He skips church to sleep.
He skips church to nurse a hangover.
He skips church to go away for a weekend.
He skips church for pretty much any reason imaginable.
But when it comes to doing a scheduled activity with his children during "church" time, all the sudden it's protected time. They can't do the activity because "they gotta go to church."
And some wonder how I question the depth of his faith.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Credit where credit is due
I've read a lot of stuff lately where someone does something good for someone else, and the common response is "That is an answer to prayer" or "isn't God great" or "that just proves God is real."
No, it doesn't. Listen, I am a good person and I do nice things for people. Just last weekend my babysitter was moving, and though I couldn't help with the move, when I stopped by I couldn't help but notice she had 4 children underfoot and in the way while they were trying to load a moving van. So I did what I COULD do, and that was round up the kids and bring them to my house to play with my own 3 kids. She later thanked me and told me what a huge help it was.
God didn't do that nice thing. I did. Lots of people give time, money, and effort out of the kindness of their hearts while "God" doesn't have to do a damn thing.
Give people some credit.
No, it doesn't. Listen, I am a good person and I do nice things for people. Just last weekend my babysitter was moving, and though I couldn't help with the move, when I stopped by I couldn't help but notice she had 4 children underfoot and in the way while they were trying to load a moving van. So I did what I COULD do, and that was round up the kids and bring them to my house to play with my own 3 kids. She later thanked me and told me what a huge help it was.
God didn't do that nice thing. I did. Lots of people give time, money, and effort out of the kindness of their hearts while "God" doesn't have to do a damn thing.
Give people some credit.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Less than flaming dog poo
So, hell. The big “You’re grounded!” from God. The burning lake of fire, the gnashing of teeth, the constant heat, pain and agony, if literal translations of the Bible are to be believed, should be enough to make people stay on the straight and narrow.
But, you see, it isn’t. People sin all the time. They turn away from God all the time. I’m sure a big part of it is that such a thing is so far beyond comprehension as to be a motivator, but the other part is, I think if people really look deep inside themselves, they know this: it’s just not fair.
One of the things I have loved about John Loftus’s book is he does compare God’s relationship to us to that between we adults and our children. If we would do thus and so for our children, and never do thus as so against our children, how could a loving God/father figure do or not do these things?
And isn’t hell a steep price to pay for the supposed offenses? When someone does the worst crimes imaginable here on earth, what happens? They are sent to prison. They might get the death penalty, depending on where they are. But never, ever are they tortured endlessly under the rule of law.
And yet, God is proposing this very thing to people who commit the horrible act of not believing in a being who has, in the view of many many people, millions if not billions, made it nigh unto impossible to believe in him. He certainly isn’t going around giving irrefutable, concrete proof, as he well could.
See, it’s not your sin that will send you to hell necessarily, according to the good book. That will be absolved “bah tha blood of JEEZUS!” if you’re a believer. The problem is if you don’t believe in Jesus. So what if you were raised in a wholly different religion, maybe in a lot of ways similar to Christianity, with rules like not putting flaming dog poo on your neighbor’s porch or drinking at your job at the local day care center, and you follow those rules? What if your greatest offense your while life was was going 65 mph in a 55 mph zone, or running over a stray cat? Do you really deserve hell for that?
When I was believer, I toed the party line, which was, “He’s God and he can do whatever he wants.” So hell just seemed like another thing on the list of “God’s God and I’m not, so who am I to judge.” But I have thought more about that, and you know what? If God exists, and created us, he also created our brains with the logic we have and use all the time. And if he’s all knowing, he’d know we’d eventually figure out these holes in “his story.” And that’s just yet another reason I can’t believe anymore.
But, you see, it isn’t. People sin all the time. They turn away from God all the time. I’m sure a big part of it is that such a thing is so far beyond comprehension as to be a motivator, but the other part is, I think if people really look deep inside themselves, they know this: it’s just not fair.
One of the things I have loved about John Loftus’s book is he does compare God’s relationship to us to that between we adults and our children. If we would do thus and so for our children, and never do thus as so against our children, how could a loving God/father figure do or not do these things?
And isn’t hell a steep price to pay for the supposed offenses? When someone does the worst crimes imaginable here on earth, what happens? They are sent to prison. They might get the death penalty, depending on where they are. But never, ever are they tortured endlessly under the rule of law.
And yet, God is proposing this very thing to people who commit the horrible act of not believing in a being who has, in the view of many many people, millions if not billions, made it nigh unto impossible to believe in him. He certainly isn’t going around giving irrefutable, concrete proof, as he well could.
See, it’s not your sin that will send you to hell necessarily, according to the good book. That will be absolved “bah tha blood of JEEZUS!” if you’re a believer. The problem is if you don’t believe in Jesus. So what if you were raised in a wholly different religion, maybe in a lot of ways similar to Christianity, with rules like not putting flaming dog poo on your neighbor’s porch or drinking at your job at the local day care center, and you follow those rules? What if your greatest offense your while life was was going 65 mph in a 55 mph zone, or running over a stray cat? Do you really deserve hell for that?
When I was believer, I toed the party line, which was, “He’s God and he can do whatever he wants.” So hell just seemed like another thing on the list of “God’s God and I’m not, so who am I to judge.” But I have thought more about that, and you know what? If God exists, and created us, he also created our brains with the logic we have and use all the time. And if he’s all knowing, he’d know we’d eventually figure out these holes in “his story.” And that’s just yet another reason I can’t believe anymore.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Stickin' Around
I just happened to take a gander at the Debunking Christianity blog today, and saw John's post about Christian/Atheist (we deserve a capital letter too!) debates. In the post he said religion would always be around. Someone commented that he was saying Christianity/religion can't be debunked. Talk about misunderstanding!
