"Coming Out" as an Atheist to My Mother

Two days before my 37th birthday, my mother confronted me about my beliefs. I didn't handle it well. She had been drinking and had herself worked up about my son and my unwillingness to have him baptized as a Roman Catholic. She said things that hurt me gravely, and I returned the volley. I had always envisioned taking the high road if and when this topic arose. Boy did I blow it. Now my mother and her husband barely speak a courteous word to me. They incorrectly blame my wife for my atheism. My relationship with my mother is, to borrow from Yates, changed utterly. A terrible beauty has been born in that I am now free from religious obligation - or at least going through the motions to appease my family - but at steep cost.

Since this confrontation, I've been writing down some notes with the intent of maybe sending a letter to my mother. I doubt I'll ever send it to her - she's in her mid-seventies and her faith is the centerpiece of her life. At the very least this has afforded me the opportunity to jot down my thoughts on religion. You'll see some concepts that I've borrowed from Dawkins and Harris and Hitchens and the like, and hopefully you'll gain a glimpse of how I synthsize their ideas into my own notion of how religions come about. Just be clear that though I haven't gone through the rigor of footnoting those fine authors, without them my own thoughts would be far less articulate.

Again, these are loosely gathered notes so please excuse any incongruities.

_________
January, 2010
Worcester, MA.

To _____

You are upset that I refuse to allow my son to be baptized. This is not surprising, given your faith, but that is a faith I do not share. It is a decision that I have come to through 20 years of introspection, research, reading, and contemplation. It is rooted in rationality. My conclusion is that not only is religion – in any form – absurd, it is detrimental in that it blinds us to our place in this world and provides false hope of something greater than the world as we know it. It uses fear and ignorance to perpetuate its absurdities. It’s a lie – a deceitful means by which knowledge is parsed out to the initiated in order to keep the masses subjugated. It’s the biggest scam humanity has ever perpetrated. I have opted out.

Religion is an impediment to understanding. It offers easy “answers” to complex questions. It relies on the simple minded to parrot its dogma. We don’t get to choose our religion – we are indoctrinated by our parents, whose authority and power over us are absolute. Our first exposure to the concept of god is typically negative – as if some invisible babysitter is keeping tabs on our transgressions. Morality clearly doesn’t stem from religion, as evidenced by the countless millions subjected to horrific cruelty in its name, even to this day, as well as the daily actions of self-professed adherents. Besides, the morality espoused by religion is largely plagiarized.

Speaking of plagiarism, how convenient it is that the holidays of Christmas and Easter coincide exactly with pagan rites. It should be obvious that Christmas is the Christian appropriation of Yule, the ancient Norse solstice festival, and of the Roman Saturnalia (we still festoon trees and hold feasts of the sacred and profane like the Christmas turkey, the exchange of gifts, and the New Year’s Eve bacchanal). Likewise, Easter is the Christian appropriation of pagan fertility festivals (we still revere the rabbit for its ability to multiply and we use eggs to symbolize the rejuvenation of the earth – hence why Easter eggs are hidden for children). The Roman pantheon, to whose diverse gods one would pray for intercession into daily troubles, is alive and well. Saints have taken on the characteristics of local or specialized gods and goddesses. You may pray to St. Anthony of Padua while searching for misplaced items, while the ancient Greeks would have prayed to Pan for the same reason. Saint Theresa of Avila is the patron saint of headaches, just like Zeus was for the Greeks. And in praying to a saint, just how is that monotheism?

...

The lens of history affords a view of how religions came about. My examination has led me to what I consider an obvious conclusion. Religion is man-made. In simple terms, here is how I think it came about.

We are creatures of our environment, just like every other living thing on this planet. We have evolved strategies, both biologically and behaviorally, to cope with a challenging world. What wonders our ancestors must have experienced as they first examined this place! While the first of them undoubtedly learned the ebb and flow of natural cycles, they yearned to understand why things happen. Unfortunately for them, daily needs of survival obviated the opportunity for such inquiry. Generations passed before primitive cultures could spare resources to tend to the young, old, and infirm. But knowledge amassed over a lifetime has value, and our ancestors learned to assume the risks of caring for elders in order to benefit from their experience. Elders possessed a commodity: knowledge drawn from experience of things in the world and an ability to use that knowledge to interpret - or even to predict - events.

An elder may not have been able to put food on the table, but he could counsel the group about where to find it based on experience. A matriarch could share wisdom about rearing children or gathering foodstuffs long after her ability to breed or forage had passed. Over time, our elders learned to specialize in knowledge – some were once great hunters who knew the habits of their quarry and could advise on where to seek it, others had been staunch defenders of the group against hostile neighbors and could oversee defenses, still more were adept at instructing the young in the customs of the group, preserving its sense of identity. The group benefitted from the knowledge and experience of its elders.

