Atheism: My First Four Years

A little more than four years ago, a bolt of lightening came from the sky … No, that's not it. I gave up faith for lent. A funny thing happens when you do that. Nope, that's not how it goes either (though it was the right time of year).

I haven't given many details of my deconversion but I'll save a more conventional “testimony” post for some future date. Suffice it to say that around 4 years ago, near Darwin's 199^th birthday, I admitted to myself that I didn't believe anymore.

So, what's it been like? Well, to start, God not striking me dead for my apostasy was quite a relief. Seriously, even though my reasoning took me to this place. I still half expected that God would finally respond to my questioning. That he didn't added confirmation to my position. It was both a relief and a disappointment.

I don't recall much of the March that followed. I think this was when I began making preparations for stepping down from my positions in the church. I had already told the other elders and the pastor that I was going to step down as elder. At the time, I said it was just time. I didn't know myself that I was going to deconvert. But the stress of trying to make reality conform to my beliefs was really wearing. I also turned the home group that met in my house over to the leadership of a friend and fellow elder. (A home group is like a house church or a Bible study.)

I know I didn't tell my spouse until April. I took her out to dinner and told her I had something to tell her. In the moment, I hoped only that she wouldn't run crying from the restaurant. As we drove home, she said she was happy that I could confide in her and I, in turn, was grateful simply that she was willing to stay with me.

As an elder in the church I felt it my responsibility to tell those church folks closest to me personally. But I still needed to tell my kids first. So I made plans to tell them and then quickly tell some people outside the family that they could talk to. I told the kids my plan and also how I expected them to handle the news. This went reasonably well.

I told the pastor who appreciated my honesty and my integrity. I then told the people in the Bible study that I ran in my home. I went to individual members of the home group and spoke with them about it. It was my intention to continue participating in home group. Then a blow came. They decided that they needed to take a vote to decide if I could continue coming. I do understand. My deconversion came as quite a shock. At least one wondered to whom they would go for the hard questions now that I wasn't a Christian (as if I suddenly knew less than I did before—but I did understand). Eventually, they voted in favor of me continuing. I then did continue for a few months. In time, the awkwardness proved too much. I would usually step out during prayer time just because I didn't want to listen to it. I would contribute my two cents to the study. After these contributions I let the new leader acknowledge or modify what I said without comment. It didn't seem fair to dominate the conversation as when I was the leader. So I always let the leader have the last word. But, I came to feel as if they were humoring me when I spoke. This wasn't mean, I think. I would contribute what I knew about some passage while everyone would remain silent as I spoke, not in the he's-one-of-us silence but the let's-be-polite silence. So I stopped going.

Around the same time, I stopped going to church. My spouse was (and still is) very involved church and so much of the church service, I was by myself, sitting there, feeling like a spectacle. Mind you, no one went out of their way to make me feel that way. But you had to wonder what they were thinking. “Better put on a good show for the atheist.” “If we pray hard enough, perhaps he'll come around.” “Poor [spouse].” “Gee, this is awkward.”

I didn't sing the songs. I didn't bow my head to pray. I did, however, stand when they stood and sat when they sat. I had always been critical of what a speaker said and now what was said was almost intolerably inane. (I am speaking more of my feelings than I am of actual sermon content.) So then this too ended.

That Christmas, I came clean with my in-laws. I had made the decision that I wouldn't tell my parents. Both my in-laws and my parents live a very long way from us. But my parents are along in years and so it seems probable I can let them die in peace, untroubled by this news. So far this has been workable. My in-laws, on the other hand, most likely live another twenty or thirty years. So I spoke to my father-in-law. It was almost as hard as asking for his daughter's hand in marriage. In any case, I used the term non-theist somewhere along the way. It turned out to be a good spur-of-the-moment decision. As many do, he seemed to associate atheism with all the evil in the world. He was glad I wasn't one of those. I think in the intervening years I've become more casual in my terms and, I think, he's become less inclined to broad-brush all atheists.

