(Via Jim H.)
I had the good fortune to be raised by nominally Catholic parents who “believe in belief,” as Daniel Dennett puts it. I can only imagine that they took their faith more seriously in the past. When it came to religion, they once explained that they hadn’t had me baptized as an infant so that I could first attend Sunday school and fully appreciate the meaning of the ceremony.
Then they ‘forgot’ to send me to Sunday school.
By the time I was old enough to question the concept of God (as clumsily explained by my parents), we were only attending church on Easters and Christmases. They had no convincing answers for my questions.
By age four, I was conducting prayer experiments: I placed rocks on my window sill (where God could see them better, naturally) and prayed for Him to change their shapes overnight. Those rocks were always the same shape the next morning.
I attended public school and continued to fling the occasional bartering prayer skyward before tests. ‘If I get a good grade on this test, God, I’ll be really good next week!’ My test results only confirmed that my grades were more strongly affected by preparation than divine intervention.
I made no secret of my atheism in high school. Frankly, I was a bit of an asshole about religion when it came up in conversation. It was at school that I was pointed toward George Smith’s The Case Against God by a friendly classmate. My parents still didn’t know anything about my lack of belief.
I remember getting The Case Against God at a local bookstore. I felt mildly embarrassed at the time. It felt as if I was trying to buy porn. The grandmotherly cashier looked visibly pained when she saw the title of the book she was selling to a young teen. She anxiously struck up a forced conversion about some fiction title (Clan of the Cave Bear, I think) and I think we were both blushing nervously by the time I took my purchase and left the store.
As it turned out, the book wasn’t that impressive. Too much focus on Ayn Rand and the pesky assertion that universal negatives can be logically proven. But the book helped me in one regard: It gave me the chance to come out to the parents. I left the book sitting in plain sight when I finished it. (I never made an attempt to hide books from my parents) Later, my mother whispered to me in a half conspiratorial, half disapproving tone that she had ‘found that book.’ The first thought through my teenaged brain was, ‘Oh crap! My porn?’ Luckily, I didn’t voice that question. She went on to ask about ‘that atheism book’ and sought assurance that I ‘still believed.’ And there it was, the perfect opportunity to tell her my thoughts on religion. All thanks to one unimpressive atheist tract. I saw the opening and I took it.
Naturally, my parents assumed that my atheism was a ‘phase’ for several years. They were vaguely disapproving, but never ramped up the church attendance for my sake. These days we don’t often talk about religion, but they are now reluctantly accepting of my position. Along with one of my cousins, I forgo prayers at family holiday get-togethers. I’ve never had any questions about this practice from the extended family, but I would not hesitate to explain if asked.
Compared to many, I’ve had a smooth coming out – especially considering the reputation of the Midwestern locale. I was always able to laugh off the knee-jerk proselytizing of uber-religious students in my school (there were few), I never had to deal with violence from peers or censure from parents, and the school had several like-minded students I could talk to. Even today as a vegetarian atheist living in Indiana, I am surrounded by many religiously-skeptical peers in my academic workplace.
I only wish others could make the transition as easily and organically as I did. Reading other coming out accounts makes clear the potential for backlash in these situations. It was not until after the fact that I realized how fortunate I was.
(Via James Dean)
There’s nothing like a little religiousity to get the blood flowing, as many former religionists know. I came from the Xian tradition coupled with an ample seasoning of humanism. (My bet is that my mom is as close as one can come to being a free thinker as possible but still be vaguely literalist in the cross bit.) BUT DON’T BE CONFUSED: I am a proud agnostic-atheist because agnosticism is only logical and atheism is the general default that follows most readily from that.
I once thought Jesus would have nothing to do with me, based on my popularity. I once thought he was really interested in my letting go of a little pent up tension -one way or the next, to people’s help and not their hurt. I once thought God should alternately be spelled in lower case and upper case letters and Jesse should be substituted for Jesus every here and there -so we could see the meanings of the passages beyond language. I once thought I might one day see a limb regrown. And now … enough is enough.
If people want to be foolish, they should do it while living their own lives -not a prescribed version -but this, only if they’re intelligent enough. And yes, that’s inflammatory. And yes, that’s okay. And no, you can’t count on a government to do it for you. And yes, we should all stop them from trying.
The facts are these, in short: Grew up all my life in a Christian home with over zealous father; comes from some real psychological absurdity he couldn’t have helped -and maybe, no one else could: chemical &/ trauma-induced imbalance in grandmother. My mother grew up with a father that turned alcoholic, abusively, and womanizingly so, too, and she was left to raise her three brothers in this same home most of her younger years -she somehow sustained some wonderful humanism through it all. My grandfather, on my dad’s side, certainly had his problems, but he was always a skeptic, and educator, even if a believer underneath it all -my dad went more fundamentalist on his own or with some help from the older women in his life -his mom and his grandmother who lived with them. (They, his mom & his grandmom, were also into spiritualism.)
