Monthly Archives: October 2013

I just need to ask a couple of things and make a couple of observations.  Maybe there are answers, maybe not – but at least I’m putting it out there. (Writing about something has always been a part of any process for me)

I am very new to this, but I’ve felt it brewing, just below the surface for a while. When things don’t add up, they don’t add up.

Now, l will never presume to know a lot or anything for that matter, but how can a loving god (and I’m loathed to use this term in any form) allow the things that he does? I don’t want to elaborate on this too much – turn on the news and open a newspaper, you’ll get the idea.  Besides, it makes me so incredibly sad to see images of starving children, raped woman, families displaced by war, people killed while they do shopping (all in the name of god) and so on. What made me so special? Why is god protecting me and saving me from those circumstances? I don’t the need help. Those children do…

In saying and feeling that, the clutches of religion are strong and I continued to lead a good life, like a good Christian should, until I met my boyfriend. He is Muslim.

You know the story and how it goes from here.  I converted to Islam around 4 years ago. All those feelings are still there, but pushed way down because… love of course!

Now, most of you will probably know this, but Muslims have a day/night of prayers where all your sins are forgiven.  Really.  Anything you might have done, gone? During Ramadan (fasting) the devil is apparently locked up and all the sins you commit is because of your own sinful nature? If you do not pray in exactly the right way – sequence and in Arabic and facing the right way, your prayers will not be accepted.

I have not told him about my new orientation.  I don’t know how.  (Granted, we don’t live in a place where I will be killed for making the above statements and I have always referred to him as “Muslim-light” due to his lack of commitment to ‘standard Islamic rules’) But it will probably be the end of it when i do.  I sort of touched the subject a few nights ago (just a general statement I made) and he started defending the faith passionately…

People that I use to look up to, all Christians and of similar orientations – how am I suppose to look at any of them in the same way ever again?  How can intelligent people be so, well, so damn dumb or ignorant, or both? I know it’s not really their fault and I should be the last one to even judge – but I am judging and I cannot help it.  There is so much information out there and still you don’t question anything? I do not know how to get past this one in particular.

Believe me, I am not a drama queen.  I am just above average intelligence (although, all that IQ does not seem to help most religious people either…) and I am a happy person for the most part.   So, how is it possible for me to make that realization and my very intelligent religious family/friends cannot?  Why do we still live in a place where you have to be careful who you tell that you don’t believe in a god?

I will not lie.  I do feel a bit alone at the moment, but it will pass (part of the personality). Maybe I’m just rambling on because it is so new and because it seems to occupy every waking thought at the moment.  Or maybe I am just a little pissed off because I have wasted half my life on a bloody control mechanism!

Again, don’t mind me.  This is early days and certainly part of the process. I am, after all, a very insignificant part of a much bigger picture.

Thank you for the time and space that allowed me to share. I have found this site through the twitter community, who is a lovely bunch of crazy, accepting individuals. (Could not fit all this into 140 characters)

Follow @NotSoDamnFunny on Twitter.

I was born to a very “normal” loving family. In fact we were so normal, we were abnormal. My parents were and still are deeply in love with each other. We had very little beyond the material necessities in life but there was no abuse of any kind in my childhood. My parents are Christian but of the moderate variety and our church was the United Church of Canada… the most liberal Christian denomination imaginable. The church is all about social justice. They ordain gay clergy and are very “accepting” of diversity. We didn’t attend church often. It was more than C&E but was not overly frequent. In my early adult years I taught Sunday school (all the glazed over, so-called, “Happy” stories). When my children were very young I was on the Worship and Sanctuary committee and the Christian Education committee in the church. I was even a member of the church council. Now this might sound like I was extremely religious, however, I really wasn’t. In my early years, I likely believed the Jesus myth but in my late teens and early twenties I had become somewhat of a deist. I thought that perhaps Jesus had existed but was just a revolutionary of his time. I thought his teachings were “good” and so reconciled my beliefs with this idea. I even considered entering the ministry. I “religiously” attended bible study with a minister who had a doctorate in theology and was actually very learned in the historical elements of the bible. He was an anti-“fire and brimstone” theologian and in some ways, I’m not even sure he believed the Christianity myth. He was an extremely kind person and very intelligent. I even took Religious Studies courses at University during my first two years. I gave up the idea of ministry when I felt I wasn’t “in it for the long haul”. I really did have a huge life outside of the church. When my children no longer wanted to attend Sunday school, they simply stopped going. It wasn’t an issue and they were quite young at the time.