Just because a school of thought, or set of beliefs, manages to stick around with some folks does not mean that it's ultimately true. Just because someone acknowledges that religion isn't going away doesn't mean he can't give some pretty damn good evidence why religion in general, and Christianity in particular, is most likely not true.
It's hard for me as a Christian turned Agnostic that others can't see what to me are now glaring facts...but then, there was a time I couldn't see them either. As I've mentioned before, there is sorrow on both sides of this.
Just because a school of thought, or set of beliefs, manages to stick around with some folks does not mean that it's ultimately true. Just because someone acknowledges that religion isn't going away doesn't mean he can't give some pretty damn good evidence why religion in general, and Christianity in particular, is most likely not true.
It's hard for me as a Christian turned Agnostic that others can't see what to me are now glaring facts...but then, there was a time I couldn't see them either. As I've mentioned before, there is sorrow on both sides of this.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Why I Became an Atheist
Four months after I began it, I FINALLY finished this book! Thank you, John Loftus, for such an excellent book. Well written, well argued, and respectful to people of all beliefs. It was an incredible comfort to read a book like this written by someone who's been on both sides of religion.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
But I wish...
I heard Julia Sweeney say the times in her life she grew the most were when she stopped believing what she wished were true, and just believed in what she knew was true.
A wise statement, applicable to faith in God and a lot of other things in life.
A wise statement, applicable to faith in God and a lot of other things in life.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Thoughts on evil
So, I've finally gotten to the chapters in the John Loftus book about the problem of evil, and they are really well argued and well written.
Why is there evil? I was taught as a Christian that people were given free choice, so that they might love God freely, and thus not be, basically, robots or slaves. But there are at least a couple of problems with this, one being that our free choice can cause great harm which, to many rational people, might outweigh God's desire for people to love him.
God is supposed to be the be-all, end all. He is complete in and of himself, wholly knowledgeable, wholly powerful, and wholly good. How, then, could something that is completely absent any evil within himself, create something that could do evil? That is probably another question for another time, so I'll get to the next part, which Mr. Loftus discusses.
God is supposed to be our heavenly father, right? When you're a parent, you have to keep careful watch over your children. You start out by watching them every second, only allowing them to see and touch and do things that won't hurt them. You give them big, soft toys so that they won't hurt themselves or others. The example in the book goes something like this: if you gave a sharp knife to a 2 year old, would you not be culpable for how that child hurts himself or others? You knew that he would not be able to handle the responsibility of such a tool, and yet you gave it to him anyway.
God (to those who think he exists) is all knowing. He KNEW that if he gave that man over there a choice, he'd rape a little girl. He KNEW that if he gave that woman over there a choice, she'd abuse the elderly people in her care. He KNEW that if he gave those guys a choice, they'd kill thousands of people with a couple of airplanes. He knew these things, and yet, he let them make those choices anyway.
How is God's desire for our freely given love (DESIRE, not need, remember, because he is complete unto himself, and doesn't NEED anything) more important than all the pain and suffering that goes on every second in this world? Not only that, but in heaven, there is to be no more pain and suffering. The only way to avoid that, apparently, is to take away free will. He'd have to take away moral choices. If he can do that in heaven, why not on earth? Is this all just a big cruel game to him?
I have met some very selfish people in my life. But I don't think I've ever met anyone quite THAT selfish, and if I did, I'd wash my hands of them.
If he exists, that's not who I want to align myself with.
More later :)
Why is there evil? I was taught as a Christian that people were given free choice, so that they might love God freely, and thus not be, basically, robots or slaves. But there are at least a couple of problems with this, one being that our free choice can cause great harm which, to many rational people, might outweigh God's desire for people to love him.
God is supposed to be the be-all, end all. He is complete in and of himself, wholly knowledgeable, wholly powerful, and wholly good. How, then, could something that is completely absent any evil within himself, create something that could do evil? That is probably another question for another time, so I'll get to the next part, which Mr. Loftus discusses.
God is supposed to be our heavenly father, right? When you're a parent, you have to keep careful watch over your children. You start out by watching them every second, only allowing them to see and touch and do things that won't hurt them. You give them big, soft toys so that they won't hurt themselves or others. The example in the book goes something like this: if you gave a sharp knife to a 2 year old, would you not be culpable for how that child hurts himself or others? You knew that he would not be able to handle the responsibility of such a tool, and yet you gave it to him anyway.
God (to those who think he exists) is all knowing. He KNEW that if he gave that man over there a choice, he'd rape a little girl. He KNEW that if he gave that woman over there a choice, she'd abuse the elderly people in her care. He KNEW that if he gave those guys a choice, they'd kill thousands of people with a couple of airplanes. He knew these things, and yet, he let them make those choices anyway.
How is God's desire for our freely given love (DESIRE, not need, remember, because he is complete unto himself, and doesn't NEED anything) more important than all the pain and suffering that goes on every second in this world? Not only that, but in heaven, there is to be no more pain and suffering. The only way to avoid that, apparently, is to take away free will. He'd have to take away moral choices. If he can do that in heaven, why not on earth? Is this all just a big cruel game to him?