I swooned under the influence of paranormal research, meditative apathy, prayers to a transcendent I-never-could tell-quite-what and three counts of full blown depression (the last two for which I took meds): after several Psychology courses, two Dale Carnegie books, Penn & Teller -especially, Season 3 (which I got from my grandparents -dad’s side- three christmases ago), Michael Shermer in his debate on God/Atheism (militant agnosticism!), and Guy P. Harrison’s (Prometheus publishes it) 50 reasons people give for believing in a god, and Bernard M. Patten’s book Truth, Knowledge, Or Just Plain Bull: How To Tell The Difference -these sources really helped, as did a little reflection and appreciation of the glibly persuasive account of god given by Douglas Adams on evolution/god -it’s maybe 5 minutes long, yet better than several books on the subject.
Somehow, I clawed my way to skepticism, secular humanism, and philosophical pursuits. It didn’t hurt that a personality test placed me in a group of real heady thinkers when I was 20. The Tao Te Ching, read largely in a philosophical context several times over a dozen years, really helped me break free of much of the indoctrination before I learned logic, took a couple introductory literature courses, and began to read the Skeptical Inquirer (their FB stuff is quite good, too).
I guess, I made my own extended therapy through literature, philosophy, logic, life’s disappointments and wonderments, and yes, even the Four Horsemen -though I want to see what is better put and more vigorous and erudite than anything they have to say about atheism.
Screw communism and screw capitalism -and no, I’m not so sure about any -ism, -ian, -ish, or substitute for thinking -or feeling, for that matter. But let them play their part if they accept that they don’t want to stand between those who embrace life and those who won’t get in it’s way, either.
Power to the people.
I’m 31 and still have some libido religion couldn’t snatch away from me. Praise whatever you call-it! -I’m celebrating it/me.
(Via Pete Rosenberg)
Well, over the last couple of weeks I’ve been making a serious effort to ‘come out’ as an atheist. Granted, my status on myspace and whatnot has said ‘atheist’ for ‘religion’ for years now (prior to that I was agnostic, so there was absolutely no response to that change.) But back to the present (or at least recent past) when I told my mother (A Universalist Unitarian) she was unsurprised and mentioned that many of the people at her congregation (I hesitate to call it a ‘church’, because of the negative connotation that bears) were also atheist. Again, no drama, no negativity. When I mentioned it to my father, (a retired Navy Captain) I did so by saying “I think my own atheism stems from my childhood appreciation of nature, all the outings, and the David Attenborough documentaries that I loved so much.” His response was “I like the documentaries too. I wouldn’t say I loved them, but I definitely enjoyed them.” I should perhaps, mention that my father, although a successful navy officer of 30 years, was known to be somewhat of a loose cannon, even going so far as to tell the captain of his ship (when he was XO) that the ship was ‘godless’, and when I asked him whether he was indeed Atheist, (because of his intense dislike of Christianity) he said no, he’s more of an Agnostic. Either way, he has the same dim view of organized religion as do I, and he seemed quite cheerful for the rest of that conversation (which I take to mean that he approves.) The only negative responses I’ve gotten (aside from some random fundamentalist on Tagged who got pissed when I responded to her ‘Jesus saves’ tags with a quote by Thomas Jefferson on how Christianity was the most perverted system.) were from my GF and her daughter. My GF (a Wiccan) was just annoyed because I’ve been very noisy about the whole affair, and she does, after all believe in a supreme being, the afterlife and magic, and I embrace the concept of ultimate mortality and reject the supernatural, and was kinda going on about that. The daughter was just annoyed because I’ve been noisy and I’m dating her mom. Which brings me to the ultimate reason that I’ve gotten very little in the way of response: I don’t have christian friends. (except maybe my sister) Most of my friends are Wiccan, and really don’t care that I don’t share their faith, as long as I don’t try to preach lack of faith to them. Of the rest of my friends and family, well, my best friend is Buddhist, and again, doesn’t really care, my youngest sister is agnostic, and the older of my sisters, (still younger than me) while nominally still christian, (she became so while dating a fundamentalist christian in high school) hasn’t been to church in years, and with the lack of a support structure (and in the light of her own substantial intelligence, and the sceptical view of the rest of us), her faith has withered. She never, however, was dogmatic (My father would’ve responded pretty harshly to that) and was in a much better position to understand what an atheist or agnostic REALLY is.
