Ask an atheist

[Ipsey]

I'm always puzzled by the "where do you find meaning in life" question they ask every year at the doctor's office for my physical. Umm....life? I know what they're getting at with the question, but to me life seems pretty darn meaningful. It's not like I stumbled into the pit of despair when I left my Christian faith behind.

 

If anything, life post religion for me has gotten better, more peaceful, more meaningful, more enjoyable. Sundays are now my favorite day - far more restful than they were before. In the morning is also a great time to go grocery shopping. :0)

 

Weird! I've never had my doctor ask me any such thing.

[mamaraby]

Weird! I've never had my doctor ask me any such thing.

Until this one I haven't ever had a doctor ask me that either. I really like her so it's not enough to make me look for a different doctor. I suspect she's screening for depression in a round about way.

[Lady Florida.]

Question: If you knew you were to die today, say within the next hour, would it worry you?

 

Worried about death? About the actual dying? About those I leave behind?

 

1. No, I wouldn't worry about being dead. I'm not worried about it. I'll be dead so I won't know I'm dead.

 

2. Yes, kind of. I wouldn't want it to be painful or lingering. I'm not ready to go. I love life and I love the people in my life. I hope I have many many years of life left. I'd be more sad than worried I suppose. But I'd feel that sadness and worry while I'm alive. Once I'm dead it will be over.

 

3. I'd feel incredibly sad for dh, ds and others who I know love me. 

 

 

 

I want to add one more thing.  I think what is actually being asked is we would worry that 'maybe it's all true, what about eternity, salvation'.

Yes, that seemed to be the "real" question. My answer to that is no, not at all.

[Lady Florida.]

double post

[Teannika]

Thanks for the replies.

I don't have anything to add, still just taking in what has been said and reflecting.

[Aelwydd]

This is one of the concepts about religion that does bother me the most. The idea that life isn't valuable except for preparation for afterlife.

 

 

You know what's a really depressing thought (at least to me)?  The idea that life is just a means to an eternal, torturous existence, with no hope ever of reprieve or rest.  Theists often like to focus on the amazing future awaiting those who are faithful; but, according to their own beliefs, such a reward is guaranteed to only ever be enjoyed by a relative few souls.

 

Which means the vast majority of humanity is only born to suffer in life, and then suffer indescribably worse for eternity. When I was a teenager suffering from depression, and trying to sort through my Christian upbringing, I was convinced from the absolute silent response to my prayers, and the unceasing heavy darkness I felt that I was never going to have enough faith to please God.  And therefore, I was almost certainly going to be damned to hell.  I understood that, statistically, if only a few make it, then my odds were bleak.  And so I spent weeks debating whether I should just given and kill myself and give myself over to my eternal fate, or spend the rest of my life in a kind of dread, knowing when I finally died, I'd face judgment for the sins I had added in my life.

 

Many Christians will say that heaven is open to anybody, and only those who choose to go to hell go there.  But, when you are given, as a matter of divine fact, the information that most people will be turned aside, including many people who recognized and called Jesus as "Lord," and then told that the final culmination of history is a bloodbath of God's wrath leaving both the saints and the sinners to meet horrific ends to their mortal lives, that whole "Jesus died to save you!" rings pretty hollow.

 

I'm very grateful my depression abated enough that I did not follow through on my abject thoughts of swallowing pills or idling my car inside a closed garage. Now, as I find myself more and more adrift of any theistic belief at all, I realize how much the evangelical, "hope-filled" Gospel of my youth contributed to the despair of my teen years. 

 

I sometimes think of total cessation of existence as a sad, endless note underpinning life.  But, at least I'm facing that reality now, rather than hiding behind false hopes of being "raptured" away from death.  And, as much as it pains me to think of my son's eventual demise, at least I feel that there IS peaceful rest at the end, and no longer the terrible, gut wrenching fear of losing not only myself, but a good portion of people I have known and loved to a hideous fate.