Up to that point in my life, I struggled between deism and agnosticism but didn’t ever consider that religion was a negative influence on society in general. I thought atheists were bitter because of bad experiences with religion. I understood their feelings but didn’t ever contemplate that they might actually be right about reality. I never thought atheists were bad people. I always thought they had a right to their opinions but I assumed my “belief” in a “greater power” was more logical than believing in nothing. The problem was, I actually didn’t allow myself to ever think critically about the question. I’ve since come to the realization that not believing in a deity or supernatural forces does not mean believing in nothing. I now ‘believe’ in the awesome power of nature. I have confidence in natural processes that occurred to produce a massive universe, create life out of chemicals and energy, and that biological changes and evolution over vast periods of time has produced varied and complex life and will continue to do so. Those things are not “nothing” and there just happens to be tons of evidence to support those rational concepts.

My flip-flopping between agnosticism and deism lasted a very long time but my transition to atheism wasn’t gradual. It actually happened rather quickly. Sorting out the awe and wonder took a bit of time but the atheism hit me like a ton of bricks. It was on the morning of September 11, 2001. At that point in time, I didn’t know that religious zealots were behind the attacks that day but that discovery some time later simply worked to reinforce what struck me on that clear September morning… that religion is a destructive aspect of civilization. If there was a benevolent god, what happened on September 11 could not have happened. There could never be a justification for such horror, nor for all of the horrors around the world that preceded or succeeded that event. No ‘mysterious way’ could ever reconcile the emotional pain and devastation that I felt on that day. Thousands of people and their families did not deserve death or to deal with loss at the hands of other human beings. For me, it was a sudden moment of clarity. No benevolent deity or force would treat any creature it loved with such malice. Personally, I would die to protect any one of my children from harm. I truly love them more than life itself.

My experience with religion in my own personal life had always been positive so I didn’t “hate” god. I simply realized there was no god. After accepting there was no “greater power” I spent the next several years researching and reading. I’ve since determined that there is no evidence to support ANY supernatural claim. I’ve discovered that there isn’t even evidence to suggest that Jesus was a real human being. If there was any evidence whatsoever for any supernatural or religious claim, the million dollar prize offered by the James Randi Educational Foundation would have been claimed. It has not been.

I’m still in the closet to a degree about my atheism but this is primarily for business reasons. I am self-employed and run my company in a very small town. Although there is a large population of intellectuals in this area, there are still some who are theists and I need food and shelter to survive. I also have not told my parents. Although they are not fundamentalists and I know they would not love me any less, I think they would be sad thinking I might not go to heaven. My parents are elderly. They’re not racists or bigots. I have no desire to make them sad for any reason at this stage in their lives. They are very good people. My husband and children are all atheists or agnostics. My brother is agnostic. My sister is the only religious nut in my family and I rarely talk to her for several reasons other than religion. I’m content with the way things are. I don’t need to be a “radical” atheist in my personal life to fight injustice. I live in Canada so religious nonsense, for the most part, does not influence law, policy or education. As long as it stays that way, I will not become an activist locally. I am much more aggressive on-line because of the horrific abuses that are happening to women, children and the LGBT community in other countries around the world. I’m saddened and angered by every tragedy that occurs because of religion and I’m extremely angry and frustrated about the contempt that the religious and conservative factions in society have for our environment. This planet should be protected for all life that follows mine.

