I awoke from a strange dream Easter morning. I was at a truck stop on a long journey, and I had very little money. I made several trips around the store looking in corners for change someone might have dropped, all the while trying not to appear that I was doing so. I had enough money for a soda, so paid for it and then left.
As I was about to get into my car, a man appeared behind me with a wad of cash. Within a few seconds (as can only happen in dreams) he and all of his friends had taken up a collection for me. He explained that they knew I had been looking for dropped change, and wanted to help. "We're Christians." he said.
I really needed the money, but told him that I couldn't accept it because I am not a believer. I felt that their goal in giving me the money was that they were hoping I would become a believer - that I would think this was a divine spirit looking after me and be overcome with emotion and fall into the comfort of that wonderful make-believe world where everything is all part of some divine plan that the feeble human mind is simply unable to understand, allowing me to take false comfort where there is none.
The next thing I know, I'm at a beautiful mountain range next to a guy in a pickup truck, who is apparently part of the same group of men from the truck stop. They are Masons.
The man was very handsome, and seemed to be infatuated with me. I really liked him, but felt very sad, because I knew it would never work since he was clearly very religious and I am not.
He was showing me his property, telling me all about what he owned, as if to say "this can all be yours if you'll just fall for me". I couldn't do it.
I awoke with an awareness of just how difficult it can be to stay true to your convictions in a world that does not accept reality, and insists that you are mistaken in your adherence to the facts... a world that seems to believe you are missing something very real that you can only see if you abandon logic and your mind's ability to override the primitive, fear-based instincts that have allowed the human race to survive for so long, yet now seem to be poised to destroy it.
The day seemed to fly by. I took dinner to a friend who was working and we went to see a movie afterward. I came home after midnight, and for the first time since the wee hours of Sunday morning, took a look at my FaceBook messages.
There at the top of the status updates page was a message from a dear person I went to school with, pleading for prayer for him and his family. His oldest son drowned yesterday while swimming in a lake.
I sent a message that I was so sorry to hear of this tragedy, and that I knew he would be in shock for some time, and that I wanted him to feel the love that I and all of his FaceBook friends have for him.
A request for prayer, I believe, is simply a request for moral support. I can give that without prayer, but either way, it doesn't lessen the pain. It might distract from it a bit, but it doesn't lessen it.
Another schoolmate, (or rather, a church-school mate), lost his son to a drug overdose last year. His ex-wife (Henry's mother - I've written about Henry on my blog before) is a FaceBook friend and frequently shares her struggles in dealing with his loss with us. The first year is the most difficult with any loss, and this Easter, she was struggling with the first Easter that she had been without her eldest son
I never had kids, at least not biologically, so it might be assumed by most that I couldn't possibly imagine the pain of what it would be like to lose a child. That's probably accurate. I have, however, experienced the loss of an almost-stepson, and it's something that many who know me don't know about.
When I was in my mid-20's I was dating a man who was 16 years older than me. He had two kids. His oldest, a son, was an extremely intelligent, talented young man. He could play the guitar, write poetry and song lyrics, compose music, and he was planning to go to culinary school to become a chef. In fact, he was already working at a resort as a cook.
He had enlisted in the military so he could earn some money for school, but before he ever set foot on a military base, he was struck by a drunk driver while riding his motorcycle home from work. He died at the scene.
He wasn't all that much younger than me, but I felt very maternal toward him. We had had many late-night conversations with him asking advice about everything from his girlfriends to his career aspirations and even his belief that he would die before he was 21. Sadly, he did.
When I lost my father, it was difficult. I was 15, he was a young 38. He had been very ill and the one stabilizing factor in my brother's and my life. It felt like the earth had dropped out from under my feet when I lost my dad, but I didn't burst into tears - his death was imminent and we had all known it for some time. It was the most painful thing I had experienced at the time, and I always thought there would never be anything more difficult. I was wrong.