 

And don't get me started on the "But God will wipe away the memory" spiel.  Yes, that is exactly a hopeful message--not only losing the memory of those loved and damned to hell, but realizing people are really just programmable robots for God.  Rather than deal with the dreadful company of a bunch of grief-stricken people who are supposed to be focused on adoring Him, God would selfishly deprive of them of even the very memory of people who touched them, shaped their loves, and whom were dearly, deeply loved.  What does it matter if He saved their souls, only to eviscerate them of any emotional, true meaning?  What context does "choice" have to "accept his sacrifice" and his "love," if it means you live with gaps and hallows in your memory, in your self for all eternity?

 

Wow, I didn't even realize all that was inside me.  I have been carefully reading threads on this topic for months, and thinking about what I hold sacred.  And I guess the answer to that is my humanity. If Christianity, or theism, demands me to surrender that, or to sacrifice my "selfhood" in the name of some ideal of love, then I call that a desecration.  It's like teaching an abused and debased woman to love her controlling and jealous lover, because he has just done so much for her, and he just wants her undivided attention all the time.  And if she fails to give it, or she turns away to another, he throws her into a burning pit of refuse, while he marries her best friend.  Also, he won't hesitate to toss her children in with her, if they don't take his side and choose to love him as their father. If she remains faithful, even through all his relentless demands on her physical person, her time, her desires, her dreams, and she puts all that aside and sacrifices it on the altar of his love, then she gets a future of endless worship and adoration of him, while having her memories of any objecting friends and family summarily wiped from her head.  All of it is disturbing and heart wrenching, but the last represents a violation that is so fundamental, the only word I can call it is evil.

 

I don't know if atheists or secular humanists or whatever have any meaning to life.  Maybe meaning is simply whatever reason you find to go on living until you can't anymore.  But I do know that however temporal or shallow it may seem to a Christian, or theist, it's still a damn sight more hopeful, generous towards humanity, and charitable than anything promised by the God of the Bible.

 

There, I said it.  And it feels good to finally get it out.

[Aelwydd]

I'm sorry, I don't mean to rehash what has already been said.  I feel a bit raw from sharing what I did.  And a bit lost.

 

Is this what de-conversion feels like? 

[Truscifi]

I'm sorry, I don't mean to rehash what has already been said.  I feel a bit raw from sharing what I did.  And a bit lost.

 

Is this what de-conversion feels like? 

 

:grouphug: :grouphug: :grouphug:

 

I decided the whole thing didn't make sense as any kind of being I would worship when I learned the story of Elisha and the bears in my aunt's church when I was 8, so I didn't have the struggle you did, but I would imagine so.

[albeto.]

I'm sorry, I don't mean to rehash what has already been said.  I'm feel a bit raw from sharing what I did.  And a bit lost.

 

Is this what de-conversion feels like? 

 

There is nothing to apologize for. What's been said already has been said in different contexts. What will be said next will meet new ears from another direction. I'm glad you shared what you did because it seems a bit therapeutic, but also because it's worth hearing. We live in a nation with a very strong religious privilege, and one of the things this privilege offers is a social taboo about speaking out against it. But there's a reason a free society doesn't value censorship, and censorship of the mind is a sneaky way in which religious beliefs are supported against the natural curiosity that would question them similarly. Your words ring true for me, they summarize much of the evolution of my own thoughts over the last couple years. I'm sure they'll ring true for others, too.

 

I think there's an element of recognizing betrayal from the ones you trusted most (not so much the people, but also the people because they were the ones selling this belief with such sincerity). That recognition is painful. Betrayal is painful. It reminds us of our vulnerabilities and tears straight through to the  most fragile parts of our self, reminding us that safety is an illusion and the most we can do is try and surround ourselves with trusted people. But how do you know who to trust? How can you trust someone who believes this creature that would create billions of souls to eternal torture and endless trauma is a good creature, worthy of worship? How can you know what to believe in, and what beliefs you'll accept because of gullibility? How can you know all these things and more when the foundation of everything you thought you knew has crumbled and revealed a weak, and destructive foundation? And when people say, "I respect your freedom to believe what you do," do they recognize just how many people don't have that freedom because the anxiety caused by questioning beliefs is just too great to endure?