This, in a nutshell, briefly outlines my path to atheism. There is one other “event” in my life, however, that I want to mention. After reading this you might think that this should have caused me to be a believer but even this has not. When I was 8 years old, I had an “out-of-body” experience. I was very very sick with some kind of stomach bug. I had a fever of 104 degrees and was vomiting a lot. I honestly had the feeling that I was dying. I stumbled out of bed and laid on a bench at the end of the hallway and suddenly left my body and began floating down the corridor. I could even see myself laying on the bench. It scared me and I screamed and was instantly back in my body. I’ve thought about that incident from time to time over the years and there was a time when I thought that there could be some supernatural explanation but I have since come to accept that it was nothing more than an elaborate hallucination brought on by illness and fever. The brain is very complex and hallucinations occur. A natural explanation for that experience is far more plausible than a supernatural one. I think that my intellect and my ability to reason has caused me to toss aside far-fetched explanations for experiences that might have convinced others that the supernatural is real.

I’m a much happier person since becoming an atheist. I enjoy and treasure the life I have and no longer waste time conceiving of an afterlife. I spend a lot more time looking for the ‘silver lining’ these days. That’s not always easy on a planet where chaos, violence and noise are a constant but in the quiet moments, there is calm, there is peace and the wonder and beauty of life and this universe is crystal clear. Cheers!

Follow Wendy on Twitter at @AtlanticCanuck.

This is a first attempt to blog, and I just want to say who I am. I am a father, a human, a black American from New York, living in South Jersey and I have recently embraced agnostic atheism. For the Christians who may read this, no, I am not angry at god, I did not have a bad experience in church, I have come to this conclusion after reading the bible, having questions, and not getting any answers.

I was baptized Roman Catholic as a baby, took my first holy communion at 10, and was confirmed at 13. All this while I never read the bible. I had no need it was all done for me by the priest. He would stand at the altar and tell me all I needed to know about the bible. Every Sunday, without fail. I would sit, wishing I could leave and go back home and watch Wonderama, but I had to endure this hour. Catholicism was not so bad as boring. The rituals and processions and solemnities where just not a tune I could feel. Then we met some Seventh Day Adventist.

The Seventh Day Adventist is a Christian sect that adheres closely to Orthodox Jewish traditions especially in keeping of a Seventh day (or Saturday) Sabbath. When we were introduced, I felt this churches “vibe”. Lively hymns, lots of amens and hallelujahs from the congregation as well as a preacher that shouted out to you and inspired you to believe with his passion!

My mother was convinced and we were made to get up every Saturday, take the train to Harlem to go to Zion Temple Church on 116th street. I didn’t mind going to church here, lots of kids my age and color, not like the Catholic church. And after service we ran around and played not, like the oh so pious and quiet Catholics.

My mother was baptized first. As I watched her walk up the aisle as the preacher asked  ”Will you accept Jesus? Will you be saved by his grace?” Her along with a few others made their way up to the altar and asserted they would be baptized in the “blood of Christ” as a symbol of redemption and rebirth into a New Christian, washing away your sins. I watched as she was held by her arms and submerged backwards into the water. For a few seconds I did not think they would bring her back up but they did and the whole congregation erupted into a frenzy as if Jesus himself walked in and had a seat!

Seeing My mother take this leap of “faith”, I myself declared my love of Jesus and my need to be saved as well. And was baptized for the second time in my life as a Born again Christian! Hallelujah! but as the water rolled down my body and I shivered, I did not feel different, no spirit entered me, I still had my thoughts that I had. I still went home that night and touched myself in my shower. Nothing changed. I began to take bible study and for the first time in my life was encouraged to read the bible. They gave verse and chapter and we talked and discussed its merits and how it showed god’s divine mercy love and compassion for humans, and that he had great expectations as well as mansions and streets paved with gold waiting for us should we remain “faithful” and worship his eternal glory and divine wisdom. This is when I found out the dictionary meaning of faith.

