Saturday, May 21, 2011

An Everyday Atheist

                                                             


   When I was young, I was in church every time the doors were open.   I was there for Sunday school, Wednesday night services, children’s choir on Saturday.  I believed because I was taught there was no other way, but to trust and obey. There was a niggling doubt that all this was true.  I remember asking church elders for proof of God’s existence. I was told I had to “have faith”.    I was not satisfied, but knew enough then to be quiet. After all, Santa and the tooth fairy were real, even though I was beginning to have my doubts about them too.

  I accepted unconditionally during my teen years. Church was a haven from the day to day pressures of growing up in a single parent home.   Church was safer than school with it’s bullies and hierarchy of rich kids, hoods, hicks , nerds and those like me  who seemed to belong everywhere and nowhere.  Church was a place I felt important. I was surrounded by adults who could help me figure things out from not only a religious perspective, but a social and emotional perspective too.

  When I entered my twenties as single parent I did what most of the twenty something’s were doing: I went to bars and clubs to meet people my age.  I’ll admit to drinking, though it was not as heavily as some.  I learned my alcohol limits the hard way a couple of times. It was a fun way to spend a weekend.  I had grown up dancing with my older sister. This was more of the same.  The best parts of going out were the hours spent getting ready to go out with my girlfriends.   I had also met my boyfriend in the same arena. These relationships proved that you could find love, friendship and other good things in the dens of iniquity.  My best relationships have come from bars, including G.

      I began to question whether or not my being in these places was as sinful as I had been reared to believe. Surely sin could be found there, but sin could be found in church as well.  Growing up in a Southern Baptists church had taught me that one of the greatest sins was to dance. But dancing made my body feel good. Not just in a sense of desirability, but in an exercise sense.  I found places in the bible that spoke of drinking wine /beer at celebrations.  Was this not a celebration every weekend?  I took care of my son and worked every week.  I was not an alcoholic.  Again, I found no definitive answers after asking my pastor/stepfather.  “Because Jesus said so” didn’t fit into logical thinking.


  I also began to explore other belief systems.  I thought back to the ancient Romans and Greeks.  They had their god’s, as did the Norse, Egyptians and Indians.  They all believed in their concept of afterlife. These civilizations were convinced they were correct.  Would “God” allow only a chose few to be correct and go to his heaven, forsaking these ancients?   I realized that Christianity also adopted many pagan customs in order to convert new followers. It started to sound like a pyramid scheme.  I realized that religions main focus was to control the behaviors of the masses by offering eternal rewards or damnation for right or wrong acts.  It was the ultimate “wait ‘til your father gets home” threat.  Was I not old enough to make my own decisions on my own behavior?  



 But like most realizations, Atheism comes from an intensely personal place.  I looked at the world around me.  I saw so many natural disasters.  There were godly people in all theses places. Were their prayers for safety not important?   I looked at violent crime.  Were those victims prayers not heard?  Were they unworthy of heavenly aid?  For what purpose was their suffering?   I looked at the abuse in my childhood.  What had I done that made me unworthy of His protection? What purpose did it serve?  If he was my all knowing, all powerful heavenly father: Why had I not been spared?  


 If HE was able to calm the storms and bring back the dead, why did he not stop the hands and mouths of my abusers?  That was the final realization.  If he wouldn’t protect me, he was just as much at fault. If he couldn’t protect me, then he was not worthy of my loyalty and worship.  If he could or would not do these things, then why should I call him GOD?  

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