Originally posted to Facebook on July 18, 2009:
It occurred to me the other day that the first time I publicly admitted I was an atheist, I was about 16 years old. I was walking down the street in front of the post office in downtown Stafford when an older man accosted me, shoving pamphlets for his church at me. I put my hands up in a defensive posture.
"Oh, uh. No, thanks. I'm an atheist," I told him.
As I walked past him down the street, he shouted after me, "Jesus is real! He died for your sins!"
I just said, "OK," and continued walking.
Around that time, I was attending confirmation classes, and my teachers kept reiterating that confirmation "is a very important sacrament that's not to be taken lightly" and that it "means you're an adult in the eyes of the church." Before that point, I was, for all intents and purposes, an agnostic. I didn't think much about the existence of any deity, I didn't pray, I hated attending church, and I was already beginning to disagree with many of the Catholic church's positions regarding gender roles, sexuality, etc.
When my teachers said, "You have to take this seriously and make sure you really want to do this," I took that message to heart and told my dad that maybe I shouldn't be going through with all of this because maybe I was an atheist.
He told me, "Just do it. You'll regret it later if you don't."
I didn't really know what he meant by that at the time. In retrospect, maybe he was referring to my someday getting married in a church. Does anyone who has ever held more than a five-minute conversation with me actually think that is ever going to happen? (The church part, not the marriage part. I'll probably get married someday. Probably not before I turn 30.)
So I begrudgingly dragged my feet through with the whole thing, disagreeing with the church almost every step of the way, and feeling like an utter phony for participating in this ceremony that held absolutely no relevance to my own life.
I was an "adult in the eyes of the church" now? Fine. I was going to make the adult decision to stop going to church. I figured, Why subject myself to something that made me so miserable? (If only I had given up dieting and self-loathing with such ease!)
From there, I kind of bounced between atheism and agnosticism for a while. Atheism seemed too "extreme" to me at some points in my life, but a few years ago, I decided to just be honest with myself about it. And it's really not so extreme.
I do try to give religion a fair shake. I really, really do. But it's hard. I can't help but see organized religion as a largely invidious force that stunts real progress in society. Mind you, I said "organized religion" and not "religious folks." I have friends who pray and attend worship services and do some really good things for their community, and I applaud them for that.
I'll repeat that: I applaud them, the individuals, and not the church, for doing good deeds. I also know plenty of people who aren't religious at all and who give back to their communities. For example, the Connecticut Valley Atheists do quite a bit of good stuff, like raise money for cancer research and help out at battered women shelters.
With or without religion, good people will do good things, and bad people will do bad things. That's just human nature. I try not to get into the argument of "Does religion cause more good or harm in the world?" because I don't believe good and harm are quantifiable things that can be measured and calculated. (To be truthful, I lean towards the latter, but like I said, I try to give religion a fair shake, so I won't get into that discussion here.)
What I want is a fair shake from religious folks. And to be honest, most of the religious people I know really don't try to push their beliefs on me, and I thank them for that. Unfortunately, I know a fair number of people who think I should practice what they preach.
But what I probably hate most is the assumption that I must be miserable and that my life must be empty and meaningless because I don't believe in any kind of god. Nothing could be further from the truth! I've never looked back or wondered whether my life would be more meaningful if I had religion. I already know it wouldn't be.
I have an interesting and unique family, whom I love very much. I have fantastic friends who I'd bend over backwards for. I have a wonderful boyfriend, and we love and respect each other so much. I work a job that's never the same every day; it's often frustrating and stressful, but it's also rewarding and fulfilling.
So what, then, do I need religion for?
I can already see enough beauty and wonder and goodness in the world, without believing that it was created by any kind of divine power. True, I'm a little bit rudderless at the moment and don't know exactly what I want out of life, but hey, I'm 23. That's to be expected.
I call bullshit on anybody who claims to know the meaning of life or who claims to find that meaning in a book that's essentially older than dirt. And I find it especially interesting that human beings who have difficulty discerning the intentions of our Constitution's drafters would claim to know with near-absolute certainty the intentions of men who penned the Bible - a book that is, in my opinion, certainly much less relevant to our society than the Constitution.
But now I'm just being critical.
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