 

But you do learn to trust, you do learn to share, you do learn to take chances with the most intimate part of you. You learn to redefine what is good and right and valuable. You learn to not judge a person's worth or credibility on their beliefs but on so many qualities. You learn to keep your defenses up when the wolf is at the door, and  you learn to identify that wolf in a new way. You learn that by sharing your most vulnerable side with someone who trusts you enough to share their most vulnerable side really does become the "meaning of life" You'll learn what things you value most, and why, and learn to analyze things you've always thought in a new way, in a free way, a way that doesn't ask you to willfully subjugate yourself to the self-declared authority of another person, or a assumed person who is unwilling (incapable?) of communication. You're free in a sense that you don't have to continue this "brand loyalty" if you no longer care for the brand. You're free in that no one is keeping tabs of your actions and even thoughts and those desires and fears hidden even to yourself. You're free because you have the ability to be autonomous, truly autonomous, without promise of eternal reward or threat of eternal suffering. And the sex is better without guilt. ;-)

 

I think you're free mostly because you get to decide what is the meaning of your life. 

 

Carpe the freaking diem. 

[Pam in CT]

I'm sorry, I don't mean to rehash what has already been said.  I feel a bit raw from sharing what I did.  And a bit lost.

 

Is this what de-conversion feels like? 

 

:grouphug: Aw, honey.

 

Give yourself a break.  

 

Not all those who wander are lost.

 

 

 

And, I think from your posts you already know this, but I'll say it just to underscore:  it is possible to frame all this from a different perspective altogether; not: what do I believe? but rather: how then shall I live?

[Onceuponatime]

I'm sorry, I don't mean to rehash what has already been said.  I feel a bit raw from sharing what I did.  And a bit lost.

 

Is this what de-conversion feels like? 

 

:grouphug:

 

 

I think each person's experience is a little different. Mine was so slow and gradual that I never felt any trauma, except that of wondering how I will deal with people who don't understand. The last straw in my faith evaporation happened a few months ago when a missionary to Thailand came to our church to drum up support. He showed a short documentary on Thailand which was fascinating. It mentioned their cultural mores and how they were considered to be such a happy people. Then after the video, the missionary told us how in spite of their seemingly pleasant lives, they were lacking the "truth" and needed "salvation." I felt so sorry for those Thai people who would be the objects of such an education.

[livetoread]

I'm sorry, I don't mean to rehash what has already been said. I feel a bit raw from sharing what I did. And a bit lost.

 

Is this what de-conversion feels like?

It certainly can feel that way. It did for me. My de-conversion took years as I gradually became more and more metaphorical in my interpretations. It was scary and I often felt alone, seeing things differently from the believers around me. They'd talk about beliefs and feelings I used to share but now saw as strange and even abusive (as you touched on above).

 

I still feel sort of alien sometimes, but it's nice to know there are others who also go, "Uh?" when the apologetics start. I do feel much more at peace now, and I like devoting my mental energy to other things besides trying to make unsupportable things supportable. It became exhausting towards the end.

[BrookValley.]

For myself, if I found out that there was no heaven, no judgment, no immortality I would feel like this life was all a big waste of time. Sorry. But even if I've done wonderful things and helped people in amazing ways, those lives would all end as well and ultimately mean nothing. I guess there is immediate here and now satisfaction, but not long term. I don't know, I guess I can't relate to what you are all saying. How you are fine with it. And maybe you will tell me that I'm too selfish or something for thinking this way.