When what I call my almost-stepson died, not only did it feel like the earth had dropped out from under my feet, but it also felt like both of my lungs had collapsed and my heart had exploded. Tears and sobs escaped from me involuntarily. There was no stifling them, no maintaining composure. Screaming and sobbing uncontrollably and feeling every bit of strength leave my body is all I remember. That, and calling someone I wish I had not called for comfort, as that person has never been able to offer any, but when you feel as though you're lost in outer space, floating further and further away from any level of functionality, you'll reach out to just about anyone to help you become somewhat grounded again. I suppose to that end it worked. Nothing grounds you like a cold-hearted response.
I became friendly with my almost step-son's mother. As painful as it was for me to lose him, I could only imagine how difficult it must have been for her to lose her firstborn, her son. If I could identify any one deciding factor in my decision not to have kids, this would have to have been it.
I have not had an easy life. So many things have taken place, from childhood to the present, that were simply out of my control and devastating. A few difficulties in my adult life were of my own making - that is to say, my inability to deal with certain situations created some unbelievably worse situations. But, for the most part, a large number of freak events (accidents caused by others, a fire, almost drowning, and a long list of other traumas out of my control one might find only in an adventure film) have occurred throughout my life, leaving me with a feeling of vulnerability to just about anything that could possibly go wrong.
I suppose on some level, despite the fact that so many seemed to think I would make an excellent mother, I felt the need to avoid motherhood in order to guarantee myself at least one devastating event in life: the loss of my child.
There aren't many things we can control in life. Natural disasters, man-made disasters, violent behavior from others, traffic accidents, illness... these things can happen to me, you, or those we care about. They can happen to anyone. But they can NOT happen to my children, because I don't have any.
My friends who have children would no doubt tell me that motherhood is so rewarding that it's worth any pain one might experience if the unthinkable were to happen - that the time you spent with your child would be so precious that it would always outweigh any pain you would experience if something were to happen to your child and they precede you in death. They're probably right, but I think I've earned the right to spare myself the possibility nonetheless.
I have one nephew. I have seen him in person only once: when my brother and his wife came to town for my grandmother's funeral. He's grown a lot since then, and while I wish I could see him more often, I console myself with the fact that it's probably best to keep my distance, something that is easy to do since I am both the black sheep of the family and a non-believer, and my nephew's parents are both very active in their church.
I have a lot of friends who have children and/or grandkids. They're crazy about their "Aunt Angie", and even though my friends are mostly religious here in the bible belt, they know that I would never interfere with how they want their kids to be brought up and/or taught when it comes to religion. I've gotten quite close to these kids, and I truly do think of them as nieces and nephews, but there are times when I feel myself worrying about what they are going to be exposed to at school (I worry less about those friends who home-school their kids) and I always, ALWAYS have in the back of my mind the fear that I am going to have to watch one of my friends deal with the pain of something happening to their kids, and experience the pain again myself of watching a young life ended much too soon.
Those who know me do not consider me to be a fearful person. I can be quite brave, bold even. (Perhaps even foolishly so at times.) But when it comes to losing young people in my life, I am an absolute coward, and I feel no shame for that. That's just how it is.
In real life, dead people don't wake up. Sure, you hear about "miracles" where a baby starts breathing again after being declared dead and the mother holding it for several hours. The truth is, the baby was never dead, just had an imperceptible heart rate and imperceptible breathing. There is no resurrection for innocent children or anyone else. There is no comfort in losing a young person.
That doesn't mean that losing an old person is less painful, just that you can at least console yourself with the fact that they had a long, productive life, the opportunity to experience a wide variety of what life has to offer, and an opportunity to share themselves with the world. Not so with a child or young adult just beginning their lives, full of possibilities never realized.
True, they'll never have to worry about being abused in a nursing home or losing their home in an economic crisis. No bankruptcies, prisons, divorce, no losing their own children. But the fact that they never had the opportunity to try their hand at life and beat the odds and lead happy, successful lives in a world that is not often friendly to those who live outside of the status quo, that is a devastating loss that no soul should ever have to bear.
