Atheists are people, too. I just want to share my story, or journey, into becoming an “agnostic atheist” because I’m tired of people asking me why I believe what I believe and never hearing what I say. Many Christians have asked me why I am an atheist and instead of listening, they are pondering their next moves to conversion. Not all, of course. There have been many who converse with me about it and I learn plenty about the other person and they respect my beliefs much as I respect theirs, but on the other end and unfortunately the larger end, there are those who upon hearing you are “godless” and a “heathen ( as I have been referred to as once )” that only plot to convert you and never really listen. These people also have some interesting connotations to why atheists become atheists, one in which I will share.
Atheism is a rather broad topic with varying degrees of belief. There is several different theories that attempt to satisfy the range because atheism has changed vastly over the course of history. At one point it was a term use to describe “godlessness” or those who worshipped goddesses or gods. It was a term used to those who were in conflict with their belief in God. Mostly, throughout time, it has been used as an insult. In fact, even today some do not feel comfortable coming out in their non-belief merely because they feel judged and frequently are.
I grew up going to an Apostolic church until I was 5. I hated it and absolutely abhorred going. When my mom stopped going, my sister who was 10 years older frequently forced me along. The rules of our church were ones that struck out against women. Women were to wear skirts, women were not to cut their hair, women were to be obedient to their man as God desired. Eventually my sister stopped going and I was set from those chains. I was able to wear jeans and act like the tomboy I was as I had two older brothers whom I had to protect myself from.
However, to fit in, I eventually started going to the First Church of God with a close friend until I was 10. I never believed in God, but I felt a part of something when I was in the atmosphere. I liked the values that were taught, too, even if I didn’t see them being exercised. It was like one big story — and I love stories.
It was about this age, however, that I started to really listen to what the preacher was saying. Sinners being cast into the fiery pits of hell, how God does everything for a reason, disobey him and you go to hell, all of the things he had done to those who would not believe in him and his overall malevolence. Then it occurred to me that this didn’t quite pair up with the benevolent God that was portrayed. The one who forgave all for their sins, who loved us, and wanted the best for us. The one who would love us even if we did not believe, but would condemn us to hell no matter how good of a person we were if we did not believe. I started to realize none of it quite made sense. The entire thing was a contradiction and the more I learned, the more hypocrisy and contradictions I was faced with.
( Side note: I’ve met way too many Christians who are are not bad people, but they aren’t — per say, a great example of humanity. Yet, Gandhi goes to hell and they go to heaven? )
As a result I opted to not continue going. Growing up and seeing all of the contradictions in people’s behavior only furthered my belief that religion was exactly why I had wanted to be a part of it when I was a child — a place for people to gather and be social. A way for them to be a part of a group and to cope with the unanswerable questions; such as life after death.
Let me say now I do not believe it’s wrong to be Christian. That would be falling under the same hypocrisy as I have fallen under many times. I think that as long as what you believe infringes on no one else’s bodily integrity, then believe away. The fact that I must necessarily put this disclaimer in my story should raise questions, though. However, as an atheist, I have been required to step softly around those who believe in God because they believe so fiercely, that it is easy to anger them and then nothing is ever achieved in learning from one another, if it is possible in the first place.
Fast forward to year 16. It’s the time I finally started calling myself an atheist. I told my mother, who, despite never being overly religious and being nondenominational, exposed me to my first education on how Christians think, she said; “You are going to hell.” Those infamous words that any atheist is intimately familiar with. You don’t believe, you will be punished and not just any punishment, eternal damnation in your next life.
First, I am surprised many Christians do not understand why this phrase is so disrespectful. I would like to clear that up right now and if you are Christian and you read this, then perhaps you will refrain from saying it again. When I alert to you that I do not believe in God and your way of responding is, “You’re going to hell,” think of that in the way I just explained. You are saying that my belief is wrong. You are outwardly acknowledging that there is no way I can be right and that your belief is superior to mine and your belief is right and in your belief, heathens like myself, go to hell. How is that not offensive? It’s like if you told me you are Anti-Choice and I went, “Oh … WELL YOU’RE WRONG!” You wouldn’t want to discuss or talk with me after that. You would also probably get very angry. Yet, I’ve had friends wonder why I feel so disrespected by such a comment. I feel even more disrespected when a person adds on, “I’ll pray for you.” That is like the icing on top of a cake. You’ll pray that I will find the right answer, your answer, and that I will remove myself from the errors of my way. You pray for people who need help — my belief sets me in this category? A needy category?
