My atheism: A blend of disbelief and tolerance
I am an atheist. It took me years to discover this – years in which I devoted myself to a variety of religions, trying to find the One True Religion for Me. I finally realized that I just have too literal a mindset to take the existence of a Creator based on faith alone, and that seems to be something he always, in all religions, asks for.
I came to this conclusion, shrugged, and went on with my life. Sure, it hurt a little, and it was a minor personal crisis, but life goes on.
To this day I am surprised at the reactions I get when I tell people – in the United States, that is, as I don’t seem to have that reaction really anywhere else – that I do not believe in God. I am always polite but firm – I will not tolerate any attempts at conversion, but I do try to be polite on the front of faith.
I’ve had numerous people ask me why I insist on manners in my dealings with religious folk. These questions come from fellow atheists, and from people of faiths that are at odds with Christianity – as most people of other faiths don’t tend to care about my religious inclinations. I always answer that it’s none of my business, and I believe that firmly.
Religion, in my mind, is between you and your God. It’s not that I refuse to discuss religion. That’s not it at all. In fact, I find the whole concept fascinating on a totally cerebral level. The different things people are willing to believe simply because their God decreed it so is really an interesting subject, and I’m always willing to listen to people discuss it. I will not, however, be swayed in my decision.
Let me be clear. I do not, as so many people seem to believe, hate God. I don’t believe in God and it is hard to hate something you don’t believe in. I have no issue with him because I don’t think he exists. His followers sometimes annoy me but for the most part I’m benevolent about the idiosyncrasies of human beings as a whole, and I accept them as they are.
Sometimes I yearn to believe, and that’s something I’ll admit without conscience. I wish I could believe in something so faithfully, and know without a shadow of a doubt that there was a lovely place waiting for me after years and years of toil and suffering. I just can’t believe in that. I can’t. I can’t take anything based on faith alone.
I am always polite to people about religion. There are numerous reasons for that, the main one being that I don’t feel it’s my place to tell someone they’re wrong about something as personal and private as religion. I know several other atheists who were shaken to the core when they discovered that they didn’t believe, and I won’t ever put someone through that unwillingly. One has to come to that conclusion on their own, and shoving it down their throat will never help.
Religion, as many atheists like to point out, has done a whole lot of horrible things. People commit a lot of craziness and horror in the name of their Gods. But I am an eternal optimist and I try to look at the good that religion has brought into people’s lives. Organized charities are a part and parcel of most Christian churches, and they’ve taught people the good in giving to those less fortunate for millennia. Not only that, but the thought that there is an intangible, all-loving and all-seeing being in the sky looking out for us brings a whole lot of hope to good people in trying times. Just because I don’t believe in God doesn’t mean that I can’t see the value in hope, and I refuse to take that hope away from people just because I don’t agree with where it comes from.
There have been a lot of words exchanged with people of faith in the past. For the most part, they’ve agreed to a live and let live policy in regards to me. A great deal of them care for me and refuse to dislike me simply because we cannot see eye-to-eye on the concept of a creator. But sometimes people stare at me as if I’ve grown a second head. Many times, people are not only surprised, but offended, that I do not believe in God. Many more times I am the first atheist – or admitted atheist, anyway – that they’ve come into contact with and they’re surprised I’ve not grown horns and wings.
I think that this intolerance has a lot less to do with religion and a lot more to do with the human condition. We fear what is different, and we fear change, and we fear our opinions are wrong when we want to be right more than anything. I tire of my fellow atheists blaming religion for these things, when in actuality they are often guilty of the same thing.
It is why I’ve written this essay. I want people to understand that just because you do not believe in God doesn’t mean you should hate those who do. And to the religious types: I try to keep hate out of my eyes. Your God would expect the same. Please give me the respect I give you, and we can move on to becoming the greatest of friends.
Questions I have often been asked by non-atheists:
How can you have morality without God?
The same way everyone else on the planet does – from my parents and life experiences. My parents imparted to me what they felt was right and wrong, and I expanded upon that as I grew older. The difference between myself and religious people is that the only person I have to disappoint when I fail my moral code is myself, not God. God offers forgiveness. I do not.
What makes you so sure there is no God?
Well, now, any good atheist will tell you that there’s no way we can possibly be SURE, simply because science and the universe are constantly expanding what we know about them. I’m a human being, and I’ll admit that I can be and have been wrong in the past. I just really don’t think I am.
Why do you hate God?
As I stated before, I don’t hate God. It’s hard to hate someone you don’t believe exists.
As an atheist, isn’t Science your religion?
No. See, religion indicates one, spirituality, and two, faith. Neither of those things come into play with science. Science is proven over and over, in labs and in nature. It is also frequently disproven. But I’m an unusual atheist in that I don’t reason that God isn’t real because of science – just because I am not capable of believing.
Don’t you worry about hell?
Not particularly. Once again, hard to worry about something you don’t think exists. I disbelieve in God, and therefore, I also disbelieve in the devil.
Can I pray for you?
Sure, go for it. I really don’t mind, to be honest, because it’s your effort expended, and not mine. Now keep in mind that some atheists would be HORRIBLY offended if you asked to pray for them, so for the most part it’s just better to do your praying and not let anyone be the wiser.
How can you go through life, believing there is nothing afterward?
I strive to achieve happiness in this life, through personal growth and learning. If I am happy in this life, I need not worry about the next (considering I don’t believe in one).
Do you believe in Jesus?
I believe that there is a chance a man named Jesus (or more probably, Yeshua) may have existed, and possibly even around the time the Bible points out. As for his miracles, well… no, I really don’t. I also most certainly do not believe he was the Son of God.
Originally published: April 7, 2010.
