The “Arrogance” of the Unbeliever
I’m not mocking God. I’m mocking you.
“God will not be mocked.”
Those words have been all over my feed recently, posted by Christians offended by a variety of events that mostly didn’t involve them — including what they believed to be a portrayal of Da Vinci’s The Last Supper during the Paris Olympics.
When I see the memes and read the rants, they raise my ire. I see preachers of the Gospel boarding their private jets, Christian leaders diddling kids, and the Evangelicals’ current political idol holding a Bible upside down during a brief hiatus from sin.
Yes — let’s talk about mocking God.
The words also irritate me because they echo a message I’ve heard again and again since leaving Christianity — an example of which appeared not long ago in the comment section of one of Sheng-Ta Tsai’s excellent articles, “Atheism Requires Faith in the Non-Existence of God?”
Atheism is a corollary of vanity. It is arrogant beyond measure to proclaim Infinite Knowledge. That is what is required of an atheist (note small case “a”)
Alas, “arrogance” is an all-too familiar word to ex-Christians. As someone who left the religion long ago — who daily drifts farther from the faith of my ancestors — I’ve heard the allegation again and again. Though it’s clearly meant to castigate and shame me, the criticism has never felt earned. The thrust has never struck home.
On the contrary, I know how difficult my struggle with Christianity has been. I know how humbling it is to feel the sandy foundation of one’s faith shift, then disappear altogether. I’ve experienced the sting of ostracism after others learned that I no longer shared their beliefs.
“Arrogance” is not the first word that comes to mind when I recall my deconstruction.
Defenders of an almighty God?
After reading the above comment, however, I found myself contemplating the accusation afresh. I looked for a definition of the word, and came across this:
Arrogance: : an attitude of superiority manifested in an overbearing manner or in presumptuous claims or assumptions (Merriam-Webster).
Since atheism is the lack of belief in any god, I wondered who Sheng-Ta Tsai’s alleged “attitude of superiority” was supposed to be targeting. Did the commenter feel that the author’s arrogance was directed at God? If so, an atheist is hardly likely to step back from displeasing an entity in which they don’t believe.
And what about the claim that God was being “mocked” by the opening ceremony of the recent Olympics? Do the clamoring Christians truly believe that their God has nothing bigger on his mind than some unflattering PR — that he’s more concerned with his reputation than with, say, chronic poverty or orphaned children, ravaging storms or devastating diseases?
Do Christians truly feel it’s necessary to step up and defend what they believe to be an all-knowing, all-seeing, all-powerful God? It seems ridiculous to suppose it. Who, then, is really being mocked? Who is this supposed “attitude of superiority” actually riling? Why are those clearly angry Christians so . . . clearly angry?
A question of control
As I mentioned, it’s a wrath I’ve encountered before — old hat to me. By not believing in Jesus, I’ve aggravated many Christians in my life, several of whom have accused me of arrogance, as well as other negative qualities.
Defiance. Rebellion. Disrespect.
And now we hit the heart of the matter. Of those hurling charges against me for — let’s be clear — following my own conscience, not one has ever shown genuine concern for my wellbeing. Indeed, they seemed to hope their God would smite me to the ground — just as, during the Olympics, Christians seemed to hope that God would swallow Paris whole.
No. It is those Christians themselves who are offended — and not on behalf of any religion or God. They are angry because others have chosen a different path than them.
Of course Christians will say that it’s God we’re displeasing. My family would assert that it’s Jesus I’m distressing. But when I take their God out of the equation — which is absolutely within my right as someone who does not believe such a deity exists — it leaves only my accusers. It leaves those who feel entitled to tell me what I should believe.
And that is where we strongly disagree.
As an adult human, I feel no compulsion to think the way another human does. I have no responsibility to follow the lead of any other when it comes to the direction of my own soul. I grant no one — no one — the right to tell me how I should view my life and the world into which I was born.
Defensible defiance
I was eating breakfast with a distant relation recently when she brought up her strained relationship with her adult daughter. She began by saying that her daughter knew that she, herself, was a Christian. Then she told me that her daughter had “always struggled with her sexuality.” While I was processing this interesting comment, she told me that her daughter had “always been rebellious.”
And there it was — the accusation that had so often dogged me, as well. It wasn’t God I was flouting. It was the authoritarian ideals of submission, familial loyalty and spiritual conformity.
“You will be who we want you to be.”
But I won’t — and apparently that relative’s daughter won’t. For both of us, the solution has been to put distance between ourselves and those who would demand important parts of our personhood.
No, I am not arrogant, but there is arrogance to be seen. When Christians tell me that if I don’t toe the line, I’m out of line, that there is only one way to think, and it is exactly the way that they themselves think — when they attempt to dictate what everyone else must deem true, what everyone else must hold sacred . . .
That, my friend, is arrogance indeed.