I know, that same argument could be made for why those of us who have so much love to give should have children. To that I say: Save the joys of parenthood (and the sorrows) for those who haven't already used up their tolerance for emotional devastation. For me, the only guarantee in life - perhaps the only one besides death and taxes - the guarantee that I won't have to suffer the loss of my child... it sometimes feels as though it's all I've got left, and I'm holding onto it.
A.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Atheists and Religionists: Finding Common Ground
On April, 8 (this past Wednesday), I was a call-in guest on the Hallerin Hilton Hill morning radio show. I've been on the show twice before over the past decade, and even though I frequently disagree with H.H.H. (as we affectionately call him) on many issues, I respect his professionalism and his willingness to give those who disagree with him a chance to state their case.
The topic was the atheist clubs being proposed for after-school hours in public schools across the nation, and H.H.H. was taking the view that there is "too much politics in school and not enough learning" (I'm paraphrasing.) I agree, but when it's not during school, and after school instead, I don't know if that is relevant.
Furthermore, atheism is ABOUT learning... evaluating information intellectually and questioning things - learning to develop critical thinking skills. There may be too much politics in schools and not enough learning, but when there are kids who can recite lengthy passages from "The Holy Bible" chapter and verse, but who do not understand the scientific criteria and definition of a "theory" and why creationism doesn't qualify to be taught in science class, there's clearly too much religion in school as well.
There were so many callers who didn't seem to understand what atheism is really all about that I felt strongly about clearing the air. Atheism isn't about hating religious people or belittling them, it's not about rejecting morals or values. It's about THINKING, questioning that which we've been spoon-fed all of our lives, and evaluating information free of emotional manipulation or other attempts people often make to sway us to their way of thinking.
Atheists don't "know" that there is no god. That is not possible for anyone to know on an intellectual level. Period. Sure, religious folk say that they "know" there *is* a god, but they are referring to the emotion-based feelings they have on the matter, not to factual information.
Of course, I realize that the lack of proof is not proof of anything. This is why I don't say "there is no god". What I *do* say is that "I know that I do not believe there is a god". Now, when I say that I know we are all connected to one another in a very real way, some say I'm not really an atheist. When I say that I could be wrong and there may one day be proof that there is a god, others accuse me of being an agnostic, but that is not the case.
An agnostic is on the fence about whether they think there is a god or not. I am not. I am 100% certain that I do not believe there is a man up in the sky throwing down bolts of lightning on people who disobey him. And, if there were a god and he were the kind of asshole who would tell us he loves us but that he's going to throw us in a burning lake of fire if we piss him off, that god would not be worthy of my obedience or respect, even if he DID create me.
That kind of a god is LESS than human. NO human mother in her right mind would ever even consider throwing her child into a burning lake of fire for all eternity for being disobedient. Even if her child said he/she hated their mother and accused her of not really being their mother I can't imagine a mother doing that to her child. If she would, then she's a waste of human flesh.
But yet, we tolerate this kind of behavior from a god? I think I've made my point.
At any rate, I received many hateful e-mails and messages from some Christians who didn't like the fact that I had dared to speak out in favor of atheist clubs, since (especially in the bible belt where I live) it can be very difficult, if not downright dangerous, to be an atheist. I've received threats from Christians accusing me of being "the devil incarnate" and all kinds of nonsense. I don't know that one of these crazies isn't going to hunt me down the way some homophobes have hunted down and killed homosexuals. But I am still who I am, and I'm not about to pretend to believe when I don't for *any* reason.
Everyone who knows me well knows that I am a kind, compassionate person. I go out of my way much of the time to help others when I can, sometimes in small ways and other times in more significant ways. I don't usually talk about the things I do, because I have no reason to. I don't do things for others for praise, because I'm trying to stay out of hell, or because I want to get into heaven or impress anyone. I do them because I have love in my heart for my fellow humans. All of them. Even the ones who do awful things.
