I Was Born Right the First Time

I Was Born Right the First Time

OCTOBER 2004

Aside from being one of my favorite bumper stickers, the above title reflects how I actually feel about my life. Mom got it right the first time. But it is amazing how many Born-Again Christians urge me to experience a re-birth through Jesus. I may be one of the most prayed-for people on the planet, based on my email messages. People write to tell me how they will pray for my soul and hope that someday I’ll see the light, come to my senses and so on. I receive one or two of these emails every week. While the language differs, and the length of the messages differ (dramatically), they all have one thing in common—the three S’s: They are all smug, self-righteousness and sanctimonious. They also suffer from the three C’s: condescension, conceit and cockiness.

I cannot fathom the motivation of people who send me such messages. Having received so many, though, I do see a glimmer of a possibility. My writing is hitting some nerves, making some True Believers nervous, and they can’t just sit there and do nothing. I think perhaps that by writing to me they reassure themselves somehow about their own beliefs. The messages are just too intense to have been written by people who are secure, confident and serene in their religious convictions. Very few are rude. What little rude mail I receive is almost always from nonbelievers who don’t like my way of expressing my lack of religious belief. To them I always say, “If you don’t like what I write, then don’t read it.” Sound advice I would say.

But these intense “I’ll pray for you” emails are very strange. They remind me of people in movies who wear garlic or hold out crucifixes to ward off werewolves and vampires. They betray a definite fear. They don’t fear me personally, but they definitely fear my writing. Some I respond to and some I don’t, depending actually on time management problems! But when I do respond I usually say the same thing to everyone. I ask very simply, with no sarcasm at all, which God I should believe in, and why. I think it’s a fair question when a stranger pops into your Inbox and tells you what to do with your life. 99% of the time my reasonable question prompts an angry response, dripping with sarcasm and generous heaps of condescension, which is why I believe I’m touching some sensitive nerves. Why get so angry because an atheist writes about her atheism? Here are my exact words, copied and pasted from a prepared message that I always keep on hand because I use it so often:

“Which God? Shall I choose to follow the Buddha or shall I choose to follow The Prophet and worship Allah or shall I choose to follow the Hindu way and worship Brahma and Shiva and Bishnu or . . . .”

Not one person has ever corrected me on “Bishnu” which of course should be Vishnu, one of the Hindu gods. And that’s because these fierce missionaries have such a limited understanding of world religions. They wear blinders and intentionally remain uninformed. Why then, one wonders, are they reading my stuff? Several people have contacted me and told me that I am the subject of many debates on various boards and forums, which I find flattering indeed. Good news. But it still doesn’t answer the question of why so many True Believers feel the need to contact me. In trying to solve that puzzle I spent some time trying to remember what it was like to be a Christian myself, all those years ago. And the memories came flooding in, surprising me and upsetting me. Why was I upset? Because in concentrating so hard on what my feelings were as a Christian, I felt a true sense of loss, of melancholy. All those years wasted believing in Fairy Tales, and all those years I was not allowed to use my intelligence to its fullest. Waste! Anyway, here’s what I came up with in trying to figure out what would have made me write messages to an atheist like the ones I’m receiving.

Anger

In recalling the little bit of contact I had with atheists or atheistic writings in my youth, I distinctly remember feeling anger. Analyzing the reason for that anger wasn’t easy but it finally came to me. My cherished beliefs were my cherished beliefs, and anyone who dared to challenge them was the recipient of my instantaneous anger. But why? That came to me too.