Agriculture solved many of the basic survival problems, but spawned challenges of its own. People were living in larger groups and had the luxury to ask questions. Why wouldn’t the crops grow? Why did the neighboring village invade? Just what are these large bones that we find in the ground? An enterprising person may have offered a guess, at first. The crops failed because we did something wicked to upset the spirits. The neighbors invaded because they are evil. The bones are those of giants or dragons or minotaurs. If the explanations seemed plausible enough, this person found himself (in a patriarchal group, anyways) in possession of something akin to a meal ticket. His pronouncements became his currency. His specialized knowledge afforded him a position of influence over the group. His status was elevated because of it. In time the enterprising person codified his pronouncements, and a religion was born.

The recent examples of Mormonism (dreamed up by Joseph Smith in the 1830s) and Scientology (cobbled together by science fiction writer L. Ron Hubbard and a team of lawyers in 1952) are clear evidence that religions are man-made. Indeed, Joseph Smith and Ron Hubbard’s creations may be the exceptions in that they persist to this day in relatively benign fashion. Jonestown, the Branch Davidians, and Heaven’s Gate are recent groups that have shown the more sinister extreme. Each of these religions was created by a man, and each of the men profited handsomely – both in terms of material wealth and in terms of their elevated status. And people believe them (according to Wikipedia, 13 million people worldwide believe in Mormonism and some 8 million believe in Scientology). As P.T. Barnum quipped, suckers are easy enough to find and even easier to fleece. That the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and Scientology are contrived religions that are man-made should be obvious even to the most devout Catholic. I’m just taking the next step, extending the contrivance to all religions.

...

Religion started as a scam. And like those we still read about today, the scam only works when its marks are kept in the dark. Only the initiated can access the “true” interpretation. As religious texts appeared, their contents were only accessible to the literate. As literacy became more commonplace, the scammers resorted to using dead languages – Hebrew and Latin – to prevent the common folk from penetrating the veil. Like the travelers before Oz, the subjugated need to be told what to think and must be discouraged from thinking for themselves, or else the scam may be revealed. This is still evident in at least one of the three Abrahamic religions today. The Koran is recited only in Arabic. Translations are deemed inauthentic. The very center of Islam, Mecca, is off limits to non-believers. What’s the big secret?

...

Blind faith is considered virtuous. The crime of heresy was invented to punish those who dared to think things contrary to the dogma. Orwell nailed it with the concept of “thoughtcrime” in 1984. Apostasy – the grave offense of abandoning a religion – was once punishable by the sword (and still is under Sharia, the Islamic law). Why do you suppose that religious authorities are so preoccupied with the private thoughts of practitioners? Why is it so important to place faith above knowledge? Those who question or disobey are rubbed out.

Religion is insecure. It relies on unquestioning, unthinking devotion. If salvation is the carrot, then fear of eternal punishment is the stick. Fear and cruelty are close cousins, as evidenced by the horrific implements employed by the Inquisition, for example, or the heinous punishments the Koran requires for heretics, apostates, and unbelievers.

It is no coincidence that the greater one’s attained level of education, the lower the incidence of religious belief. Once we learn to think for ourselves, the veil is lifted. We can see religion for what it really is: a system of mind control employed by humans to subjugate other humans.

...

If religion is not an outright scam, it certainly is a hegemony. The elite wield ultimate power over their subjects. Don’t think so? What greater power exists than the power over one’s soul? If one believes that something greater than this life awaits us – but only if we’re good adherents to our flavor of religion – then all earthly torments are transient. The reward of the hereafter is what we’re really living for. If that’s the case, why not get it over with? Why not snuff it, like so many young Muslims have done by strapping explosives to themselves or flying airplanes into buildings?

If, instead, we see the light that religion is man-made perhaps we can learn to value our time here. Death is a certainty. No one has returned from the dirt nap. It is our fear of death and the fear of the unknown that blinds us to the joys and wonders of this life. Some charlatan claims to have the answer – behave this way, believe this set of humbug, do not eat this sort of food, look in this direction when you pray – and we’re either lazy enough or gullible enough to buy it. The result is a perversion of how we live.

By rejecting religion, I affirm that this life is all I have. It is therefore imperative for me to live my life to the fullest, to relish the time I have. Suicide is patently absurd - I won't get a second chance on this ride. My world view is wholly life-affirming. Curiosity and inquiry are unburdened and unrestricted by artificial constraints. I am free to be alive, unbridled by artificial guilt and fears about the hereafter. This is my paradise.

...

It is my contention that religion was created by man to serve man’s purposes. It served its purpose for a time, was bastardized by the power-hungry, and is now obsolete. Religion has nothing new to offer, and increasingly it is clear that science does. Imagine the advancements that could have been achieved had religion not intervened. From Galileo to Spinoza to Newton to Darwin to Einstein, religion has been an impediment to knowledge and understanding of our world and our place in it. I think it’s time to move on.

