Beyond Atheism
Recently a friend asked me if I was still an atheist, pointing out that it has been a while since I wrote anything on that topic. The truth is I feel I’ve mostly said my piece. When I first started writing about it I was motivated by a need to explain my de-conversion to those who would invent their own explanations. The thought of friends attributing it to “being led astray”, “feeling let down by God” or any other spiritualese soundbite bothered me. I wanted everyone to know that it was a rational sober process for me, that mostly involved books.
There are two types of atheist in the world — those who identify first and foremost as atheist, and those who happen to be atheist. When a philosophy becomes part of a person’s core identity, they will often feel threatened by others not sharing that philosophy. It becomes important to win others over to their beliefs because the mere existence of people with differing beliefs poses a challenge to their identity. People like this come in both religious and non-religious flavours.
Roughly two years since I realised I was no longer a Christian, I find myself very much in the second camp. I just don’t find not believing in God to be a very fulfilling identity and I’d much rather identify myself around the things I do believe in. That’s not to say I’m any less of an atheist — I can honestly say that there is no part of me wrestling with the question of whether God exists, or whether the Bible is true.
It’s not that I’ve finally accumulated enough scientific and philosophical proofs in my mind to know with certainty that we live in a godless world — it is that I don’t even see a reason to ask that question. When I look at the world, I don’t see anything that makes me wonder if the Bible is true.
Of course who knows what is out there in the mind-boggling expanses of the universe, and who knows what science will discover tomorrow. But I don’t lie awake at night wondering if there’s something else out there like a god, because if there is, it is currently having zero impact on my life. And even if there was a megalomaniac God out there sending people to hell for not believing in him, I wouldn’t want anything to do with him.
The faith I had for much of my time as a Christian was one of hope that the world can be better than what we see now, and a desire to be a part of making it better. I would look at all the terrible suffering and injustice in the world and take solace in the belief that God would make all things right one day. Now a nonbeliever, I still want that better world, but there’s no judgement day to wait for and no miracles to help us — it’ll only be a better world if we make it one.
If you share that desire for a fairer, more just world, then I don’t actually care if you believe in Jesus or Mohammed or Vishnu. You are my kind of person, and I’m glad you’ve found a view of the world that inspires you to want to make it better. I’d rather have a beer with you than Sam Harris or Richard Dawkins.
To borrow an idea from the Gospel of Matthew — I judge a person’s faith by its fruits [1]. If your faith leads you to stand up for the oppressed and speak truth to power, then I respect it. If it leads you to being racist or denying LGBT people basic rights or voting for fascists, then f*ck your faith. I think that’s what he meant.
