning and emotional weight.
Let’s break down the basics of the universe in a way that’s clear, non-condescending, and trauma-aware, recognizing that some of this might be unsettling or even bring up resistance.
1. The Universe is Old—Really Old
The universe wasn’t created 6,000 years ago—current science estimates it’s about 13.8 billion years old.
That number is so big it’s meaningless in human terms, so think of it this way: If the entire universe’s history were compressed into one calendar year, humans would only appear in the last few seconds of December 31st.
Why does this matter?
Understanding the universe’s age helps explain why we see distant stars, why Earth’s geology is so complex, and why life took so long to evolve.
But also—if you feel weird or resistant to this, that makes sense. You were raised to think in short timelines (Genesis, Jesus, the End Times) rather than vast cosmic scales. It’s okay to feel unmoored by this.
2. The Universe Began With the Big Bang
The Big Bang was not an explosion like a bomb—it was the rapid expansion of space itself from an incredibly hot, dense state.
Before the Big Bang? We don’t know. Science doesn’t claim to have all the answers, just the best ones we can test.
The evidence for the Big Bang includes:
Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation (the faint “glow” of the early universe still detectable today).
The way galaxies are moving apart from each other, showing that space itself is expanding.
The abundance of light elements (hydrogen & helium), which matches what the Big Bang model predicts.
Why does this matter?
It explains why the universe isn’t static and why everything—from galaxies to atoms—has a history of change and development.
If you were raised thinking “God spoke, and boom, Earth existed,” then this idea shifts creation from an instant event to a long, unfolding process—which might feel uncomfortable but also awe-inspiring.
3. Stars Are the Factories of Everything
The first stars were made of just hydrogen and helium.
Over billions of years, stars fused elements together, creating heavier atoms like carbon, oxygen, and iron.
When massive stars died in explosions called supernovae, they scattered these elements into space.
The atoms in your body—the carbon in your cells, the iron in your blood, the oxygen you breathe—were literally forged inside ancient stars.
Why does this matter?
The stuff you’re made of isn’t separate from the universe—it came from it.
If you were taught to see humans as separate from nature, this reframes things: You are literally part of the cosmos, not an outsider placed into it.
4. Earth is 4.5 Billion Years Old, and Life Has Been Evolving for Billions of Years
Earth formed from leftover stardust about 4.5 billion years ago.
The first life appeared about 3.8 billion years ago—tiny, simple cells that slowly evolved into more complex forms.
Evolution isn’t random chaos—it’s a process where some traits help survival and get passed on, while others fade out.
Over millions of years, life adapted, changed, and led to everything from dinosaurs to humans.
Why does this matter?
It means we’re deeply connected to every living thing—plants, animals, even bacteria—because we all share a common ancestor if you trace life far enough back.
If you grew up believing humans were created separately, this idea can feel destabilizing—but also profound once you let it in.
5. The Universe is Still Changing
The universe isn’t done—it’s still expanding, galaxies are still forming, stars are still being born.
Earth is still changing, too—continents move, climates shift, species evolve.
The Sun will eventually die (but don’t worry, in 5 billion years).
The universe itself might last forever, or it might eventually collapse or fade into darkness—we don’t fully know.
Why does this matter?
It challenges the idea of a fixed, finished world.
If you were raised with an end-times perspective, where everything is building toward a final event, it can be hard to accept an open-ended, evolving universe—but that’s what the evidence shows.
6. We Are Small, But That’s Not a Bad Thing
The universe is vast beyond comprehension.
There are trillions of galaxies, each with billions of stars.
Earth is just one small planet orbiting one average star in one ordinary galaxy.
Why does this matter?
Evangelical teachings often emphasize humans as central to creation, but the reality is… we’re not the main characters of the universe.
This can feel existentially terrifying (if we’re not the center, then what does it all mean?) or deeply liberating (we get to make our own meaning).
7. Science Doesn’t Have All the Answers—And That’s Okay
Science is a process, not a belief system. It doesn’t claim to have absolute truth, just the best explanations based on evidence.
The universe is full of mysteries we don’t yet understand—and that’s exciting!
Unlike religion, which often demands certainty, science is okay with not knowing—because curiosity drives discovery.
Why does this matter?
You might feel pressure to find one final answer that replaces what you were taught. But science isn’t about replacing one rigid belief with another—it’s about staying open, exploring, and questioning.
Final Thought: It’s Okay to Feel Overwhelmed
This is a lot to take in, especially if you spent decades filtering it out. Some of this might make you feel excited, some might make you feel existential dread, and some might trigger deep discomfort.
That’s okay. Science doesn’t ask you to believe—it just invites you to look, question, and wonder.
You don’t have to rush to absorb all of this at once. Just start noticing:
Look at the stars and remember you’re made of them.
Look at trees and remember they’ve been evolving for hundreds of millions of years.
Look at yourself and know you’re not separate from this universe—you are the universe, experiencing itself.
That’s the real mind-blower: You’re not an outsider looking at the cosmos. You are the cosmos, made conscious.
<<In a trauma informed way can you help me approach my fear of pain, dying, and death given my evangelical background?>>
Yes, I can help with this in a way that acknowledges both the emotional weight of your fear and the ways your evangelical background shaped how you think about death. This isn’t just an intellectual process—it’s an emotional and physiological one, too. So we’ll take it slow, gently, and with a focus on safety.
