That Guy From China

This last week, I was talking with a fellow (quite a nice guy), and the topic of religion came up.  He’s a born-again Christian.  I’m an ex-Christian, atheist, and Humanist.  We talked and debated our beliefs, and for the most part it was quite amicable, but there was one part that really kinda’ pissed me off.  It’s a pet peeve of mine.  That is, whenever Christians realize that I’m an ex-Christian who’s rejected Christianity and become an atheist, the immediate response is A) “Why are you angry with God?” or B) “Why are you rebelling against God?”.

Now, I understand…I grew up indoctrinated to think that those who abandoned Christianity were doing so out of rebellion and/or anger (and if confronted with an atheist, I would have responded in the same manner).  And certainly, there are plenty of ex-Christians who are quite angry at their previous religion (often for very justifiable reasons).  But this automatic assumption that it must be an emotional or personal reaction against something in Christianity really irks me.

I have tried in the past to explain this, but have generally not done a very good job.  However, after my discussion with him, while thinking about this, I came up with what I thought was a very good illustration of my ‘conversion’ to atheism (or my rejection of Christianity, however you want to look at it).

Think of a mother and her son.  She loves her son dearly, and always believes the best of him.  Then, one day, her son is arrested and charged with murder.  He tells her that he’s innocent, and she believes him whole-heartedly.  But, as more and more evidence is presented, and the situation becomes clearer and clearer, she comes to the realization that her son is guilty.  She doesn’t want to believe that; it causes her great distress, and she tries her best to find evidence of his innocence.  However, in the end, regardless of her personal feelings, regardless of her personal wishes, regardless of her personal comfort…she must acknowledge that her son is guilty.

Nobody would accuse her of thinking her son guilty because she was angry with him, or she was rebelling against him.  It would plainly be a ludicrous accusation.

Well, the road to atheism was the same for me.  I was a devout, born-again Christian.  I went to Bible college to learn more about my faith, and why Christians believe what they believe.  However, as I studied the Bible, and church history, and theology, I started having more and more questions.  Inconsistencies, self-contradictions, logical fallacies, and a whole plethora of other evidence that indicated that there were problems with my beliefs.  I delved deeper, not because I wanted to prove my beliefs wrong, but because I wanted to find a way to explain or counterbalance what I had found.  But the deeper I looked, the worse the problem became.  I could easily be a Christian so long as I didn’t understand it much, or if I was willing to turn a blind eye to numerous problems and questions (under the rubric of “you’ve got to have faith”).

But if I were to face the evidence directly, and honestly, the only conclusion I could draw was that Christian beliefs made no sense, and were not justifiable.  Further examination of other religions led me to a similar conclusion.  And thus, reluctantly, I became an atheist.

And before someone chimes in and says, “But you’re still rebelling against God”  — a timeworn Christian cliché based on the belief that rejection of God automatically translates to rebellion — while I understand your perspective, mine is quite different.  I once believed in Santa Claus, but I no longer do.  I once believed in the tooth fairy, but I no longer do.  I once believed in the Easter Bunny, but I no longer do.  The fact that I no longer believe in Santa/tooth fairy/Easter Bunny doesn’t mean that I’ve rebelled against Santa/tooth fairy/Easter Bunny.  In fact, I’d argue that it is logically impossible to rebel against something that you don’t believe exists in the first place.

Oh, and one more thing.  My initial reluctance to abandon my Christian faith should not be mistaken for a desire or wish to return to that faith.  Having rejected it, not only do I find that the world (and my life) makes much more sense, but I am happier and more fulfilled.  Today, I look back at my past beliefs in amazement at some of the stuff that I actually swallowed, and the intellectual gymnastics I had to engage in on a regular basis in order to try to reconcile my beliefs with the real world.