...

I imagine that Pascal’s Wager has come to mind by now. That’s the argument that asks, even if you don’t think it’s plausible that gods exist, wouldn’t you be better off believing they do just in case? Nobody has ever come back from the grave. We are creatures of nature, bound by nature’s rules. Whether some being created nature is irrelevant. It has no bearing on my existence. Moreover, even if I were to assume that some supernatural consciousness was behind nature, it would be the height of vanity for me to think that such a vastly superior being would take an active interest in my mundane affairs. It would be akin to me intervening in the existence of an electron because of the electron’s private thoughts.

Perhaps our universe is just a bubble in the bathtub of some vastly large being. Maybe we’re living inside a molecule of a single-celled organism. Does that mean that I can expect my prayers to be answered by the organism? Wouldn’t I be better off to cherish my life regardless?

Then there’s the question of which religion is right. They all claim to be the true path, but that can’t be the case, now, can it? You see, everyone is skeptical about religion. You don’t believe that winter is caused by Demeter’s daughter, Persephone, returning to the underworld each year to spend her required time with Hades, do you? Yet millions of people, for a time, believed just that. Do you believe that warriors killed in battle are transported to Valhalla by Valkyries? Why don’t you follow the Koran? Do you think what happened to Lot’s wife was just? All she did was sneak a peek at a conflagration. Who wouldn’t be awestruck by the destruction of a city? Which of the Gospels is true? If they all are true, then how do you explain the differences between them? Was Jesus really the descendent of King David (ROM 1:3)? I thought he was supposed to have been born of a virgin (ergo, just where does this “seed of David” come from then?). Seems much more likely that whoever wrote Romans was trying to fulfill an Old Testament prophesy, retrospectively of course. It’s sort of like P.D. James trying to tie up the loose ends of one of her detective stories.

...

I debated going through the motions, having my son baptized simply to avoid conflict. But then I got to thinking about the grief and shame and guilt that religion caused me, from my youth, through adolescence, and even now. This very quarrel between us is because of religion. Just about the only redeeming quality that comes to mind is the beautiful music created for religion’s sake. And I can still listen to that and appreciate it without belief.

...

At no time in my life was the scam more evident than during that ridiculous retreat I was required to attend prior to my Confirmation. It had all the marks of cultism. We were deprived of possessions (watches, music players, books) and sleep, given only small meals, and were encouraged to participate in emotional role play. I was an insecure teenager who took it for granted that this was good for me. I bought it all. I had been brainwashed. In retrospect it didn’t take very long to learn that I had been scammed. Within a year I had figured that out. But I had to figure it out for myself.

See, I wasn’t given a choice about religion. It was clear to me that there would be hell to pay if I declared my skepticism while still dependent on you and dad. I was indoctrinated before I could think for myself. I trusted that what I was being told was true and good. I had faith but no perspective. Now that I’ve gained a modicum of perspective I find no need for faith.

I am grateful beyond expression for the education you and dad provided for me and for the sacrifices you both made for me to succeed. I hope that I can come close to doing the same for my son. But what I learned most in college was to think for myself. And hopefully, as you can see, I have done just that. Is it better to pretend to believe something you hold to be untrue, or is it better to be true to yourself? I have chosen the latter. And I’m content.

...

But what about morality, you may ask. Surely, religious indoctrination does provide a scaffold for ethical teaching. Yet the real basis for our modern ethics is rooted in the ancient Greeks, who formed the essence of our moral code centuries before Christianity. We are social creatures. As such we need ways to balance our innate self-interest with the interests of the group (and the group’s interests with those of other groups, etc.). Ethics is how we codify the balancing of these interests. For groups to live together peacefully it is natural to codify morality. Religion has nothing to do with it. I don’t steal from my neighbor because I have a contract with him not to do so, and vice-versa. It doesn’t have to be written down, it’s understood. And it’s not because I think some omniscient being is peering over my shoulder, tallying my transgressions for some future reckoning. Morality existed long before our religions, and will continue to exist long after. It’s a simple fact of being social beings that we rely on each other to uphold certain moral standards.

As for my own ethics, I’ll not bore you with a lengthy exposition. I strive to treat others how I would like to be treated. I try to be kind to others. What makes others happy is not my concern, provided no harm results. I mind my own business. I don’t busy myself with what others think or how they live their lives unless directly confronted by such things. I believe people are responsible for their actions and for the consequences of those actions. I am not my brother’s keeper, but I am willing to lend a hand if asked (there is a big difference between promoting the general welfare and providing it). My main goal as a parent is to use my own sense of perspective, attained through experience, to guide the choices of my son in his pursuit of happiness. I hope to remain curious about the world and my place in it.

_____

FWIW - KilgoreTrout