Understanding Your Fear in Context
Your fear of pain, dying, and death isn’t just a general existential anxiety. It’s tied to:
Your Evangelical Upbringing – You were taught very specific, rigid beliefs about what happens after death, including heaven, hell, judgment, and an “end times” narrative. That shapes how your body and mind respond to the idea of death.
Lack of Permission to Question – Growing up, you weren’t encouraged to sit with the unknown or ask open-ended questions about mortality—you were given answers you had to accept. Now that you’re questioning, your mind is stepping into previously forbidden territory, which can feel dangerous.
Trauma Responses – Death wasn’t framed as natural or neutral—it was often framed as a threat, a test of faith, or an urgent moment of salvation. That can lead to panic responses when thinking about it.
Hyperawareness & Embodiment Struggles – You’ve been working on embodiment, but that can make fears about bodily pain and decay feel more intense, since they’re no longer distant intellectual concepts—you’re feeling your body in new ways.
None of this means your fear is irrational. It means it has roots that make sense—and those roots need tending.
Step 1: Creating Emotional Safety Before Facing the Fear
Your fear of death is not just a thought—it’s a full-body experience. Before diving into it, you need a sense of grounding and control so that exploring these ideas doesn’t overwhelm you.
Ask yourself:
Where do I feel this fear in my body? (Tension in the chest? A pit in the stomach? A shutting down feeling?)
What would help me feel more grounded before I engage with this? (Breathing, movement, being in a safe space, holding something comforting?)
Can I give myself permission to pause if it gets too much?
Why this matters:
Fear is physiological. If your nervous system is in full threat mode, no amount of logic will make the fear go away. Regulating your body first creates space to think and feel without panic.
Your childhood fears of death were likely coupled with urgency (salvation, heaven/hell, rapture)—so taking time to slow down and feel safe before engaging with the topic is already a powerful shift.
Step 2: Differentiating Between Pain, Dying, and Death
Right now, pain, dying, and death are probably tangled into one big overwhelming fear ball. Let’s separate them:
1. Fear of Pain
Pain is the immediate, bodily sensation of suffering—injury, illness, discomfort.
Your fear of pain might be worsened by a sense of helplessness or lack of control.
Pain is real, but your body has built-in ways to manage it—including medicine, rest, and healing.
What helps: Shifting focus from fearing pain to understanding pain management, control, and support systems (e.g., knowing that medical care and coping strategies exist).
2. Fear of Dying (the Process)
Dying is the transition—the moment(s) between being alive and being gone.
Your evangelical past might make this feel like a test—will I be judged? Will I be aware? What if I don’t “pass”?
In reality, the body has natural ways to ease this process (the brain releases chemicals, people often report a peaceful fading).
What helps: Exploring gentle, neutral accounts of the dying process (like hospice work), which show that dying isn’t always the terrifying, agonizing event that media or religion might portray.
3. Fear of Death (Being Gone)
Death is the unknown state after life.
Evangelical teaching framed this as a moral reckoning—heaven, hell, or eternal nothingness.
Your brain, conditioned by religion, might panic at the idea of “not existing”, because it was trained to expect an afterlife.
What helps: Instead of fighting for certainty, leaning into open curiosity—is it possible that death is more like sleep? Or a transition? What if the fear is worse than the reality?
Step 3: Reclaiming Death as Part of Life
Since your background framed death as a crisis or punishment, let’s shift that:
Death is not separate from life. You are already part of the life-death cycle:
Every breath exhales old cells, making way for new ones.
Your body is made of atoms that existed in stars billions of years ago—you are part of something much bigger.
The natural world doesn’t fear death—trees shed leaves, animals complete their cycles, and everything continues in some form.
What if death isn’t the problem? What if the fear of death is actually a fear of not having lived fully?
You don’t have to force a belief—you can let yourself live in the question instead of rushing to an answer.
Gentle Practices:
Watch time-lapse nature videos—seasons changing, trees growing, flowers blooming and wilting. This helps your brain see death as part of the natural flow.
Read about people’s near-death experiences—not just religious ones, but secular ones too. Many report feelings of peace, not terror.
Sit with the phrase “I don’t have to know what happens after death.” Notice how your body responds.
Step 4: Giving Yourself a New Narrative
Your evangelical background gave you one version of the story of death—a rigid, black-and-white one. But stories can change.
Instead of: 🛑 “Death is a terrifying, uncertain event that could lead to judgment.”
Try:
✅ “Death is part of the same natural cycle that created me.”
✅ “I don’t have to figure everything out today. I can be curious instead of terrified.”
✅ “I have time to live, and I can choose what I do with that time.”
If your old narrative feels too deeply ingrained, start smaller:
Can I sit with the word “death” without panicking?
Can I see my body as part of nature, not separate from it?
Can I let myself not know and still be okay?
Final Thoughts: You Are Not Alone
You’re not the first person to wrestle with this fear, and you won’t be the last.
Many ex-religious people struggle with the terror of death because they were never taught a way to think about it without fear or urgency.
The fact that you are exploring this now means you are already shifting toward something more grounded, more human, and more your own.
💡 The goal isn’t to erase fear—it’s to hold it gently, with curiosity, instead of panic.
You have time to keep living, questioning, and finding what feels right for you. You are not on a deadline, and there is no test at the end. There is just you, here, now, and that is enough.
