My Fellow Atheists (And Religious Folks, Too)

*Knock knock!*
"Who's there?"
"Atheists who want to tell you the good news of atheism!"

... Said no atheist ever. Am I right?
Seems many atheists take pride in the fact there are no organized groups of door-knockers spreading the word of atheism, trying to convert others to their viewpoint. For me, as an atheist, I'm fine knowing others hold views that are wildly different from mine, provided they don't try to dump them on me, or try to convert me. Or, for that matter, force me to take part in those beliefs through legislative or judicial action.

This all seems like a pretty fair, reasonable set up, right? Most of us atheists just want to be left alone when it comes to religion, right? Live and let live, right? I'll assume you're nodding in agreement.

Well, I've noticed a bit of a problem recently. I've found myself privy to and taking part in conversations between atheists and believers where the atheist begins with the question "How can you believe in a book so full of contradictions?" You've probably heard that question asked, or asked it of believers yourself. Maybe it was "How can you live in a world where science provides nearly every convenience you use and not believe in evolution?" or "How can you believe in something so irrational yet profess to be a rational person?" or any line of questioning in that vein.
My fellow atheists, I pose a question to you: exactly what do you hope to gain from this line of questioning? There may be honest intellectual curiosity at the root of this questioning sometimes, but it seems to me that when an atheist begins this way, they're looking to finish the conversation with an attempt to demonstrate to the believer how ill-founded their faith is. Exactly who benefits from this type of conversation conversion attempt? Isn't that what it really is?

Are the beliefs (or lack thereof) of atheism superior to those of religion? Well, obviously atheists think so, otherwise they wouldn't be atheist. This can of course be reversed to describe anyone harboring any set of beliefs. But let me be clear: trying to persuade someone that their belief in god is wrong is both divisive and unnecessary. Frankly, it is the exact same thing many atheists, myself included, deplore from some of the more fundamentalist religions.

What should be understood is that there is not one belief system that provides everything to everyone. Atheists who were raised with religion, like myself, know that not everyone needs the same belief system to be whole. Instead of trying to demonstrate the folly of religious belief, we should instead believe that we have the answers for no one but ourselves. We may have struggled long and hard to break free from religious dogma and all the trouble it caused us, and maybe now we feel liberated, which is fantastic. We have indeed found a system of belief that is superior for us. What is it that should make us think our beliefs are superior for others?

Of course, this all depends on your beliefs. And let's be clear, atheists, some of us do harbor beliefs. Some believe that there should be no religion, that religion is purely a destructive agent, or that religious people are credulous fools and so on. But on what basis are we to assume every religious individual fits the mold of those extremists we see from Westboro, or those angry folks who scream about the president being a Muslim? Even if we saw a thousand different images of people like these in the media every day, there is still not sufficient evidence to conclude that these people are representative of the broader religious community. Assuming that all Christians are Tea Party extremists effectively destroys the experiences and uniqueness of each religious individual in your mind before you even meet them.

Why would we want to do this? What do we gain from this? It seems clear to me we've enough divisiveness and partisanship in our country and in the world. I think it's time we stop assuming boundaries into existence between ourselves and start engaging, really engaging, with people, regardless of their beliefs.

What say you?

Dive right in.

I can tell you the moment I lost my faith in God. It was one night I decided to go along with my family to Youth Group.

Well, call it a tipping point, as it didn't just occur in a flash of light, one moment I was a devout believer, next moment I was an atheist. Coming to terms with my atheism was a process which took years. Back then I would have called myself a Christian, albeit one who thought too much.

Back to the evening in question.
That night, the youth pastor had devoted the meeting to talking about atheism. I found it to be an interesting subject. I wasn't an especially devoted Christian, but I didn't understand how someone could simply not believe in God.
As the subject progressed, I started to feel uncomfortable, because the talk eventually and inevitably turned to the subject of damnation. How could it not, when the subject was atheism? Hell and damnation was the one part of Christianity I thought a lot about. I was terrified of this Hell, as anyone would be. But I spent a lot of time thinking about it. As I grew older,  I eventually found myself praying to Christ for forgiveness, not because I wanted to, and not because I loved God. I prayed because I was afraid of dying and spending eternity being tortured by evil spike tailed demons, chewing my bones, burning my flesh, all that nastiness. How could this kind of thing happen to anyone, what with God being so merciful and loving us?
Coming to his grand declaration, the pastor paused, looked around the room at all of us and said "Every atheist will die and will see God. They will say 'You are the real God!' And then they will be cast into Hell." And he really said it, just like that.

It caught me off guard. I knew full well that being atheist didn't make you a bad person. In fact, you can be a true humanitarian, donating to charities, feeding the hungry, helping children. But if you don't believe in God, it's hellfire for you.
Forever.
And ever.

It made me realize something. The Christianity that church taught was predicted in the idea that words speak louder than actions.

Yes, it did.

I tried to talk to some in my family later on. They argued with me, saying that anyone who had Christ in their heart would be good, naturally. I would say "Well, I don't have Christ in my heart. Am I good? Or am I going to Hell?" Sometimes, they'd say "Oh, you're going to Hell!" and laugh about it. But I didn't find it funny. Even though I had started really doubting Christianity, I was still terrified of burning in Hell.
Other times when I brought it up they would say "God really knows your heart, Zachary. You won't go to Hell." But I knew they didn't believe that. And I knew they were probably scared for me. Maybe even scared of me, a little bit.

You see, being good isn't enough. You have to beg, every day, for mercy. Christians don't call it begging. They call it praying. But that's what it was for me. Who knows if you really mean it? Well, apparently God would. But then, wouldn't God know you meant it if you spent your time helping people? Making the world a better place? Feeding the hungry, giving to the needy, not asking for anything in return? Evidently not, if you don't believe in him.

The God I was taught about is not merciful. Not loving, not caring, not helpful, not anything but a tyrant.

Mercy is not granting forgiveness to those who beg for it, whether they deserve it or not. Real mercy is forgiving those who deserve it and never even ask for it. And those who deserve it and don't ask for it know the truth; they don't NEED to ask for it.

I eventually got over the fear of hell. But it took years.

What really helped me was to realize that not only did I not need god, but perhaps more accurately, I need to not have god. You see, for me, there is no god. No man with a beard in the clouds granting love and mercy to mutually exclusive groups that hate each other one second, then turning an apathetic shoulder to an eternity of human suffering the next. 

I certainly don't begrudge believers their faith, as it harms me not at all. What others believe is their business (as long as they don't legislate it into some kind of forced adherence). 

At the end of the day, I'm not worried about a man who turned water into booze, or a guy who saw a plant catch on fire. I don't know what happened thousands of years ago. I wasn't there.

What I know is that I'm here. Right now. And there can be terrible things in life. But there is also love and beauty and grace.

And those things are quite good enough for me.