 

 

Even if you've done wonderful things and helped people in amazing ways? You're a mother; isn't that amazing and wonderful? And I'm sure you've done other awesome things.  I know you're not saying your children are a waste of time, don't misunderstand me, but even if you found out there was no afterlife, you would still feel your life was a waste of time? :crying:  Whether you believe in something after this life or not, that just seems like such a sad and depressing way to go about it. How can I be fine with it? How can I not? Even if I *did* believe in heaven and judgement, why would I not make this earthly life the best I possibly could?

 

Give yourself some more credit!

 

 

 

This is one of the concepts about religion that does bother me the most. The idea that life isn't valuable except for preparation for afterlife. Essentially, it gives the appearance of being a cult of death, if that makes sense. It's the kind of ideology that inspires World Vision to throw so many employees, volunteers, and supporters under the bus to appease the more vocal, powerful Christian conservatives. It's the kind of ideology that inspires people to ignore the horrifying things people do to one another, because this experience is understood to be temporary. It's the kind of ideology that encourages people to pool resources around legislation of sexual practices rather than scientific discovery. 

 

People tend to think atheists get all up in arms about religion because they're mad at a god, or mad at those who follow a god. People think atheists get offended at things like saying "bless you" after sneezes, or that they want to force everyone to say "happy holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas," or impose a gay agenda in the public schools. In my experience, atheists get offended at the propagation of anti-scientific thought, stalling progress, coercing public policy to appeal to outdated moral codes based on a culture irrelevant to our own. We are offended at the targeted indoctrination of the young, poor, and uneducated (inspiring  anti-intellectual fear-campaigns that are stunningly accepted in public education and media "news"). We are angry about legislating religious beliefs into a nation created specifically to be secular in nature. These things don't stem from this idea of life being temporary, but the idea that life is temporary accepted as a fact, becomes support for these ideas. 

 

:iagree:   X 1,000. If I ever act the angry atheist, this is exactly why.

[HRAAB]

I'm sorry, I don't mean to rehash what has already been said.  I feel a bit raw from sharing what I did.  And a bit lost.

 

Is this what de-conversion feels like? 

 

 

:grouphug:  :grouphug:  It did for me but then the upward climb began.  I feel better now than I did in all the years I spent trying to hang onto something that that kept slapping me back down every time I took one step forward.  You can come out on the other side.

[Lady Florida.]

I'm sorry, I don't mean to rehash what has already been said.  I feel a bit raw from sharing what I did.  And a bit lost.

 

Is this what de-conversion feels like? 

 

:grouphug:

 

For some it's extremely freeing. For others it's terrifying. For still others it's a combination of both. Once you come through it, if you do come out on the unbelieving side, it's much easier. Then you just live your life ("Live a good life,etc.") and not think about it except when others bring it up.

[AMJ]

Why are so many atheists so militant about it? Why can't you just inwardly roll your eyes at what religious folks believe but keep your opinions about it to yourself?

 

My grandfather was most likely an atheist (at least he never mentioned any sort of spiritual beliefs and refused to answer any questions about the subject by saying that it was private) but he also never once denigrated others' beliefs. What has changed between that generation of atheists and today's atheists?

I'd like to throw my 2-cents' worth in on this one.

 

Nothing of significance has changed from one generation to the next. The type of in - your - face atheism you describe seeing now was also around in your grandfather's generation, just as there are considerate atheists around today. How one treats others of differing views is not tied in to whether or not they believe in any deity/ies; it is instead a factor of whether they are taught/choose to be respectful of others.

 

Many who choose to be militant in their beliefs think that they are justified in being so, often as a response to their own perception of being or having been persecuted. Just look at the history of religious and cultural strife over the millenia -- I bet most involved can't say what originally started the conflict.

 

Do not mistake militants of any sort as being representative of the bulk of any population. They are extremists, and by definition they are the small, though more noticable, minority.

[AMJ]

 

I believe in love. Love for myself and love for others.

 

The all - time best Christmas card I ever found simply said, "I believe in love and hope and Santa Claus."

 

'Nuf said.

[AMJ]

Oh, a lot of theistic people believe their moral values come directly from God. Where do atheists think their moral values came from?

