Today a friend linked me to an old Greta Christina blog entry about atheists and anger , as well as to her later response to commenters. Both are great empathy reads - excellent for atheists who have experienced the things she describes as well as for people with theistic beliefs who might benefit from a deeper understanding of their atheist friends and neighbors. Discussion of the blog entries led to a disagreement between myself (trying to keep an open definition of what atheists are like as a group) and a theistic friend (who wanted to assign me to one of two categories that he has defined based on his experiences). He was frustrated with me, and I with him. The discussion took place on Facebook. He ended up unfriending me.
Later that evening, I came across two rosaries, both obtained during my teens. One was from a friend's trip to Rome and the other, I think, was given to me by a member of my church. I showed them to Griffin, told him what the beads represent, recited some of the prayers. I reflected on how his relationship with religion will, inevitably, be different from mine. I considered again how to separate the wheat from the chaff, wondered how well I'm doing.
Three years ago I found myself at a point where, in order to be honest with myself, I had to come to the realization that I had been a skeptic since early childhood, and an agnostic in matters of theology since my late teens. Realizing this about myself meant letting go of certain labels, among them "Catholic." A person who is nonbelieving and nonpracticing really is not a Catholic, except in a purely cultural sense. Letting go of that bit of identity was difficult but necessary. It was not a choice, it was an acceptance of reality.
Later, I came to realize that in truth, my beliefs were atheistic in nature. By this, I mean atheistic in the literal sense: without a god or gods. (I point this out because typically, people think of atheism as being against gods/religion, rather than simply without them.)
I don't think that belief or nonbelief are active choices. You can be born with a more or less inquisitive nature, you may have been exposed to some teachings more than others. You can ask questions, you can seek information, but at the end of the day, after you have considered everything before you, after you have filtered it through your own temperamental tendencies and your learned methodologies and biases, you either do or don't find the data compelling. You either believe, or you don't.
This has been freeing, and enlightening, and marvelous in many ways, but it also brings a great many problems large and small. My conundrums include:
:: How does one raise children literate in religious history and tradition without being a part of a particular religious creed? (Even religious persons need to consider this for faiths beside their own; my own upbringing focused heavily on "us" and very little on "them.")
:: How can I be honest about who I am without causing offense? When is it appropriate to share that I am a nonbeliever? It is easy to "pass" when one is a member of this particular minority. When is passing ok, and when should I correct the person who assumes I am a part of the majority? How "out" and how "proud" should I be?
:: What do I teach my children about death? I had never before considered talking about death without mention of heaven. Where do you find comfort when you don't believe in an afterlife?
:: When people assume that lack of belief equals hopelessness, how do I explain to them that this could not be farther from the truth? How do I help people see that atheism and awe can and do go together?
:: What do I do with the religious relics of my youth? How much respect do you give an item that is no longer sacred to you, but is sacred to others? Do you keep it as a trinket? Do you give it away? Do you allow your child to wear it around his neck? Do you put it in a box to Good Will?
:: How do I allay the fears of people who worry about my godlessness? Is it even possible?
:: How do I confront religious indoctrination of children in the schools, when most people are religious and don't understand the concerns a religious minority might have?
:: How does one teach an understanding of religious belief? Can one understand belief without ever experiencing it?
I am not lost when it comes to all of these questions; I have confronted them and have found satisfactory solutions for many of them. Some of them return, though, and new conundrums arise. I am navigating seas for which I was never given a chart, on a voyage that most people think I should not undertake. I did not choose my course, though, so all I can do is meet the questions as they come.
PS: for any humanist/atheist parents out there, I highly recommend the book and website Parenting Beyond Belief and author Dale McGowan's blog The Meming of Life.