I have met some very selfish people in my life. But I don't think I've ever met anyone quite THAT selfish, and if I did, I'd wash my hands of them.
If he exists, that's not who I want to align myself with.
More later :)
Sunday, March 29, 2009
The Problem of Prayer: Where My Search Began
I just got done reading the chapter on prayer in the "Why I Became an Atheist" book. It was one of the more interesting chapters to me because it really was where my search began. It was such a problem to me that I even brought it up to a therapist I saw years ago. I wanted to know why prayer seemed such an arbitrary thing - why is it some prayers got answered and some prayers didn't (or, in the minds of many Christians, why does God say "no" to some things). Her answer, predictibly, had to do with the level of faith of the intercessors. At the time I bought it because I so desperately wanted to keep believing, and it helped maintain my illusions.
But my doubts didn't stop. The problem of prayer and the problem of evil are two things that I find absolutely insurmountable in proving the veracity of Christianity, but for the sake of space, I'm just going to deal with the prayer thing here.
I have a 6 year old son, the youngest of 3 boys, who has never been quite well physically. Last year he was hospitalized a number of times; the first was for a video EEG to diagnose his epilepsy, and the others were for bowel cleanouts for his chronic constipation. He's been hospitalized several times since birth; we have such an extensive collection of hospital bracelets that I don't even keep them anymore. He was born with an enlarged kidney, a suspected exposed spinal cord (luckily it was not), but most importantly, a defect called imperforate anus, meaning the hole in his bottom was closed at birth. He had that fixed so that he could have bowel movements, but he's had problems with chronic constipation ever since.
I distinctly remember one of the faith-testing moments in caring for this particular digestive malady. He hadn't gone in well over a week. He was likely going to be hospitalized soon. I can't remember how old he was - possibly 3 or 4. And as I had done many, many times, I sat on the floor of the bathroom while he sat on the toilet, trying mightily to empty himself and be rid of the pain it was causing. And I sat there, alternately encouraging him and willing him to just go, and praying. And I thought, if God answered this prayer, would it hurt anyone else? Would it conflict with someone else's prayer? I couldn't see how it would, and I didn't understand why in the world he wouldn't help my little boy with such a simple thing. I prayed and prayed (and cried), and he sat and sat...and of course, nothing happened.
This is such a small and maybe to some, not even noteworthy, account of inaction by a supposedly benevolent and loving God. A mother cried out for her child to just feel comfort for a moment - not even a complete healing, just a temporary reprieve - and he either didn't care, or couldn't help, or simply would not help. And that is not the God I was taught existed.
I could give countless other examples, and I am sure many others could as well. George Carlin does a bit where he compares praying to Joe Pesci with praying to God and seeing what the success rate is (about 50/50 for each). Is that the kind of success rate you'd want from the Supreme Being?
It just isn't enough for me.
But my doubts didn't stop. The problem of prayer and the problem of evil are two things that I find absolutely insurmountable in proving the veracity of Christianity, but for the sake of space, I'm just going to deal with the prayer thing here.
I have a 6 year old son, the youngest of 3 boys, who has never been quite well physically. Last year he was hospitalized a number of times; the first was for a video EEG to diagnose his epilepsy, and the others were for bowel cleanouts for his chronic constipation. He's been hospitalized several times since birth; we have such an extensive collection of hospital bracelets that I don't even keep them anymore. He was born with an enlarged kidney, a suspected exposed spinal cord (luckily it was not), but most importantly, a defect called imperforate anus, meaning the hole in his bottom was closed at birth. He had that fixed so that he could have bowel movements, but he's had problems with chronic constipation ever since.
I distinctly remember one of the faith-testing moments in caring for this particular digestive malady. He hadn't gone in well over a week. He was likely going to be hospitalized soon. I can't remember how old he was - possibly 3 or 4. And as I had done many, many times, I sat on the floor of the bathroom while he sat on the toilet, trying mightily to empty himself and be rid of the pain it was causing. And I sat there, alternately encouraging him and willing him to just go, and praying. And I thought, if God answered this prayer, would it hurt anyone else? Would it conflict with someone else's prayer? I couldn't see how it would, and I didn't understand why in the world he wouldn't help my little boy with such a simple thing. I prayed and prayed (and cried), and he sat and sat...and of course, nothing happened.
This is such a small and maybe to some, not even noteworthy, account of inaction by a supposedly benevolent and loving God. A mother cried out for her child to just feel comfort for a moment - not even a complete healing, just a temporary reprieve - and he either didn't care, or couldn't help, or simply would not help. And that is not the God I was taught existed.
I could give countless other examples, and I am sure many others could as well. George Carlin does a bit where he compares praying to Joe Pesci with praying to God and seeing what the success rate is (about 50/50 for each). Is that the kind of success rate you'd want from the Supreme Being?
It just isn't enough for me.
Monday, March 9, 2009
The Bible vs. Nature
I had a bit of time to read more of John Loftus' book, Why I Became an Atheist, this weekend.
I got to a rather interesting portion about Biblical events and science. He makes some very good points about the basic cause-and-effect stuff we see in the world around us, and about events being reasonable or unreasonable based on what we know of our environment.
Now, there are a lot of WEIRD accounts in the Bible - talking donkeys, pregnant virgins, blind guys seeing, shepherd staffs turning into snakes. And Christians tend to take these all as literally true because they believe the Bible is literally all true. The problem is this: if those same people were to hear of a similar thing happening NOW, they'd demand evidence. If your coworker said a cat told her not to get in her car that day because God spoke through said cat, and warned her of certain trouble, you'd think she was nuts.