Mine developed over the course of my life, and they continue to develop.

 

I started with what I was being taught, both actively by my parents, teachers, and older kids, and their inactive teachings (through the behavior they modeled).

 

As I grew and started to think about hows and whys I started asking questions. I listened to and pondered upon the responses I received, and the lack of responses that were often the result.

 

As I continued to grow and think I observed those with whom I came into contact. I looked at how they treated people, and what resulted from that treatment. I looked at the values they claimed to hold, and whether they actually lived up to those values. I dropped many so called values that were really just social conditioning to devalue certain sets of people. And I adopted values I found to be worthwhile and useful.

 

Over the years I have found that what people care about most really isn't religion, or a set of spiritual beliefs. Instead people want to be valued, for who they actually are. This is universal throughout humanity.

 

If you look at the basic, core values of the vast majority of people you will find that they all hold with the same base set of values. It's just the little details everyone gets so worked up about.

 

And, I personally think, if you look at values truly held by people (not just professed or claimed) you will find that each person went through a process similar to mine to come to their own set.

[Aelwydd]

Truscifi, albeto, Pam, Eliana, and everyone else--thanks for your kind words.  I have been in a place for a while now where I have admitted that the only thing that still draws me to religious observance is the aesthetic nature of it.  I have not been to Mass (Episcopalian here, or I guess ex-) in a while now.  I enjoyed the ritual of it, the music, and the way it engages my senses.  There is some ethereal quality about that definitely appeals.  Like most people, there's part of my nature that seeks something ordered and timeless against ensuing chaos and relentless entropy.  I think that is what religion is probably ultimately about, a kind of atavistic raging against the dark night of a deterministic cosmos.

 

But I have ceased believing, and even hoping, that anyone was listening to my prayers a long time ago.  I don't even miss the community of believers anymore.  (I have found a new weekend communal gathering, called ice hockey, lol). 

 

My family of origin are all still pretty immersed in evangelical Christianity.  They are too afraid to ever leave it, although one sibling is daring to question here and there.  I'm not angry at the betrayal of being raised in the Matrix.  What choice did they have?  I'm familiar enough with the psychological strategies of cults to understand how things like programmed compartmentalism, immersion in common culture, and reinforcement through regular meetings with peers and leaders to understand that to walk away from their faith is akin to losing almost every measure by which they understand and define themselves.  I'm not angry at them.  I feel sad that our relationships may never be had without the oppression of religious thought and function permeating every conversation, every celebration.  Even as a skeptic, my own identity has been strongly influenced by my religious upbringing. 

 

I don't identify as an agnostic or an atheist, because I don't know what it is I believe or don't believe, as far as God's existence.  I do know I don't believe in a God who is personally affected or concerned about the human condition.  I guess secular humanist or skeptic is what I consider myself to be now.

 

 

 

[Dana]

 

I don't identify as an agnostic or an atheistic, because I don't know what it is I believe or don't believe, as far as God's existence. I do know I don't believe in a God who is personally affected or concerned about the human condition. I guess secular humanist or skeptic is what I consider myself to be now.

:grouphug:

It's a journey.

You don't need to name your stage.

[livetoread]

I attended church for awhile after I knew deep down I no longer believed. We had switched to a liberal church in a beautiful building with a gorgeous, high church, classical music liturgy. Every week I was gently encouraged to be a better person - more loving, more forgiving. They made it easy to volunteer for issues I cared about. My need for beauty was fed. We never really made friends there, but we weren't trying and people were nice.

 

Ultimately we quit attending though for several reasons. My kids had to be dragged every week and that got old (they were little atheists from the get go despite my best efforts - that's a whole 'nother issue). My husband had no desire to go. I could have attended by myself, and did briefly, but eventually stopped after my annoyance with the inconsistencies outweighed the good. It was the jumping around between traditional and liberal theology depending on the need that bothered me. The "Prayer is about getting close to God, not Santa in the sky" followed by "Let's bow our heads and pray for healing for Mr. Jones." The "of course we accept evolution," followed by, "When Adam and Eve sinned in the garden..."