Let me back up a little bit. I need you to understand that as a young man I was pretty smart. I walked into kindergarten at 5 years old knowing how to read, write and spell fluently thanks to my mother. And in 1967 that was pretty impressive. I was always told by my mother, “When you see or hear a word you do not understand, look it up in the dictionary.” And if for nothing else I thank my mother for that amazing bit of information.

Now, back to faith. I did not understand the word prior to church. I had heard it but it was now a requirement as an Adventist. So much more so than a Catholic because we were actually following God’s word to the “T”! So this word rolling in my head became a headache so I looked it up. Faith – Complete trust in a person or thing. Believing something without proof. This shook me. I had gone through two religions and I had faith, but in What? I never heard god talk to me. I never saw him in any actionable activity I performed, and His presence did not comfort me near as much as hugs form my nana! But I toiled on. Praying everyday, not for things but thanking him for his wonderful gifts of sustenance and compassion for not letting us die in our sleep. Our prayers to stay on the righteous path to him rather than the slippery slope that leads to worldly behavior, wickedness and eternal damnation.

During this time I had sex in the church with more than a few of the “church sisters” smoked cigarettes and did “ungodly” acts. I always prayed and asked forgiveness because that is how it worked, as long as I asked, Jesus would forgive! What a remarkable system! I found I could do almost anything I wanted and Jesus would give me a nod and a “Saved again pass”.

I was 16 at this time and the questions started to creep in. I had against my pastor’s warning, started to read the bible all by myself. What I came across was astounding! Not only was Gods eternal Love, glory and wisdom laced with some of the most horrific, twisted murderous and incestuous acts I had ever heard of, but I found contradiction after contradiction in “The Word of God”. I could not contain my self and asked my mother, she said she did not know what to make of it, as she only read what she was told to read. I asked my friends, they just didn’t read at all. And so I went to our pastor. He smiled, gave me a gentle touch on the shoulder and answered my question with a flash of brilliance that only smacked me in the face. He said, “These stories are taken out of context, You have to have faith” . Faith, I have to not believe what I read as the Word of God but believe blindly that this is his intention, to confuse and bedazzle me because he is “just to large for you to comprehend”.

I had enough. I searched over the next few years. From rabbi to Buddhist temples, Even to the Cult of Tony and Susan Alamo! Man, did I dodge that bullet! But no one, no one could help me “get God”. I had never felt him, or Jesus, in my life or do anything for me that I didn’t have direct responsibility for or that I could attribute to someone else doing it for me. But still I held on because He had to be true. I had spent my whole life so far worshiping and honoring and kneeling and praying and keeping his commandments, well, the ones that I felt were good to follow, just like most Christians.

It was not until I was in my 40′s, I would say 48, that I turned from God into Spiritualism. Here I had it easy. I believed in a Deity, but not the god of the bible. Something Had to create us right? But this still gave no solace. No peace, no comfort, as I still had this nagging fear of hell!. It was not until May of 2013 that I stumbled upon an atheist meme that asked, “Are you on the Fence?” As I read it, my head exploded! Yes! I am on the fence I have been forever! I then had the good fortune of having  a coworker give me a copy of Christopher Hitchens “God is not Good”. and then I knew! I watched his videos, saw some Richard Dawkins, some Sam Harris and these people, these thinkers, these people tapped in me something that religion never did. Freedom. Absolute freedom to be and do whatever I wanted without fear of Hell, demonization, excommunication or non-tolerance.

I knew that murder was wrong, the bible did not have to tell me that I deduced that long before I read it in there. I knew I loved my parents, long before I was ordered by the commandments. I was a moral, human in a world filled with all sorts of individuals and I was finally OK.