Sometimes, when I am caught doing good deeds, people say to me "That sure was nice of you. You must be a Christian." That makes me sad. It means that people really do believe that Christians have the monopoly on good behavior. (They do not.) It means that many people have no concept of the human's capability to do good within them, independent of any belief system.
Recently, I've reconnected with many of my old high school pals. I don't know of any of them who are atheists. Some of them are very devout Christians, a couple are even pastors. The last thing I want is for any of these dear people to think that I look down on them or feel intellectually superior to them. I do not. I know nothing more than they do. I simply require more evidence before I can believe in something that doesn't make sense to me, and they have something I lack: faith.
Faith is something that, even though it doesn't require evidence by definition, still is based on something more than just faith with regard to in *what* or which religion one has faith in, otherwise everyone would have faith in every religion, which doesn't make sense, since many religions are in direct opposition to one another.
I'll get more into religious discussions and details in later blog posts, but the main point of this blog post is that I think it's important to overcome the fear of rejection and not be afraid to be honest about what you believe and/or feel, even if that means some people will hate you and others will become distant and/or avoid you.
My father spent years in the closet, and only when he began to come out did he begin to truly feel alive. I have had to keep many secrets in my lifetime - whether about my father's sexuality or other family matters, work-related details from non-disclosure projects I've worked on over the years, or even secrets others have asked me to keep.
We all keep secrets. Some of them we truly need to keep. But those that require us to pretend to be someone we are not, to deny the very core of who we are and what we believe, are simply not healthy.
Unfortunately, some people are hurt by my lack of faith - they fear for me, pray for my salvation, and hope that I will one day come around if they keep praying. In fact, half of the town I live in is probably praying for me daily at this point. After I stated my case on the H.H.H. show, many people called in to the show and mentioned me by name, saying they "felt sorry" for me and were praying for me.
Many atheists I know are offended when others say they are praying for them or view it as a wasted effort. I, however, am always moved when someone says they are praying for me, because I know it is their way of letting me know they care about me. Even if I don't believe in the god they are praying to, I *do* believe there is power in the knowledge that someone cares enough about you to pray for you. That is very meaningful, and that alone can give us the strength to face whatever difficulties may lay ahead.
I may not "pray", but I think of others and wish them well, lend support by sharing words of encouragement, and offer assistance when appropriate. It really isn't necessary to pray for someone in order to show support, and for many, prayer becomes a substitute for doing what really needs to be done, like helping a terminally ill patient by bringing meals to the home while they are receiving chemotherapy and unable to cook, for example.
I've been fortunate enough to know MANY wonderful people who also happen to be Christians. They do *not* use prayer as a substitute for taking action, but as a supplementary way of showing they care. One of my classmates is an awesome photographer, and his church sponsors missionaries to travel overseas to places like Haiti and do missionary work. I'm proud to know him.
Another classmate, a pastor who is currently experiencing many health issues that prevent him from working, finds ways to encourage others via his blogs. I'm also proud to know him.
So many of us who have reconnected have found new friends in those we didn't know that well back in grade school, renewed old friendships, and discovered that old rivalries and those we may not have gotten along with way back when are wonderful people. Funny how the silly things of childhood melt away when you're 40-something and you are just happy to know that there are others who remember the music you loved back then. :-)
Many people are fond of saying "If more people were believers, we wouldn't have the problems we have today." I don't understand how believing what people wrote about thousands of years ago who had no idea where lightning comes from makes our problems go away. Faith, by itself, accomplishes nothing. Perhaps they mean that faith is what would cause people to behave in more loving ways, but again, that doesn't require faith. I'm not so cynical as to believe that the only way people have the capacity to do good is if they believe in something that tells them what they should and shouldn't do in order to avoid being thrown into a burning lake of fire without questioning it.
As I recently posted elsewhere among friends, my message to everyone (atheists and religionists alike) is:
Love is a behavior, not a word. It's not a religion, it's not a belief. It's a behavior. It's about how you treat other people. Period. If we all learned and practiced love, we wouldn't have the problems we have today.