 

When I found myself saying, "Wait a minute," way too often I finally stopped. I found other ways to get my beauty needs met, and I just have to be a little more self-disciplined about volunteering. I don't miss it.

[AMJ]

Truscifi, albeto, Pam, Eliana, and everyone else--thanks for your kind words. I have been in a place for a while now where I have admitted that the only thing that still draws me to religious observance is the aesthetic nature of it. I have not been to Mass (Episcopalian here, or I guess ex-) in a while now. I enjoyed the ritual of it, the music, and the way it engages my senses. There is some ethereal quality about that definitely appeals. Like most people, there's part of my nature that seeks something ordered and timeless against ensuing chaos and relentless entropy. I think that is what religion is probably ultimately about, a kind of atavistic raging against the dark night of a deterministic cosmos.

 

But I have ceased believing, and even hoping, that anyone was listening to my prayers a long time ago. I don't even miss the community of believers anymore. (I have found a new weekend communal gathering, called ice hockey, lol).

 

My family of origin are all still pretty immersed in evangelical Christianity. They are too afraid to ever leave it, although one sibling is daring to question here and there. I'm not angry at the betrayal of being raised in the Matrix. What choice did they have? I'm familiar enough with the psychological strategies of cults to understand how things like programmed compartmentalism, immersion in common culture, and reinforcement through regular meetings with peers and leaders to understand that to walk away from their faith is akin to losing almost every measure by which they understand and define themselves. I'm not angry at them. I feel sad that our relationships may never be had without the oppression of religious thought and function permeating every conversation, every celebration. Even as a skeptic, my own identity has been strongly influenced by my religious upbringing.

 

I don't identify as an agnostic or an atheist, because I don't know what it is I believe or don't believe, as far as God's existence. I do know I don't believe in a God who is personally affected or concerned about the human condition. I guess secular humanist or skeptic is what I consider myself to be now.

Beautifully said.

[fraidycat]

This is one of the concepts about religion that does bother me the most. The idea that life isn't valuable except for preparation for afterlife. Essentially, it gives the appearance of being a cult of death, if that makes sense. It's the kind of ideology that inspires World Vision to throw so many employees, volunteers, and supporters under the bus to appease the more vocal, powerful Christian conservatives. It's the kind of ideology that inspires people to ignore the horrifying things people do to one another, because this experience is understood to be temporary. It's the kind of ideology that encourages people to pool resources around legislation of sexual practices rather than scientific discovery. 

 

People tend to think atheists get all up in arms about religion because they're mad at a god, or mad at those who follow a god. People think atheists get offended at things like saying "bless you" after sneezes, or that they want to force everyone to say "happy holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas," or impose a gay agenda in the public schools. In my experience, atheists get offended at the propagation of anti-scientific thought, stalling progress, coercing public policy to appeal to outdated moral codes based on a culture irrelevant to our own. We are offended at the targeted indoctrination of the young, poor, and uneducated (inspiring  anti-intellectual fear-campaigns that are stunningly accepted in public education and media "news"). We are angry about legislating religious beliefs into a nation created specifically to be secular in nature. These things don't stem from this idea of life being temporary, but the idea that life is temporary accepted as a fact, becomes support for these ideas.

 

  

I used to feel that way. I used to think believing in god and there being more after death gave my life purpose and meaning. Now I realize it was a false cover. I could say god gave my life purpose and meaning, but what purpose? To bring more people to believing in him? What exactly does that accomplish? There was no actual meaning or purpose for me. I find that my life actually has much more purpose now. Now I know this is it. There is no eternity to save the good stuff for. This life is alll we get and we need to make the most of it.  That has helped guide my life much more than believing in god ever did.

  

I think that to say this life is worth nothing without the promise of an afterlife is a sad disregard for the value of life itself.