Now I must tell you, at first I was quite bitter and angry for wasting my time, life and money on religion and it stung just as any con job you find out you got had by stings. But then I found Twitter community and like minded people who not only were atheist, but embraced it. Some of these folks are brash and brazen, some are thoughtful and kind, and some are just batshit crazy! but one thing for certain, they have shown me a sense of respect and community that I never experienced in church, in the sense of judgement free sensibilities. and openness to new information. Free, funny, analytic, logical, reasonable. This is how I was born. And thanks to atheism. This is how I will die, and I am good with that.!

As far back as I can remember, I have viewed religion as a nuisance. It was only recently that I came to grips with the fact that religion is not merely a nuisance, but a parasite, milking the lifeblood of humanity.

I was raised by my mother to be a God-fearing Irish-Catholic, but we were not fundamentalists by any means. We went to church every Sunday and received all the sacraments.  My two sisters and I also attended CCD (Catholicism class) every Wednesday. In between, we attended public school, watched HBO and generally didn’t mention God. In fact, privately, mom would join us in some light-hearted ribbing of the more religious families in the neighborhood, likening them to the Flanders family from “The Simpsons”. My feelings towards Catholicism ranged from ambivalence to resentment. I hated having my Sunday play interrupted. I hated missing half of ABC’s Wednesday night TV lineup, which included “Quantum Leap”. I was always of the opinion that God would see me for the good person I was and not care if I worshipped Him. That was how I processed my Catholic guilt. By the time I finished high school I had become comfortable in my conclusion that anyone who claims to know anything regarding God or the afterlife is a con artist. On my eighteenth birthday my mother officially released me from my church-going obligations.

The years following were spent acquiescing to my religious friends and family. I became Godfather to my sister’s kids. I was married in a Catholic church. My two children were baptized. My family knew I was not devout, but I levied no outward protest to the occasional ceremonial requirements of my time. It was a period in my life I later referred to as ‘sleepwalking through Catholicism’.

It’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment I woke up. In recent years my sisters began detaching themselves from the church amid the sex abuse scandals, and my mother made whispers of doing the same. My wife had been raised in a much stricter Catholic household, and now even she began expressing reservations about the faith. When she opened up to me, it allowed me to acknowledge years of pent-up disdain for religious thinking. The crimes of religion are too numerous to mention here, including unfathomable abuse, miseducation, misogyny and terrorism. As a result of these discussions, we decided to allow no further indoctrination of our children.

My wife and I agree that life has taken a sweeter turn for us since we’ve left our religion behind. We’ve been better conversationalists with each other. I talk to my kids more about science and nature, trying to instill a sense of wonder in them. In general I treat people better, knowing that time is fleeting. Religious fanaticism is a genuine threat to the survival of our species and I’m no longer going to remain silent. Thanks to some great people on Twitter, I found out I’m not alone. There are plenty out there like me.

Follow @slowroast77 on Twitter.

I grew up Christian, that is to say that I was forced to go to Christian churches as a child by my parents and/or grandparents at different points in my life.  I could just as easily have been a Muslim had I been born in another country though.  As genetics would have it, I was born in America to the descendants of European immigrants so I was a Christian.  I mention this only to highlight how even at a young age, I could recognize that your religion was forced on you because of who your parents were.

My path to atheism started around the time that I was 10 years old.  My parents had split up and my younger brother and I were forced to live with our father at his mother’s house.  I hated it.  My grandmother was a really mean lady who treated us with the open contempt of house guests who had over-stayed their welcome.  However, as a good Christian woman, she was concerned for our salvation and therefore forced us to go to church with her every Sunday.  Grandma was widowed by a middle class, hard-working, great man, and although she was living on social security benefits she still went to the church in the rich neighborhood that she had always gone to.  This was the source of a lot of misery for me, being the poor kid in the rich church sucked.  I never felt welcome at home or at church during those months.  I would hide in the bathroom for hours during bible study and then only come out during services so that grandma didn’t know I skipped bible study again.  On more than one occasion I was caught trying to leave the church and developed a reputation as a troublemaker which led to being picked on by the adults now too.  That church was a horrible place filled with horrible people, a place I’ve never forgotten.