Doubt

If someone wrote something that seemed to make sense but contradicted my religious beliefs, my logical mind was disturbed; I was troubled in trying to reconcile their words with my beliefs. Their words raised doubts. One clear memory was from when I was quite young, and I read in Parade magazine a story about a piece of marble or stone that had been found and carved on it was, “Pontius Pilate.” There was a photograph and everything! The story went on to say that this new find corroborated the story of Jesus in the New Testament. Young as I was (I’d guess maybe 15) this didn’t work for me. All the inscription meant was that there had been a Roman procurator in Judea named Pontius Pilate. He was a known historical figure; so what did that have to do with Jesus and heaven and hell and souls and all the rest of it? That’s like saying that whales are huge sea creatures; therefore, the biblical Jonah spent three days inside of one. That is one huge leap from logic, as is the inscription-proves-Jesus reasoning. But it was one of my earliest recollections of feeling doubt. And my doubt was caused by the preposterous A proves B thinking that went into the article, and I wondered why anyone would have to reach so far to prove a “fact” if it was indeed true. Of course now I know exactly why. But back then my doubt led to another common emotion in True Believers.

Denial

Since my Christian beliefs were true; and since anything and anyone casting doubt on them had to be regarded as the work of the Devil; and since trying to sort such contradictions out gave me a headache; well, I just went into a lovely state of denial and all my troubling worries disappeared. Presto! Say a prayer to Jesus, tell him thanks for choosing me to be saved, and get on with the secular areas of your life. Problem solved.

______________________

Well, for a lot of us the doubts festered until we could no longer keep up the denial, and we read those “forbidden” books and finally realized that our house of cards was tottering. I am convinced this is what is happening to people who write such smarmy, confident messages to me, only to be met with my inevitable question (which God?) which in turn makes them explode. Or just disappear. There’s a lot of that too. The which God question makes them furious so they either send snotty answers or no answers at all. However, it is a sensible, reasonable question (the which God one) and it deserves a sensible, reasonable answer.

I remember when I had struggled with that challenging question and I did not like it one bit. I remember asking my father about the profusion of religions, and why didn’t all people believe in Jesus. He nearly bit my head off. We Lutherans were worshipping the One True God and that was that. But . . .but . . .but . . .if the Jews are right, then Christians are wrong. If the Christians are right, then the Jews are wrong. If the Muslims are right, then the Christians and the Jews are wrong. If the Hindus were right, then everyone else was wrong. But that also meant that if the Christians were right then everyone else was wrong also. And where did Buddhists fit in? It was enough to give a teenager a migraine, and for years I kept that theological conundrum buried as deeply as possible. Then I grew up.

So here are some guidelines for anyone out there who is thinking of writing to me to convert me, save me or pray for me. If you write, be prepared to:

1. Prove that humans have souls.

2. Prove that your God is the true God in a way that religions other than your own cannot do.

3. Prove that there is a heaven if you believe in it.

4. Prove that there is a hell if you believe in it.

5. Prove that your holy book is true in a way that religions other than your own cannot do.

If you cannot satisfy my reasonable demands, don’t bother writing unless you just want to share recipes or discuss hummingbirds or send me cute puppy photos. I do like puppy photos!

I also like sunsets, and fresh wildflowers and the sounds of the ocean. I wish the world were a kinder place, utilizing humankind’s incredible potential to do good, instead of its equally incredible potential to do bad. I loathe cruelty and adore loving gestures. I delight in humor. If I see someone in trouble I immediately want to help. I long for a peaceful world, and am sickened by the tale history tells us about that possibility. More than anything, I wish people everywhere could wake up and realize that these are human feelings, not divinely-inspired feelings. I need no gods or devils or hell or heaven to prod me into having kind, loving feelings. Atheists should be proud of themselves if they have been able to swim upstream and bear the brunt of society’s outrageous prejudice against them. It ain’t easy trying to co-exist with in-your-face True Believers! Nice, often funny atheists write nice, often funny messages to me, and we are all pleased to be helping each other. And take note of this fact: We are doing what we do just to be helpful, to try to make one little corner of the world a little better, and we do it without any expectations of rewards in some invisible afterlife. To me, that is morality with no strings attached. The highest moral ground.

So please, True Believers, don’t jump down my throat when I write what I write for a totally different audience than you—fence-sitters and closet atheists. Instead, ask yourselves, honestly, why you feel the need to write me at all. Even when I seem to be addressing the faithful, I do so only so those uncertain people watching from the sidelines can help think through their religious dilemmas.

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