I used to be a Christian so I can hear the argument now: "Well, that's just the way God worked then and it's not the way he does now." Well, to my knowledge, since the beginnings of written history and science, nature hasn't changed so much as to think animals will speak to us or inanimate objects will just float around in the sky. And, if most Christians were told that one of these Bible-style things happened, they'd demand some evidence.
So, why is that standard not applied to the Bible? Why is it so utterly believable, when many of the events are uncorroborated anywhere else?
Just thoughts to put out there...
I got to a rather interesting portion about Biblical events and science. He makes some very good points about the basic cause-and-effect stuff we see in the world around us, and about events being reasonable or unreasonable based on what we know of our environment.
Now, there are a lot of WEIRD accounts in the Bible - talking donkeys, pregnant virgins, blind guys seeing, shepherd staffs turning into snakes. And Christians tend to take these all as literally true because they believe the Bible is literally all true. The problem is this: if those same people were to hear of a similar thing happening NOW, they'd demand evidence. If your coworker said a cat told her not to get in her car that day because God spoke through said cat, and warned her of certain trouble, you'd think she was nuts.
I used to be a Christian so I can hear the argument now: "Well, that's just the way God worked then and it's not the way he does now." Well, to my knowledge, since the beginnings of written history and science, nature hasn't changed so much as to think animals will speak to us or inanimate objects will just float around in the sky. And, if most Christians were told that one of these Bible-style things happened, they'd demand some evidence.
So, why is that standard not applied to the Bible? Why is it so utterly believable, when many of the events are uncorroborated anywhere else?
Just thoughts to put out there...
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Sorrow for the Other Side
Something I've been thinking about quite a bit lately, and which has been brought to the forefront of my mind by the comments of two blogging Christian friends, is the idea of being a little sad for people who don't believe like you do.
I will admit right now, I don't really keep in touch with my former church friends. After I'd stopped going, I did received a few phone calls here and there but honestly the talks were uncomfortable to me and so a bit stilted. I didn't have it in me to explain things very well, and so I didn't. I was also going through a divorce at the time, and it was just easier to use that as an excuse as to why I wasn't attending.
I know that there are probably believer friends of mine who are sad that I no longer believe. The reason I know this is that I used to be a believer, and I know the sorrow that accompanies loving someone who you think is in danger of eternal damnation. Even short of that, there is a sadness that nonbelievers don't know the love of God or the fellowship of a community of believers. It is a real, honest sorrow, and it can definitely go beyond (and be devoid of) simply being judgmental.
But, those of us who don't believe can have a bit of a sorrow for those who do believe as well. We have a sorrow that your life can be limited by rules that might not apply to you, and might not do you any good. We have a sorrow that there is a whole world of experience and science and philosophy that your leaders would prefer that you ignore. We have a sorrow that you're spending a lot of time and money and energy on something that isn't real.
I don't mean to say this to be offensive at all; as I have said, I've been on both sides of it. I know the feelings well. So, for those who are believers and feel a bit sad for those who aren't, remember, they might think that about you as well. And nonbelievers - same to you, er, ah, us.
I will admit right now, I don't really keep in touch with my former church friends. After I'd stopped going, I did received a few phone calls here and there but honestly the talks were uncomfortable to me and so a bit stilted. I didn't have it in me to explain things very well, and so I didn't. I was also going through a divorce at the time, and it was just easier to use that as an excuse as to why I wasn't attending.
I know that there are probably believer friends of mine who are sad that I no longer believe. The reason I know this is that I used to be a believer, and I know the sorrow that accompanies loving someone who you think is in danger of eternal damnation. Even short of that, there is a sadness that nonbelievers don't know the love of God or the fellowship of a community of believers. It is a real, honest sorrow, and it can definitely go beyond (and be devoid of) simply being judgmental.
But, those of us who don't believe can have a bit of a sorrow for those who do believe as well. We have a sorrow that your life can be limited by rules that might not apply to you, and might not do you any good. We have a sorrow that there is a whole world of experience and science and philosophy that your leaders would prefer that you ignore. We have a sorrow that you're spending a lot of time and money and energy on something that isn't real.
I don't mean to say this to be offensive at all; as I have said, I've been on both sides of it. I know the feelings well. So, for those who are believers and feel a bit sad for those who aren't, remember, they might think that about you as well. And nonbelievers - same to you, er, ah, us.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Redefining
One of the things that happens when you change your entire belief system is that you have a lot of redefining to do. I was a devout Christian - I believed it all and lived it as best I could. Christianity was not just a place I went to on Sunday mornings, or a box I checked on some demographic survey. It was the framework for how I lived my life.
A major category within that was love. Now, I grew up in a loving family. I had good examples of love all around me, and so I had a idea of what it meant to treat people with love. But ultimately, when conflict arose as to just what love meant -- what "love would do" if you will -- I tried to rely on the Bible, specifically the "love" chapter in 1 Corinthians 13 (love is patient, love is kind, etc.).
Now, while I still think a lot of the description of love there is good and valid, it's not necessarily the be-all end-all of what defines love. I have learned that I have to define it for myself.
Recently I had a major conflict with someone I am very close to; in fact the conflict has not been resolved yet. Although part of me wants to respond in anger (and at times I did) I sort of gave myself a time-out to think about things more. And one of the major things I kept thinking was this: "How do I deal with this in the context of treating this person with love?"