Anyways, that’s my story. I guess I kinda drifted away from it. Anyways, now I’m gonna go order some shirts and hats and wear them around town (including to the local walmart) and see what happens. It’ll be an adventure, ’cause I live in Pahrump, NV (a particularly odious little hick-town).
(Via Justin Bonaparte)
I grew up in suburban Detroit in a moderately religious household. We attended church most Sundays. I went to Catholic school from K-9. In all this time, I cannot remember ever believing a shred of dogma. I can remember being very young, in mass, looking around at the stained glass, the crucifix, the candles, and thinking this cannot be right. Of course I didn’t recognize myself as an atheist at that time. In fact, I don’t think that I really believed that others REALLY believed. I think I thought it was a bit of a grown-up joke, just a bunch of rituals and practices that mainly served to bring people together for friendship, gossip and community. The biblical passages and stories couldn’t possibly be truly believed by adults. It was only later in life that I truly understood the powerful hold that religion has over the vast majority of people. This revelation did not give me joy.
(Via Stephen F. Uhl, Ph.D.)
On Mothers Day, 1967, my eight siblings and I circled the huge table at Mom’s place. No one there knew my hypocrisy when I, the family priest, blessed that heavy table as requested. No one yet knew my secret.
Mom had given me a very early priestly vocation. My oldest brother would run the family farm, and I would be the family priest. Period.
Twelve years of seminary and almost nine years of priesthood went swimmingly–until one fateful morning in meditation I saw how St. Thomas Aquinas’ “causality proof” failed. He concluded: ‘Since an infinite regression of secondary causes is impossible, there must be an uncaused First Cause, God.’
Seeing how gratuitous his assumption was, my faith began to waver.
My agnosticism then grew during two challenging years. Debating if I should leave the priesthood, I feared I might be kidding myself when admitting I was agnostic; childhood imprintings die very hard! However, my totally desperate but conditional prayer when facing an unavoidable high-speed head-on collision convinced me I didn’t really believe. While recuperating from that October accident, I headed for a responsible June exit.
I had fully intended to break the news at our Mothers Day gathering, but I just could not bring myself to shatter that day’s joy. Next day, in the privacy of Mom’s kitchen, I forced myself to tell her. What a shock! But she painfully accepted what she could not change. Later that week when I was leaving, she was carrying bed clothes from her storage to my car; laughing through her tears, she said “I thought I was finished setting my kids up in housekeeping.”
That same week I told my siblings. Their reactions ranged from completely sympathetic understanding to shocked disbelief. My youngest brother asked, “How can you be a good, moral man if you don’t believe in God or the Church?” My answer was, and is, simple: ‘I follow my highest power, my reason, my conscience; this leads to the Golden Rule and keeps me true to my self and those around me.’
During two years teaching public school mathematics, I married a fellow teacher. Now I could afford to get the doctorate in psychology.
My psychology practice thrived; I enjoyed helping clients shuck guilt based on outdated beliefs and childhood superstitions. I enjoyed teaching the practical morality of a modified Golden Rule that the way to be happy is to help make others so without destroying oneself. Living this Golden Rule made me a better psychologist, contributed to a great marriage of almost 40 years, and produced outstanding neighbor relationships.
Discovery of cancer scared me; I promptly started an intimate family letter. Learning my cancer was not aggressive, I expanded that letter into the book, Out of God’s Closet: This Priest Psychologist Chooses Friendly Atheism. The book shares my exciting journey and shows readers how this natural life becomes a reasoned, responsible thrill outside of God’s musty closet.
(Via Jason)
I don’t remember the exact moment I became an atheist (I think it was more of a slow draining away, but I remember why.
I was raised Catholic, spend a couple of years as an agnostic, and then became a born-again christian my second or third year of high school. I was desperately wanting to belong to something, and they found me first. *laughs*
Mostly as a result of attending this particular christian missionary alliance church, the idea of a christian god just stopped making sense to me. My mind could no longer accept the idea of an all-powerful god who allowed the type of suffering I saw in the world; around this time, I think I saw a story of a five-year-old boy who was raped and murdered, as that is the specific example I quoted the most relating to my new found non-acceptance.
I spent a short while believing in the idea of a “watchmaker god”, then – finally – logic took over and I just decided not to spend time thinking about something that was a non-topic, as it could never be proved or disproved. I had recently started working at a Children’s Science Center, and fell in love with the idea of science and the natural world. I realized real science was so much more amazing than anything any human could dream up.
On a side note, for some reason I held on to other supernatural beliefs for a wee bit after becoming an atheist; after working at the science center for a while, all of the fell away as well. I am now a full-fledged, proud skeptic.