I'm Not Trying to Convince You

Let’s start with some basic semantics before wading into the fray. I’m not an atheist or a non-believer. I believe in many things including an often innate propensity for human compassion and the persuasive power of freshly baked cookies. The term atheist is kind of ridiculous as it means believing that something that can’t be seen or touched or heard doesn’t exist (wait, what?).

Here’s a radical proposition: We can all believe whatever we want as long as we’re not trying to impose our beliefs on others.

And this is where I draw the line.

There seem to be a few too many people who are intent on convincing me that my life is lacking something necessary — or worse, denigrating me — because I don’t share their belief in God. Or Christ. Or Allah. Or the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

As a non-theist, I am fully capable of living a morally sound life without some deity judging me. Even without a supernatural God directing my behavior I’m still never going to run amok and start slapping little old ladies and kicking puppies. In fact, if I really need a stern, implacable, and all-powerful deity to keep me in line what does that say about my sense of morality? That I can only behave properly under the threat of damnation?

I have lost dear loved ones and have been fully able to grieve that loss without needing to believe they’re still “there” somewhere and I’ll get to be with them again. While I certainly dread the inevitable day when my partner dies, I don’t need to “believe” that he’ll be awaiting me in some paradise after death to mitigate the agony of that loss.

And who knows? Maybe I’ll die first.

Problem solved.

My life is rich and interesting and filled with love, joy, curiosity, pain, generosity, confusion, understanding, wisdom, missed opportunities, major wins, and long walks on the beach at sunset. Please don’t tell me that something vital is missing in my life just because I don’t have the same kind of faith that you have. I’m fine, thanks. Now go tend your roses.

The prospect of simply ceasing to exist when I die doesn’t hold any terror for me. What’s the problem with not existing? I didn’t exist before I was born and that seemed to be ok. I won’t even know that I don’t exist after I die because, well, I won’t exist.

Again, problem solved.

(Also, isn’t it just a wee bit greedy to need more than what we have here and now? Asking for a friend.)

I’ve never tried to convince anyone that their beliefs are “wrong” and mine are “right”. That's a lie. I went through my own personal Bible-thumping phase after getting "saved" as a kid. My poor Mom. I don't know how she tolerated my determined efforts to keep her out of Hell.

The woman was a saint.

Yet human history is drenched in blood spilled over exactly that kind of thinking. For centuries whole populations were determined to "save" the rest of the world. Fortunately, even the most zealous of believers have moved on from burning heretics alive. Move that one into the win column for rational behavior. But there is still this persistence on the part of many believers to convince people like me that we need to believe in their God or suffer the consequences.

Bullshit.

So just can it with the stuff about how lacking my life is because I don’t march to the beat of your drummer. Hey, if you need these belief structures to navigate our painful and confusing world, go for it. You’ll never hear me denigrating what works for you no matter how strange, illogical, and medieval it seems.

You’ll never hear it because I only snigger and point at our super-secret-going-to-hell-heretics’ meetings held bi-weekly in the locked conference room at the library after closing.

Kidding!

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