You see, I don't need a god to tell me what love is. I don't need someone who went around smiting people all the time, and telling people how awful they were, as an example of how I should behave to people who I think have treated me unfairly. I think there has to be a better way.
Things like being patient and kind and humble are a good start. But the rest is left to me. I can define love, and what it means for how I treat people around me, in a way that doesn't follow a set of rigid guidelines from a book written by some guys who probably needed yet another way to control their wives.
It's not easy, but I'm trying. And I'm keeping that in the back of my mind as I express my thoughts and feelings to someone who's hurt me deeply - that I love this person, and it means something even without religion.
A major category within that was love. Now, I grew up in a loving family. I had good examples of love all around me, and so I had a idea of what it meant to treat people with love. But ultimately, when conflict arose as to just what love meant -- what "love would do" if you will -- I tried to rely on the Bible, specifically the "love" chapter in 1 Corinthians 13 (love is patient, love is kind, etc.).
Now, while I still think a lot of the description of love there is good and valid, it's not necessarily the be-all end-all of what defines love. I have learned that I have to define it for myself.
Recently I had a major conflict with someone I am very close to; in fact the conflict has not been resolved yet. Although part of me wants to respond in anger (and at times I did) I sort of gave myself a time-out to think about things more. And one of the major things I kept thinking was this: "How do I deal with this in the context of treating this person with love?"
You see, I don't need a god to tell me what love is. I don't need someone who went around smiting people all the time, and telling people how awful they were, as an example of how I should behave to people who I think have treated me unfairly. I think there has to be a better way.
Things like being patient and kind and humble are a good start. But the rest is left to me. I can define love, and what it means for how I treat people around me, in a way that doesn't follow a set of rigid guidelines from a book written by some guys who probably needed yet another way to control their wives.
It's not easy, but I'm trying. And I'm keeping that in the back of my mind as I express my thoughts and feelings to someone who's hurt me deeply - that I love this person, and it means something even without religion.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Happiness matters.
"There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life." -Atheist Bus Campaign
So, here it is, Sunday again. The "just another day" day. I'm not feeling too well, but my man said something about showing my blog to his friend, so I sort of feel the need to say something impressive, or at least not as drivelous as the speeches at the National Society of Pocket Protectors Annual Conference.
As I have mentioned before, I'm not a scholar, so you probably won't find a lot of deep ideas here, just my thoughts and feelings and experiences. Now, I tend to run those very things through my intellectual processor more and more these days, but they still are just that: personal.
This weekend I'm cleaning up my home, getting it ready for a new owner to take possession on Wednesday. Although I have been divorced for awhile, I only moved out last September, and it is still a little emotional. Mostly the emotions are about losing the house I lived in with my kids, but it does give me a chance to think about the failed marriage too (especially with the ex working in the same space as me for hours at a time).
My nearly 13 year marriage had been troubled for a very long time - pretty much since the 2nd year. And one of the biggest reasons it lasted as long as it did was religion. It was morally wrong to get a divorce. Now, I know some might say, "But we know lots of Christians who are divorced!" You have a point. But a, I'm willing to bet it was not a lightly made choice for the devout ones, and b, that was never me.
About 6 months before I made the decision to contact a lawyer and truly get my divorce going, there was a very dark time in my marriage in which I wanted to separate. I was mostly getting guidance from church folk, whose message was "stay at all costs." But there was another voice who couldn't understand (and could hardly believe) why I would do something just because a book told me to, and not cut my losses before things got even worse.
"But you don't understand! This is not just a book; it's my entire philosophy of life!" Meanwhile my mental health was crumbling and I still thought my duty was not to be happy or mentally healthy, but obedient.
I had already begun having doubts about faith in God at that point, and this made me search even more fervently. And what I came away with allowed me to leave a marriage that was very bad.
One thing I obviously worried over was the effect on my children, which I'm sure I haven't even begun to see. But they are incredibly happy and well adjusted, despite their mother's choice to turn her back on a book and the religion with which they have been raised (their dad's still a believer, by the way). I'm very pleased and a little surprised that that the love we share as mother and sons has not changed one bit because of my loss of faith and marriage together.
I'm not saying atheism gives a license for families to break up; I'm saying it gave me freedom to do something which was long overdue. And the consequences have not always been easy, but the freedom to make my own choices for my own reasons has gone a long way toward me being mentally healthy. In my opinion, that makes me a better mother in many ways.
And despite what you'll learn from the Bible, happiness matters. It's a very good thing to finally be able to believe that.
So, here it is, Sunday again. The "just another day" day. I'm not feeling too well, but my man said something about showing my blog to his friend, so I sort of feel the need to say something impressive, or at least not as drivelous as the speeches at the National Society of Pocket Protectors Annual Conference.
As I have mentioned before, I'm not a scholar, so you probably won't find a lot of deep ideas here, just my thoughts and feelings and experiences. Now, I tend to run those very things through my intellectual processor more and more these days, but they still are just that: personal.
This weekend I'm cleaning up my home, getting it ready for a new owner to take possession on Wednesday. Although I have been divorced for awhile, I only moved out last September, and it is still a little emotional. Mostly the emotions are about losing the house I lived in with my kids, but it does give me a chance to think about the failed marriage too (especially with the ex working in the same space as me for hours at a time).