Another classmate, and I have no idea whether he has religious views or not, recently posted on Facebook: "When I witness how supportive we all are of one another now, I wonder, 'Had we been this way 30 years ago, how happy and secure we might have been earlier in life and in turn all that we might have achieved.' Thanks everybody and keep up the good work!"
Indeed. Good work. No faith required.
A.
The topic was the atheist clubs being proposed for after-school hours in public schools across the nation, and H.H.H. was taking the view that there is "too much politics in school and not enough learning" (I'm paraphrasing.) I agree, but when it's not during school, and after school instead, I don't know if that is relevant.
Furthermore, atheism is ABOUT learning... evaluating information intellectually and questioning things - learning to develop critical thinking skills. There may be too much politics in schools and not enough learning, but when there are kids who can recite lengthy passages from "The Holy Bible" chapter and verse, but who do not understand the scientific criteria and definition of a "theory" and why creationism doesn't qualify to be taught in science class, there's clearly too much religion in school as well.
There were so many callers who didn't seem to understand what atheism is really all about that I felt strongly about clearing the air. Atheism isn't about hating religious people or belittling them, it's not about rejecting morals or values. It's about THINKING, questioning that which we've been spoon-fed all of our lives, and evaluating information free of emotional manipulation or other attempts people often make to sway us to their way of thinking.
Atheists don't "know" that there is no god. That is not possible for anyone to know on an intellectual level. Period. Sure, religious folk say that they "know" there *is* a god, but they are referring to the emotion-based feelings they have on the matter, not to factual information.
Of course, I realize that the lack of proof is not proof of anything. This is why I don't say "there is no god". What I *do* say is that "I know that I do not believe there is a god". Now, when I say that I know we are all connected to one another in a very real way, some say I'm not really an atheist. When I say that I could be wrong and there may one day be proof that there is a god, others accuse me of being an agnostic, but that is not the case.
An agnostic is on the fence about whether they think there is a god or not. I am not. I am 100% certain that I do not believe there is a man up in the sky throwing down bolts of lightning on people who disobey him. And, if there were a god and he were the kind of asshole who would tell us he loves us but that he's going to throw us in a burning lake of fire if we piss him off, that god would not be worthy of my obedience or respect, even if he DID create me.
That kind of a god is LESS than human. NO human mother in her right mind would ever even consider throwing her child into a burning lake of fire for all eternity for being disobedient. Even if her child said he/she hated their mother and accused her of not really being their mother I can't imagine a mother doing that to her child. If she would, then she's a waste of human flesh.
But yet, we tolerate this kind of behavior from a god? I think I've made my point.
At any rate, I received many hateful e-mails and messages from some Christians who didn't like the fact that I had dared to speak out in favor of atheist clubs, since (especially in the bible belt where I live) it can be very difficult, if not downright dangerous, to be an atheist. I've received threats from Christians accusing me of being "the devil incarnate" and all kinds of nonsense. I don't know that one of these crazies isn't going to hunt me down the way some homophobes have hunted down and killed homosexuals. But I am still who I am, and I'm not about to pretend to believe when I don't for *any* reason.
Everyone who knows me well knows that I am a kind, compassionate person. I go out of my way much of the time to help others when I can, sometimes in small ways and other times in more significant ways. I don't usually talk about the things I do, because I have no reason to. I don't do things for others for praise, because I'm trying to stay out of hell, or because I want to get into heaven or impress anyone. I do them because I have love in my heart for my fellow humans. All of them. Even the ones who do awful things.
Sometimes, when I am caught doing good deeds, people say to me "That sure was nice of you. You must be a Christian." That makes me sad. It means that people really do believe that Christians have the monopoly on good behavior. (They do not.) It means that many people have no concept of the human's capability to do good within them, independent of any belief system.