 

  

You know what's a really depressing thought (at least to me)?  The idea that life is just a means to an eternal, torturous existence, with no hope ever of reprieve or rest.  Theists often like to focus on the amazing future awaiting those who are faithful; but, according to their own beliefs, such a reward is guaranteed to only ever be enjoyed by a relative few souls.

 

Which means the vast majority of humanity is only born to suffer in life, and then suffer indescribably worse for eternity. When I was a teenager suffering from depression, and trying to sort through my Christian upbringing, I was convinced from the absolute silent response to my prayers, and the unceasing heavy darkness I felt that I was never going to have enough faith to please God.  And therefore, I was almost certainly going to be damned to hell.  I understood that, statistically, if only a few make it, then my odds were bleak.  And so I spent weeks debating whether I should just given and kill myself and give myself over to my eternal fate, or spend the rest of my life in a kind of dread, knowing when I finally died, I'd face judgment for the sins I had added in my life.

 

Many Christians will say that heaven is open to anybody, and only those who choose to go to hell go there.  But, when you are given, as a matter of divine fact, the information that most people will be turned aside, including many people who recognized and called Jesus as "Lord," and then told that the final culmination of history is a bloodbath of God's wrath leaving both the saints and the sinners to meet horrific ends to their mortal lives, that whole "Jesus died to save you!" rings pretty hollow.

 

I'm very grateful my depression abated enough that I did not follow through on my abject thoughts of swallowing pills or idling my car inside a closed garage. Now, as I find myself more and more adrift of any theistic belief at all, I realize how much the evangelical, "hope-filled" Gospel of my youth contributed to the despair of my teen years. 

 

I sometimes think of total cessation of existence as a sad, endless note underpinning life.  But, at least I'm facing that reality now, rather than hiding behind false hopes of being "raptured" away from death.  And, as much as it pains me to think of my son's eventual demise, at least I feel that there IS peaceful rest at the end, and no longer the terrible, gut wrenching fear of losing not only myself, but a good portion of people I have known and loved to a hideous fate.

 

And don't get me started on the "But God will wipe away the memory" spiel.  Yes, that is exactly a hopeful message--not only losing the memory of those loved and damned to hell, but realizing people are really just programmable robots for God.  Rather than deal with the dreadful company of a bunch of grief-stricken people who are supposed to be focused on adoring Him, God would selfishly deprive of them of even the very memory of people who touched them, shaped their loves, and whom were dearly, deeply loved.  What does it matter if He saved their souls, only to eviscerate them of any emotional, true meaning?  What context does "choice" have to "accept his sacrifice" and his "love," if it means you live with gaps and hallows in your memory, in your self for all eternity?

 

Wow, I didn't even realize all that was inside me.  I have been carefully reading threads on this topic for months, and thinking about what I hold sacred.  And I guess the answer to that is my humanity. If Christianity, or theism, demands me to surrender that, or to sacrifice my "selfhood" in the name of some ideal of love, then I call that a desecration.  It's like teaching an abused and debased woman to love her controlling and jealous lover, because he has just done so much for her, and he just wants her undivided attention all the time.  And if she fails to give it, or she turns away to another, he throws her into a burning pit of refuse, while he marries her best friend.  Also, he won't hesitate to toss her children in with her, if they don't take his side and choose to love him as their father. If she remains faithful, even through all his relentless demands on her physical person, her time, her desires, her dreams, and she puts all that aside and sacrifices it on the altar of his love, then she gets a future of endless worship and adoration of him, while having her memories of any objecting friends and family summarily wiped from her head.  All of it is disturbing and heart wrenching, but the last represents a violation that is so fundamental, the only word I can call it is evil.

 

I don't know if atheists or secular humanists or whatever have any meaning to life.  Maybe meaning is simply whatever reason you find to go on living until you can't anymore.  But I do know that however temporal or shallow it may seem to a Christian, or theist, it's still a damn sight more hopeful, generous towards humanity, and charitable than anything promised by the God of the Bible.