My nearly 13 year marriage had been troubled for a very long time - pretty much since the 2nd year. And one of the biggest reasons it lasted as long as it did was religion. It was morally wrong to get a divorce. Now, I know some might say, "But we know lots of Christians who are divorced!" You have a point. But a, I'm willing to bet it was not a lightly made choice for the devout ones, and b, that was never me.
About 6 months before I made the decision to contact a lawyer and truly get my divorce going, there was a very dark time in my marriage in which I wanted to separate. I was mostly getting guidance from church folk, whose message was "stay at all costs." But there was another voice who couldn't understand (and could hardly believe) why I would do something just because a book told me to, and not cut my losses before things got even worse.
"But you don't understand! This is not just a book; it's my entire philosophy of life!" Meanwhile my mental health was crumbling and I still thought my duty was not to be happy or mentally healthy, but obedient.
I had already begun having doubts about faith in God at that point, and this made me search even more fervently. And what I came away with allowed me to leave a marriage that was very bad.
One thing I obviously worried over was the effect on my children, which I'm sure I haven't even begun to see. But they are incredibly happy and well adjusted, despite their mother's choice to turn her back on a book and the religion with which they have been raised (their dad's still a believer, by the way). I'm very pleased and a little surprised that that the love we share as mother and sons has not changed one bit because of my loss of faith and marriage together.
I'm not saying atheism gives a license for families to break up; I'm saying it gave me freedom to do something which was long overdue. And the consequences have not always been easy, but the freedom to make my own choices for my own reasons has gone a long way toward me being mentally healthy. In my opinion, that makes me a better mother in many ways.
And despite what you'll learn from the Bible, happiness matters. It's a very good thing to finally be able to believe that.
Friday, January 23, 2009
What Does an Atheist Look Like?
So, I was surprised (and very pleased) that THE John Loftus visited my little ol' blog yesterday, and one of the comments he made, in jest of course, was that I became an atheist because I wanted to kill someone and needed to be morally free to do so.
Though to people like him and me, that's a funny joke, to a lot of religious people, it isn't so funny at all. I don't think it's uncommon for Christians seeing someone leave the faith to assume it was because that person just wanted to sin til the cows came home, or til Dick Clark REALLY retired. In fact, I think I recall that judgment being made of Mr. Loftus, which is crazy if they'd read his book or his blog. The man has done a LOT of reading, researching and thinking. And if you think a former pastor would up and leave his faith (and profession) for something so simple as being able to sin freely, obviously you've never heard of televangelists.
As a former devout Christian, I know very well what is thought of nonbelievers. I don't think I ever thought they were evil, per se, but I did tend to pity them and felt bad they were going to hell. However, I did think that being an atheist gave them moral license to do whatever the hell they wanted, whether it something as bad as murder or as benign as saying a curse word.
And then I met one. I didn't just meet him - I became dear friends with him and ultimately became his partner. Side note: he didn't convert me to atheism - I was already seeking when I met him.
Moving on...this man had never been close to anyone as religious as me, and I'd never known anyone as atheist as him (is that a thing? degrees of atheism? Well I say it, thus it be). And you know what? He never judged me. He never said, "You're stupid for thinking that." He patiently answered questions I had, allowed me to engage him in long conversations about religion and the lack thereof, and even admitted that he did envy parts of those who had a faith.
But the thing that struck me most were the qualities in him I didn't think were possible in an atheist. For one, he was happy. And he hadn't always been happy; he actually went through some very dark times - and came through it a better man, WITHOUT religion. I didn't know that sort of change was possible without God. For another, he was hopeful. He doesn't need an idea of afterlife to be hopeful in this one. And lastly, he's a decent, moral person. He wants to be fair and do right by people, and he's what I think most would consider a good, moral man.
What I have found about myself since losing my faith is that I am basically still the same person I was. I still love my kids just as much, I still do nice things for other people, I still try to be as fair and good as I possibly can. I'm a fairly selfless person, as people go (I think that's the mom in me!)But the difference now is I don't do it because I will be punished OR rewarded if I do - I do it because I want to. Because it fulfills me and makes me and others happy. And, I don't beat myself up because I say "fuck" or have impure thoughts or double-dip my chips. The balance of freedom and still feeling good about myself is the best its ever been.
So, that's what an atheist CAN look like. Are you surprised?
Though to people like him and me, that's a funny joke, to a lot of religious people, it isn't so funny at all. I don't think it's uncommon for Christians seeing someone leave the faith to assume it was because that person just wanted to sin til the cows came home, or til Dick Clark REALLY retired. In fact, I think I recall that judgment being made of Mr. Loftus, which is crazy if they'd read his book or his blog. The man has done a LOT of reading, researching and thinking. And if you think a former pastor would up and leave his faith (and profession) for something so simple as being able to sin freely, obviously you've never heard of televangelists.
As a former devout Christian, I know very well what is thought of nonbelievers. I don't think I ever thought they were evil, per se, but I did tend to pity them and felt bad they were going to hell. However, I did think that being an atheist gave them moral license to do whatever the hell they wanted, whether it something as bad as murder or as benign as saying a curse word.
And then I met one. I didn't just meet him - I became dear friends with him and ultimately became his partner. Side note: he didn't convert me to atheism - I was already seeking when I met him.
Moving on...this man had never been close to anyone as religious as me, and I'd never known anyone as atheist as him (is that a thing? degrees of atheism? Well I say it, thus it be). And you know what? He never judged me. He never said, "You're stupid for thinking that." He patiently answered questions I had, allowed me to engage him in long conversations about religion and the lack thereof, and even admitted that he did envy parts of those who had a faith.