Recently, I've reconnected with many of my old high school pals. I don't know of any of them who are atheists. Some of them are very devout Christians, a couple are even pastors. The last thing I want is for any of these dear people to think that I look down on them or feel intellectually superior to them. I do not. I know nothing more than they do. I simply require more evidence before I can believe in something that doesn't make sense to me, and they have something I lack: faith.
Faith is something that, even though it doesn't require evidence by definition, still is based on something more than just faith with regard to in *what* or which religion one has faith in, otherwise everyone would have faith in every religion, which doesn't make sense, since many religions are in direct opposition to one another.
I'll get more into religious discussions and details in later blog posts, but the main point of this blog post is that I think it's important to overcome the fear of rejection and not be afraid to be honest about what you believe and/or feel, even if that means some people will hate you and others will become distant and/or avoid you.
My father spent years in the closet, and only when he began to come out did he begin to truly feel alive. I have had to keep many secrets in my lifetime - whether about my father's sexuality or other family matters, work-related details from non-disclosure projects I've worked on over the years, or even secrets others have asked me to keep.
We all keep secrets. Some of them we truly need to keep. But those that require us to pretend to be someone we are not, to deny the very core of who we are and what we believe, are simply not healthy.
Unfortunately, some people are hurt by my lack of faith - they fear for me, pray for my salvation, and hope that I will one day come around if they keep praying. In fact, half of the town I live in is probably praying for me daily at this point. After I stated my case on the H.H.H. show, many people called in to the show and mentioned me by name, saying they "felt sorry" for me and were praying for me.
Many atheists I know are offended when others say they are praying for them or view it as a wasted effort. I, however, am always moved when someone says they are praying for me, because I know it is their way of letting me know they care about me. Even if I don't believe in the god they are praying to, I *do* believe there is power in the knowledge that someone cares enough about you to pray for you. That is very meaningful, and that alone can give us the strength to face whatever difficulties may lay ahead.
I may not "pray", but I think of others and wish them well, lend support by sharing words of encouragement, and offer assistance when appropriate. It really isn't necessary to pray for someone in order to show support, and for many, prayer becomes a substitute for doing what really needs to be done, like helping a terminally ill patient by bringing meals to the home while they are receiving chemotherapy and unable to cook, for example.
I've been fortunate enough to know MANY wonderful people who also happen to be Christians. They do *not* use prayer as a substitute for taking action, but as a supplementary way of showing they care. One of my classmates is an awesome photographer, and his church sponsors missionaries to travel overseas to places like Haiti and do missionary work. I'm proud to know him.
Another classmate, a pastor who is currently experiencing many health issues that prevent him from working, finds ways to encourage others via his blogs. I'm also proud to know him.
So many of us who have reconnected have found new friends in those we didn't know that well back in grade school, renewed old friendships, and discovered that old rivalries and those we may not have gotten along with way back when are wonderful people. Funny how the silly things of childhood melt away when you're 40-something and you are just happy to know that there are others who remember the music you loved back then. :-)
Many people are fond of saying "If more people were believers, we wouldn't have the problems we have today." I don't understand how believing what people wrote about thousands of years ago who had no idea where lightning comes from makes our problems go away. Faith, by itself, accomplishes nothing. Perhaps they mean that faith is what would cause people to behave in more loving ways, but again, that doesn't require faith. I'm not so cynical as to believe that the only way people have the capacity to do good is if they believe in something that tells them what they should and shouldn't do in order to avoid being thrown into a burning lake of fire without questioning it.
As I recently posted elsewhere among friends, my message to everyone (atheists and religionists alike) is:
Love is a behavior, not a word. It's not a religion, it's not a belief. It's a behavior. It's about how you treat other people. Period. If we all learned and practiced love, we wouldn't have the problems we have today.
Another classmate, and I have no idea whether he has religious views or not, recently posted on Facebook: "When I witness how supportive we all are of one another now, I wonder, 'Had we been this way 30 years ago, how happy and secure we might have been earlier in life and in turn all that we might have achieved.' Thanks everybody and keep up the good work!"
Indeed. Good work. No faith required.
A.
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