During this same period I had a friend named Andy that lived across the street from us.  Andy and I were best friends.  We played like any other kids, football, cowboys and indians, board games, climbed trees, the things that active kids did way back in the early 80s.  One day Andy was no longer allowed to come over and watch tv with us.  His mother had joined a Jehovah’s Witness church and therefore Andy was now a Jehovah’s Witness and could no longer watch the violent Road Runner cartoons.  I remember thinking how it was so unfair that I could no longer celebrate birthdays or holidays or even go to school with Andy anymore because he was homeschooled.  All because his mom went to a different church.  What really baffled me at 10 years old though was why does the same God have different rules for me and Andy?  I believed that the treatment I received at grandma’s church combined with Andy’s new rules are what made me start questioning the existence of a God.

After all, if He is going to let me be so miserable in His house than either I did something to deserve it or He doesn’t exist.  And what kind of God would stop Andy and I from having harmless fun watching the Road Runner or Top Gun?

In 6th grade we moved to live with our mom.  A new city, a new church forced on us.  This one was a 7th Day Adventist Church that my maternal grandma goes to, to this very day.  Now I couldn’t watch the Road Runner on Saturdays because my other grandma was dragging us to church with her.  Big change here though… something clicked.  I bought it hook, line, and sinker.  I was a Jesus loving fool! The people were so nice and their version of God seemed so much better.  Around 14 or 15 I went to the Pastor and asked if I could be baptized because he had said that you had to be baptized to get into heaven.  Well, I certainly didn’t want to miss out on that so I said sign me up, sir!  He told me I would have to do bible study and work hard and if, after his 3 month study program I passed the test, he would be happy to baptize me.  A test?  “Did that newborn baby you baptized this morning have to take a test?” I asked.

“That’s different……” as he tried justifying his test to me I decided right then that I had been duped.  He didn’t want me in his club and was making excuses, I felt.  Fine, then I didn’t want in his club either, so after that day I have not stepped foot in that church again, with the exception of a funeral a few years later.

I decided that day that religion was a scam that I wanted no part of and I lived the next 15 years or so quietly content with my disbelief.  I figured everyone has a right to believe whatever they want, who am I to tell them that they are wrong.  I bit my tongue when people offered their blessings.  I stayed quiet when they quoted scripture.  I sat silently while they led prayer in public or asked us to bow for an invocation.  I figured it’s their business to believe what they want and I have no right to say anything or to be disrespectful of their beliefs.  I was wrong.

Why was I wrong to sit silently?  How did I come to the conclusion that I can, no, should speak out publicly against your religious beliefs?  In a word: fatherhood.  I became a father.  At first I thought I could sit silently and let my son decide for himself.  But I realized that if I don’t say anything, if I sit silently and let it happen naturally, the Christians of the world will fill my silence with their brainwashing.  It began innocently enough, going to a youth group with a friend, occasionally attending a church service, or talking to family and friends.  But when my son asked me what I think hell is really like because he doesn’t want to go there… I realized the damage that I was allowing to happen.  My 8-year-old son was scared that he would go to hell.  So I told him the truth, there is no heaven or hell, or Jesus, or God, and that he needn’t worry about them.  I told him he is free to believe in  anything he wants but that he should only believe in things that can be proven.  Luckily for me, my son loves science, and has a very scientific mind, so he’s since then decided that God is a fairy tale akin to the Easter Bunny and Santa.

It is for my son, and other people’s sons and daughters, that I believe it is not only our right but our DUTY to speak out against religion.  Not just Christianity, but all religion.  It is for my son, that I no longer bow my head for your prayer.  If you offer to pray for me I’ll offer to think for you.  I will not sit in fear of making fun of your religion.  To offer that respect to religion legitimizes it in the eyes of our children.

That is why I am not only an atheist, but an outspoken atheist.

Originally posted at, and republished with permission.