But the thing that struck me most were the qualities in him I didn't think were possible in an atheist. For one, he was happy. And he hadn't always been happy; he actually went through some very dark times - and came through it a better man, WITHOUT religion. I didn't know that sort of change was possible without God. For another, he was hopeful. He doesn't need an idea of afterlife to be hopeful in this one. And lastly, he's a decent, moral person. He wants to be fair and do right by people, and he's what I think most would consider a good, moral man.
What I have found about myself since losing my faith is that I am basically still the same person I was. I still love my kids just as much, I still do nice things for other people, I still try to be as fair and good as I possibly can. I'm a fairly selfless person, as people go (I think that's the mom in me!)But the difference now is I don't do it because I will be punished OR rewarded if I do - I do it because I want to. Because it fulfills me and makes me and others happy. And, I don't beat myself up because I say "fuck" or have impure thoughts or double-dip my chips. The balance of freedom and still feeling good about myself is the best its ever been.
So, that's what an atheist CAN look like. Are you surprised?
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Unbelief in America
So, it's been awhile since I've written here...sorry, but life has been kicking my ass lately. Seems like I say that a lot, but it's true and I've had such little time for anything. In fact the only reason I'm able to do this now is my beloved is on a bus and is missing our usual chat time.
Ah, the topic at hand. I've been trying to read a little bit of my two newest books, Why I Became An Atheist and Parenting Beyond Belief, whenever I can. I take one of them to work with me every day with the intention of going off somewhere alone to read, but it doesn't happen often. See, I tend to hide the book when I carry it, as if it's gonna piss someone off.
This is America, see, a "Christian" nation. If you don't think so, watch a few vids of the recent inauguration and see how many times God and even scripture are mentioned. Don't get me wrong - I like the new Prez and I think he's tolerant and probably just saying what he's got to say - but it just goes to show you how important religion seems to be here. And it's far more prevalent in small towns, like the one I grew up, than in cities. So I REALLY feel for nonbelievers in those places.
I remember reading on some message board for atheists of a businessman somewhere in the South (extreme Biblewood, if you will) whose atheist beliefs were a total secret because he knew if were let out, he'd lose most of his customers and thus his business.
Now, I live in Albuquerque, a fairly progressive town. We've got lots of people from all the more traditionally liberal (and thus usually fairly nonreligious) side of things, but then obviously Catholicism is big as well. At any rate, it seems most anywhere in America, the default position is a belief in God.
So, when I cart my Why I Became an Atheist book around, I tend to hide the cover. I went to Burger King for lunch yesterday, and read a bit, and I was self-conscious about it (Ok, also about the fact that I was in a skirt and heels and some guy kept staring at me, but that's neither here nor there). I think that needs to be a goal for me - to not be so self-conscious about what I think and believe and just be more sure of myself.
The funny thing is, when I was a Christian I thought judgments were harsh. I thought the world was just against Christians. But on the other side now, I think, wow, I'm feel far more "lonely," if you will, in this position of unbelief.
So maybe a first step will be just carrying my book around. And if someone says anything, I'll tell them my thoughts. And try not to hit them in the head with the book. Or maybe not...it's a soft cover. That's just a misdemeanor, right?
Ah, the topic at hand. I've been trying to read a little bit of my two newest books, Why I Became An Atheist and Parenting Beyond Belief, whenever I can. I take one of them to work with me every day with the intention of going off somewhere alone to read, but it doesn't happen often. See, I tend to hide the book when I carry it, as if it's gonna piss someone off.
This is America, see, a "Christian" nation. If you don't think so, watch a few vids of the recent inauguration and see how many times God and even scripture are mentioned. Don't get me wrong - I like the new Prez and I think he's tolerant and probably just saying what he's got to say - but it just goes to show you how important religion seems to be here. And it's far more prevalent in small towns, like the one I grew up, than in cities. So I REALLY feel for nonbelievers in those places.
I remember reading on some message board for atheists of a businessman somewhere in the South (extreme Biblewood, if you will) whose atheist beliefs were a total secret because he knew if were let out, he'd lose most of his customers and thus his business.
Now, I live in Albuquerque, a fairly progressive town. We've got lots of people from all the more traditionally liberal (and thus usually fairly nonreligious) side of things, but then obviously Catholicism is big as well. At any rate, it seems most anywhere in America, the default position is a belief in God.
So, when I cart my Why I Became an Atheist book around, I tend to hide the cover. I went to Burger King for lunch yesterday, and read a bit, and I was self-conscious about it (Ok, also about the fact that I was in a skirt and heels and some guy kept staring at me, but that's neither here nor there). I think that needs to be a goal for me - to not be so self-conscious about what I think and believe and just be more sure of myself.
The funny thing is, when I was a Christian I thought judgments were harsh. I thought the world was just against Christians. But on the other side now, I think, wow, I'm feel far more "lonely," if you will, in this position of unbelief.
So maybe a first step will be just carrying my book around. And if someone says anything, I'll tell them my thoughts. And try not to hit them in the head with the book. Or maybe not...it's a soft cover. That's just a misdemeanor, right?
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Just another day...
That's what Sunday is now for me. And I like it that way.
I suppose the cat will be out of the bag now; both these blogs will show up on my blogger profile because I just don't have time to keep up different user names for different blogs here. Blah blah blah. I had a blog at JS by this same name, but precious few people knew it. The name is actually "zetetic" backwards, which basically means a seeker.
