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I grew up secular, so secular in fact that I was in sixth grade before I became aware of this thing called religion (I was a very insular child). I thought it was the goofiest thing I had ever heard. An invisible being in two places or more at once! Absurd! I wasn't shy about expressing this opinion to my religious friends, either. One of them later told me that it pushed her to learn more about her faith, so in a twisted way, she was grateful to me for that. Another, I had a brief relationship with in High School that ended because she felt I wasn't sufficiently respectful of her faith. I remain friends with both of them to this day, by the way.
In my senior year of high school, things were not going well, and I started to wonder if perhaps I had been missing the boat on this whole religion thing. I started to resent my parents for failing to even introduce me to religion. I began seeking. I wasn't looking for truth; I was looking for emotional support to help me get over my relentless self-flagellation for personal failings so minor that no one would remember them five minutes later. I also wanted a little more "spice" in my reality. UU was the first one I looked at, but it seemed a thin gruel at best. At the time, I thought it was like the "Seinfeld" of religions: a religion about nothing.
When college started, I gave a brief glance to Buddhism. Unfortunately, I had no discipline to keep up a commitment to meditate. Part of it was that there was no social structure available to affirm a Buddhist orientation. The more serious problem was that I didn't really understand it: the words sounded pretty in my head, but I couldn't actually explain it to anyone.
Socially, I fell in with a group of Catholics, only one of whom was serious enough to want to discuss religion. My opinions of the supernatural and Christianity hadn't really changed since sixth grade, and I had never read the Bible. When he started quoting the Bible, I decided that I had to read it in order to be better able to argue with him. I was surprised by the figure of Jesus I saw there; my image of Christianity had been of damnation and hellfire, and here was what appeared to be love, gentleness and encouragement towards good deeds. I still didn't believe in God, but Jesus appeared to be an ok fellow. What convinced me that it was ok intellectually to believe in God was the argument from the anthropic principle (btw, that would be the argument that Richard Dawkins, for one, says is the least horrible of the arguments. At least I was fooled by the very best, although that isn't saying much).
I started out as Marcus Borg-type Christian (The Heart of Christianity was my intro, not Mere Christianity). I was still socially liberal (which meant I was for gay marriage, the environment, and pro-choice), and I did not evangelize. I picked a church off the internet specifically for its apparent liberalism (which became unintentionally the best decision of my life when I met the woman who will some day be my wife at that church). Then I fell in with the evangelical Christian group on campus. This started changing me from Borg-Tillich quasi-atheistic Christianity, to what I would have called the Emerging Church if I had known the term. I think that group had a majority of Green Party members in it, for example, yet the theology was as orthodox as it gets. I started reading C.S. Lewis, Reinhold Niebuhr, Phillip Yancey, and Brennan Manning.
As some of you may remember, it was during these years that I joined DU and moved into R/T forum. This was another of my unintentional best decisions: it kept me in touch with my atheistic past. I produced my fair share of "atheists are criticizing my faith and that makes me uncomfortable. Make them stop!" posts. Incidentally, I wonder if Trotsky remembers the time we went about twelve rounds of back and forth posts. It was also during these years that I found that mere belief and prayer were not enough to numb the pain of the darker moments of my life. If God and you are in a room together, you will still be lonely. I joined another bible study group, but it wasn't quite the same.
Then, I encountered the online book "Stripping the Gurus." I read it eagerly, lapping up the misdeeds of obvious cultists like Baghwan Rajneesh. The last chapter had an insight that stopped me cold: human nature hasn't changed much in 2000 years, so what made me think that Jesus was, in reality, any better than these modern jokers? I didn't believe in their "miracles"; how could I justify believing Jesus's miracles? That led me to Biblical archaeology, and the book "The Bible Unearthed" by Israel Finkelstein and Neil Asher Silberman. It eviscerated the Old Testament, and I knew enough from reading Niebuhr to know that if the OT was wrong, the NT had to be wrong too. There was no "arc of history". One night, while walking to class, I asked myself what it would be like to see the world as if there were no divine entity watching me. And suddenly, I knew that there wasn't. The emotions I had been associating with the "presence of God" vanished. I regained my naturalistic worldview, and returned to atheism.
I kept it quiet for months while I adjusted to my old outlook again, but eventually my girlfriend found out. She did not take it well, and some of you may remember that saga as well. By that time I was in law school, and my classes were teaching me how important objective evidence was, which only made me more confident that I had had it right the first time; there was no objective evidence for deities. She thought that meant I wasn't believing because I just couldn't make up my mind. She asked me to read more and to talk to our pastor. I did make the phone call, but our pastor could not answer my new insights. Months of coolness followed, until I made a very tiny, one time only concession solely for the sake of keeping the peace. That seemed to satisfy, and things calmed down more or less.
From there, I realized that atheism was just a beginning, not an end. It's not really enough to say what you are against; you need to know what you are for. So my struggle to the present day is to define satisfactorily what I am for, and figure out what flavor that comes in (Pantheism? Taoism? Buddhism? Secular Humanism? non-theistic paganism? Wanna-be hippie? Still not sure). The latest innovation has been my shift to "strong" atheism: the affirmative assertion that no gods exist. I got tired of repeatedly asking for evidence: it seemed weak and defensive. I learned some things about logical proofs of non-existence of the supernatural, a creator, and deities, and they persuaded me to go affirmative. Also, I couldn't rightly reconcile naturalism with agnostic atheism, because naturalism is an affirmative worldview, and it seemed like hypocrisy and incoherence not to be a strong atheist, too.
I've also started reading the Bible again. It's amazing how much clearer the whole thing is when you know about when the gospels were written, and when you read it without the eyes of devotion. There are some fun Christian counter-apologetics that can be done solely using the Bible, and I posted an example here when I recently returned after a long absence. I find that I really, really wish I knew who truly wrote the gospels, when, and for what purpose. The mystery keeps my interest high. Sometime I'll post the personal hypothesis I came up with for their origins. Somebody might get a kick out of it.
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