I moved through HS as a semi-outcast. Sure I had friends, but I was the “baby killer” and the “atheist” and the “femi-nazi” and the “liberal”; while I found humor in at first, when my opinions started to be talked over and ignored and then those words uttered to justify it, it became hurtful. I felt like I was wrong and yet intrinsically I felt that that was just not so. There was something in me that knew that banning abortion was wrong. That allowing the government to control someone’s body was a dangerous step. I was a radical even though on the political spectrum I am not radical at all. I believe women are equal, I believe abortion should be allowed ( not that everyone should have an abortion .. I’m Pro-Choice, not Pro-Abortion ), I believe no God exists, though I cannot deny the existence or non-existence of one, I believe everyone is equal and that not allowing marriage between homosexuals is saying they are not full citizens, and I believe women are equal and when when there were guys in my class, one specifically, who made women jokes repeatedly to the point where you realized he was only half joking, I spoke up.
It was during this time that attempt to convert me were also made and are still made. I remember one instance very well where a friend of mine who had a good heart, but was a Christian, would ask me to come to church with him. I respectfully declined each time and finally asked, “Why would I want to get up early to listen to a preacher preach about something I do not believe in?” His response was that, “Well, it’s fun, and the preacher does not really preach …” These attempts, though harmless, are rather annoying. I told you I don’t believe, so please, spare me the conversion. I’m open to talking about it, but I will not be tricked into going to a church.
I finally went to College and left that behind. Left all the people who would not even bother to take into consideration what I was saying and unfortunately their lack of ability to listen created the same thing in myself. I found that I needed to be strong in what I believed to stand against them and that put me on the other spectrum, where I would not listen to what they had to say. I was too busy protecting myself.
I finally got to college, though. Sweet, glorious college. I am from the mid west, in case I did not mention this, in a state that has been going red since 1962. Except for this year — this year, 46 years later, it went blue for the first time since. I moved into an area which was liberal. I was a part of a community which was liberal. I could stand at ease that I was not going to be attacked for what I believed and could relax and listen to those who are now in the reverse situation. The conversion attempts stopped, for the most part, although there was this one fellow who was rather persistent on letting me know he was going to pray for me and that Jesus was all that was good and right and so forth until I finally got irritated after repeated attempts to get him to stop and just ignored him. I’m still here and I love it, I love being able to be myself without being under constant scrutiny.
In retrospect, after hearing other stories, I realize that I have not had it as hard as many others. I haven’t been disowned by my family, grounded for months at a time, and forced to go to church against my will. I haven’t been kicked out of my house, or forced to read the bible. However, the fact these things happen is terrifying. All over a belief, all over something that is unproven. God is not like air. We know air exists because even though we cannot see it with the human eye, there is a molecule that can be examined to confirm its existence. God may exist or he may not, but I do not know and I choose the road of non-belief until Its existence is proven.
Why are atheists so despised? Why is the view of us a negative one? Why do people think I have no morals? Why do people think having a religion would suddenly make me have morals? My morals lay in society and within myself. My own observations. I would never infringe on them and I don’t need the threat of hell or punishment to keep myself from doing them. It’s intrinsic and was instilled in me by my parents.
Why do some people believe that to become an atheist I must have had some terrible or tragic experience? My freshman year of college I heard this. My roommates mother said it as if it were fact to her daughter. “Well, most people who are atheists have had something bad happen to them that makes them that way.” Really? Is that what happened to me? An experience so tragic, my immediate resolve was to flush God from my life? What about those who go the opposite direction and such events strengthens their faith? Do those who believe in God only believe in him because they’ve had something tragic happen to them?
And finally, I leave off with this final line — atheists are not devil worshipers, we don’t believe a devil exists.
Posted by Courtney 
Posted by Courtney 