The reason I kept my former citetez blog mostly a secret was that a good deal of my JS friends (as is per the usual in the US) are Christians, if not fundamentalists, then at least nominally so. And, in the beginning, I was too. I was a Christian for the first 33 years of my life, before I found I just wasn't buying it anymore. And it wasn't just Christianity I was doubting - it was the very existence of God. (I capitalize it out of respect for my theist readers - not because I think it deserves it).
There are a host of reasons for it, but I will say that the first thing that started me on a quest for more answers was the arbitrariness of prayer (George Carlin has a HILARIOUS take on this; the act is on Youtube somewhere). But I'll admit the problem of evil was something that kept me up at night as well. I won't go into it much here; I have just started a book by John Loftus, who also has a blog here called Debunking Christianity, and once I get to his treatment of the problem of evil I'll likely do a post on it here.
At the moment, I think I'd consider myself agnostic. I'm not quite ready for that label of atheist, and maybe it's all just semantics, I don't know. I do know that losing my faith was quite possibly the most painful thing I have ever experienced, and that includes a life in which I lost my mother at a young age, finding out my father was at one time a very dangerous man, a divorce when I had 3 kids and a salary of $800 a month, and a whole host of other things which I may or may not discuss here. I did not come by it lightly, and it was not an emotional decision. It came through a couple of years of intense soul-searching, reading, discussing, bargaining and finally coming to the conclusion that what I believed for so long probably was not true.
In my journey, Julia Sweeney was one person I began to read, because she lost her faith as well. Yes, the same Julia Sweeney who played "Pat" on Saturday Night Live. She mentioned once having serious doubts about the existence of God and thinking "what would happen if I took off my god glasses for a minute - would everything be different?" (paraphrase). And I sort of did the same thing. And things were different, but the world did not end. In fact, mentally I am healthier than I have been in years and years.
I could write forever this morning - it's a topic I'm both passionate and reticent about, usually, because I don't like to rock the apple cart. But, I should probably keep this a bit shorter in the hopes I don't put you all to sleep.
If you are Christian, you may be offended by the things you read here. That's not my intention at all. You might be disturbed, though, and I hope that you are. I was very very disturbed by some things I was reading a couple of years ago, and it led me to where I am now. And I like this place.
If you are not a Christian, you may find my thoughts and reasons and all of that elementary. That's ok; I'm not a scholar and I never claim to be. In fact, the philosophy portion of Mr. Loftus's book is kind of kicking my ass right now in the area of comprehension. But maybe the humanity of what you read will at least entertain you for awhile.
Welcome.
I suppose the cat will be out of the bag now; both these blogs will show up on my blogger profile because I just don't have time to keep up different user names for different blogs here. Blah blah blah. I had a blog at JS by this same name, but precious few people knew it. The name is actually "zetetic" backwards, which basically means a seeker.
The reason I kept my former citetez blog mostly a secret was that a good deal of my JS friends (as is per the usual in the US) are Christians, if not fundamentalists, then at least nominally so. And, in the beginning, I was too. I was a Christian for the first 33 years of my life, before I found I just wasn't buying it anymore. And it wasn't just Christianity I was doubting - it was the very existence of God. (I capitalize it out of respect for my theist readers - not because I think it deserves it).
There are a host of reasons for it, but I will say that the first thing that started me on a quest for more answers was the arbitrariness of prayer (George Carlin has a HILARIOUS take on this; the act is on Youtube somewhere). But I'll admit the problem of evil was something that kept me up at night as well. I won't go into it much here; I have just started a book by John Loftus, who also has a blog here called Debunking Christianity, and once I get to his treatment of the problem of evil I'll likely do a post on it here.
At the moment, I think I'd consider myself agnostic. I'm not quite ready for that label of atheist, and maybe it's all just semantics, I don't know. I do know that losing my faith was quite possibly the most painful thing I have ever experienced, and that includes a life in which I lost my mother at a young age, finding out my father was at one time a very dangerous man, a divorce when I had 3 kids and a salary of $800 a month, and a whole host of other things which I may or may not discuss here. I did not come by it lightly, and it was not an emotional decision. It came through a couple of years of intense soul-searching, reading, discussing, bargaining and finally coming to the conclusion that what I believed for so long probably was not true.
In my journey, Julia Sweeney was one person I began to read, because she lost her faith as well. Yes, the same Julia Sweeney who played "Pat" on Saturday Night Live. She mentioned once having serious doubts about the existence of God and thinking "what would happen if I took off my god glasses for a minute - would everything be different?" (paraphrase). And I sort of did the same thing. And things were different, but the world did not end. In fact, mentally I am healthier than I have been in years and years.
I could write forever this morning - it's a topic I'm both passionate and reticent about, usually, because I don't like to rock the apple cart. But, I should probably keep this a bit shorter in the hopes I don't put you all to sleep.
If you are Christian, you may be offended by the things you read here. That's not my intention at all. You might be disturbed, though, and I hope that you are. I was very very disturbed by some things I was reading a couple of years ago, and it led me to where I am now. And I like this place.
If you are not a Christian, you may find my thoughts and reasons and all of that elementary. That's ok; I'm not a scholar and I never claim to be. In fact, the philosophy portion of Mr. Loftus's book is kind of kicking my ass right now in the area of comprehension. But maybe the humanity of what you read will at least entertain you for awhile.
Welcome.
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