The remaining three years were considerably less interesting. I'd revealed myself to whoever I had planned to so there wasn't that to deal with any more. Along the way, I went to see a boss several levels above me. The conversation swung in such a way that he said something about Jesus being the God of second chances. I just had to nod. (I think that my religious thought was perhaps well known. At some point, a transgendered friend said that it was probably more shocking that I became an atheist than he becoming a she.) Another boss, asked if I had seen the movie Expelled. I simply said that I had read some reviews and that the movie didn't seem like it would interest me. Largely, my work life in uneventful. There are some who had been my friends before and during my adventure. They've continued to be my friends. By and large, I keep my thoughts to myself. I just haven't felt that outspokenness on atheism wouldn't be advantageous to my career. I never had to think about that when I considered myself a Christian.

My attitudes have changed somewhat. Originally, I was just relieved for myself. Over time, I've felt a trend to disdain. This is something I don't like in myself. The positive thing, I suppose, is that my position has become clearer to me. I am increasingly convinced that religion is dangerous for mankind. I don't know what to do about that. I don't know that there is anything to do about that. Perhaps humans must simply grow out of it. Unfortunately, that terminology sounds a little condescending. I prefer to think that it merely sounds right. After all, one hopes that a thinking person holds the positions they do because they think they are right. And so, I hope that even those that disagree with me do so for careful consideration. Dumb opponents are more dangerous than intelligent ones—at least in philosophical discussions.

Nevertheless, how could I possibly consider myself superior. After all, it took 44 years for me to come to where I am and have been for four years. All people are different. I consider my spouse in all ways my intellectual equal and perhaps in some respects my superior. I don't imagine, though, that there will ever come a time in her life when she will allow herself to consider that god may not exist. We've been through some dramatic upheaval that I won't relate here. While for me that event just confirms god's non-existence—or at least his disinterest—for her, it is just another of those trials that serve to test one's faith and make us stronger. Some of my atheist friends have been atheist all their lives. Some became atheists at less than half my age of deconversion. If I had lived my life differently, if I, say, had become a missionary to China as my spouse and I once thought we might, perhaps that commitment would have overwhelmed my doubts and I'd be as dogmatic as any television preacher seems to be.

I don't miss prayer. I don't miss the idea of a god watching over me. I don't miss a sense of relying on a god who never answered my prayers anyway. Solutions in my life come as they always have, through my friends and family and, more rarely, my own ingenuity.

I do miss some friends. Friends are a weird thing. Those people I hung out with outside of church, at work or the pub, I still hang out with. Those that I knew through church, I hardly see anymore. That is disappointing. I considered them just as real as my other friends and perhaps they were. But when the your natural association is removed, it seems your friends disappear. I supose some of them would still call themselves my friends and I am honored by that. However, by a more rigorous definition, they are acquaintances. I've never been good at maintaining contact with friends after we've moved, which we've done a few times. So, there is a strong measure that out-of-sight-out-of-mind is how I operate. When I see those friends from church, it has some of the same awkwardness I described about attending church.

In the meantime, my kids don't really talk to me about my unbelief. Well, except as noted in a previous post where my daughter called to confess her imperfections, which of course was more about her than me. Also, my youngest expressed some concern that it was her fault which, of course, I told her it wasn't. Over four years, that ain't much. My spouse and I talk about it but mostly obliquely. If we talk about religion or ir-religion, we do so as disinterestedly as possible. That is, we avoid offending each other. All-in-all, I think that given that my personal stress levels are down from no longer having to solve all the worlds philosophical problems, I think I am a better father and husband even though my atheism is a sticking point.

So what will future years bring? Who knows. I have told people that it took 44 years to get to this point. It might take another 44 to come to some other conclusion. In all honestly, I don't think it is likely.

I think I have some goals along the lines of rereading some of my theology books and maybe even rereading the Bible. I would like to read more books about brain function and morality.

But all-in-all, I want to stay happy and maintain my integrity.