 

There, I said it.  And it feels good to finally get it out.

  

The all - time best Christmas card I ever found simply said, "I believe in love and hope and Santa Claus."

'Nuf said.

  

Truscifi, albeto, Pam, Eliana, and everyone else--thanks for your kind words.  I have been in a place for a while now where I have admitted that the only thing that still draws me to religious observance is the aesthetic nature of it.  I have not been to Mass (Episcopalian here, or I guess ex-) in a while now.  I enjoyed the ritual of it, the music, and the way it engages my senses.  There is some ethereal quality about that definitely appeals.  Like most people, there's part of my nature that seeks something ordered and timeless against ensuing chaos and relentless entropy.  I think that is what religion is probably ultimately about, a kind of atavistic raging against the dark night of a deterministic cosmos.

 

But I have ceased believing, and even hoping, that anyone was listening to my prayers a long time ago.  I don't even miss the community of believers anymore.  (I have found a new weekend communal gathering, called ice hockey, lol). 

 

My family of origin are all still pretty immersed in evangelical Christianity.  They are too afraid to ever leave it, although one sibling is daring to question here and there.  I'm not angry at the betrayal of being raised in the Matrix.  What choice did they have?  I'm familiar enough with the psychological strategies of cults to understand how things like programmed compartmentalism, immersion in common culture, and reinforcement through regular meetings with peers and leaders to understand that to walk away from their faith is akin to losing almost every measure by which they understand and define themselves.  I'm not angry at them.  I feel sad that our relationships may never be had without the oppression of religious thought and function permeating every conversation, every celebration.  Even as a skeptic, my own identity has been strongly influenced by my religious upbringing. 

 

I don't identify as an agnostic or an atheist, because I don't know what it is I believe or don't believe, as far as God's existence.  I do know I don't believe in a God who is personally affected or concerned about the human condition.  I guess secular humanist or skeptic is what I consider myself to be now.

  

:grouphug:

It's a journey.

You don't need to name your stage.

Apparently I've been "loose" with the like button lately. Mine are all gone. :(

 

So, LIKETY LIKE LIKE LIKE.

[Mom in High Heels]

Aelwydd, it can be a terrifying process if you let it.  I know people who were scared and felt lost, but others who just feel relief.  I have never truly believed, and the day I decided to let it go, it was freeing.  It wasn't a decision I made lightly, but it was far easier than trying and trying and trying to believe something that just seemed ridiculous.  I decided if it was that much work to make myself try to believe, it simply wasn't for me.  Once I realized that, it was simple to free myself of the struggle.  (((HUGS)))

 

 

ETA:  I should mention that James Bond was never a believer, but letting it go was incredibly difficult for him.  It was scary and hard, but once he made the decision, he too felt better.

[Stacia]

I haven't read this thread (yet), but thought this is an interesting & thought-provoking article...

 

http://americanhumanist.org/HNN/details/2012-05-unelectable-atheists-us-states-that-prohibit-godless

 

Found this article because I saw Alan Williamson's post that says:

 

When the Nigerian Boko Haram leader Abubakar Shekau announced god is telling him to sell the 200+ girls he abducted, he instantly became more qualified than atheists are to hold public office in 7 U.S. states, according to the text of their constitutions.

 

[Pam in CT]

ALERT:  Where's that Zombie Crossing emoticon???

 

 

Laura linked this VERY OLD classic thread and I've spent over an hour re-reading it (highly recommended Good Stuff), and...

Greta Christina explains it. Be aware that there is much cussing. If you're willing to read all the way, you'll even see why she believes anger is necessary.

Not all atheists agree with her. I do.

 

...Kathy, I wanted to thank you for this.

 

I've really been mulling over Anger for a while now, when it is necessary and useful, when making space for it is necessary and useful, and how doing so is... necessary and useful, I suppose.  It didn't particularly move me back in May 2013 but evidently I'm in a rather different place at the moment, and today it really did.