Skip to main content

My deconversion and my father

By Irish-American Girl ~

My story is not particularly dramatic, and I admit I am far, far more fortunate than so many nontheists in that I still retain a close relationship with my family, and lost no friends over my deconversion. Granted, the latter may be due to the fact I wasn't particularly open with my break from Christianity until college.

Front of St. John the Baptist Catholic Church,...Image by mmwm via Flickr
I was raised Roman Catholic. My father grew up in an Irish/Polish American Catholic household, and my mother came from a Methodist family. The first few years of my life were mostly spent in Catholic schools, though my parents moved my brother and me to public schools after several issues with the Catholic school that I'll not get into here.

Growing up, religion was part of my life, but never the central focus. We went to church; I prayed before I went to bed every night; and occasionally we held religious discussions. As a kid, I even loved reading my children's Bible - though more because I found them an interesting collection of stories than it being a focal point for religious belief. God and Jesus were simply facts of life to me, and I didn't think on them much. My parents focused more on raising their children with a sense of integrity and empathy for our fellow man, regardless of race, nationality, or creed. Religion was present - Communion, first Confessions, church on Sundays - but our lives hardly revolved around the Bible and God, at least not openly.

Even after we moved to Georgia, we actually attended church less often due to busier lives. I think this guilted my Catholic father some, as we would go after a few weeks because "we should" - like an obligation. We never became particularly involved in the Catholic community beyond Mass or the occasional church-sponsored event. My brother and I also attended Wednesday church classes after leaving Catholic church, so we didn't lose our connection to the Church completely. I've always looked at my family as a somewhat more average American family when it comes to religion - an important part of life, but not the center of our universe.

I never rejected other religions: even as an elementary school student, I retained a deep love for reading and studying ancient history and other cultures, so my exposure to other ways of life and philosophies began at an early age. I took these different faiths as alternate paths on the road to God, not things to look down upon or condemn. While aware of multiple religions as a child, the concept of nontheism did not occur to me.

Finally, frustrated with his pressing and questioning over my resistance, I told him the truth. [...] Thankfully, my father didn't reject or disown me. So what began my path to deconversion? It is difficult to pinpoint, for it took many years and no single event to take me away from Christianity. I never liked Mass or held much interest in church activities, and I've always been uncomfortable around displays of zealotry. So perhaps I was already predisposed for skepticism, yet didn't realize it until later. I became aware of atheism sometime in middle school after meeting a girl my age whose family was atheist. The concept of belief no god was confusing to me, though not offensive. I inquired her from time to time on her views and morality, simply curious more so than with an intent to convert. Perhaps she planted the early seeds in some way, but she never tried to sway my views either, and I didn't know her for long.

Wherever the exact point of doubt started, I know when I began truly doubting the Catholic church more than just disagreeing with certain views, such as the condemnation of homosexuality or the banning of women from the priesthood. In high school, my religious education classes focused on Bible study. While fairly versed in many of the parables and stories from my childhood days, I could hardly quote entire passages or cite verses. The classes began an in-depth study of the Bible and how it reflects on modern life. To be fair to the teachers, they focused more on morality and personal faith more so than conversion or condemnation. My issues weren't with them.

I did, however, have a problem with some of the passages we read. While other students and the teachers garnered lessons in faith, I only saw hatred and violence, excuses for horrible behavior towards other people. This deeply disturbed me, and I began thinking about other areas of my faith. I realized how much I disagreed with the Catholic doctrines - the very concept of priesthood as God's middlemen seemed to contradict the teachings that all are equal in their standing to the Almighty. The rituals and rules - so many rules! - often made little sense to me. I sat in discomfort during one class where they planned a Pro-Life rally for the next week. I kept my mouth shut, but I knew I wouldn't be attending that rally. My position always sat in the Pro-Choice camp; I sympathized with their core views on abortion, but found the concept of banning it impractical for an imperfect world. And I saw more and more impractical logic applied solely due to faith in an ancient, outdated institution.

By the time I reached my junior year in high school, I knew I wasn't Catholic, at the very least. I didn't want to let go of my faith entirely yet, and I struggled for some time searching for answers in other denominations, until I came to Deism for a time. I tried, I truly did - I read my Bible, debated with myself, talked in private with my mother about my struggles. But the more I read the "good" book, the more horrified I became with the depiction of its "loving" and "perfect" god, and the more I found I disagreed with it all. My moral integrity remained unchanged, but religion had nothing to do with it. Finally, just before I entered college, I came to the most honest conclusion for myself: I don't believe. Not in any particular deity, anyway. Nor do I know the answer for certain, and that I was okay with not knowing. It didn't change my code of ethics, nor my love for my family and other people.

It took some time before I had the courage to admit it to my father. I always feared rejection from him - a possibility that hurt far worse than any non-faith, because I take more after my father and always remained close to him. My mother, though a moderate Methodist herself, was always an empathizing figure in my life and listened to my views and supported me, even when she didn't agree with my conclusions. I didn't come out to my father until my first semester in college. If I recall, it was over Skype when he was pressuring me to join a local church and I kept fighting it. Finally, frustrated with his pressing and questioning over my resistance, I told him the truth. The following conversation changed topics quickly to avoid awkwardness. However, thankfully, my father didn't reject or disown me. I knew he was hurt and confused, but he continued to support and love me throughout college and afterward.

Religion is, however, a somewhat touchy subject for us. He still doesn't understand my views and sometimes I think he believes me anti-religious, though I have stated on many occasions I am not. I believe in the right for people to practice - or NOT practice - any faith they desire... So long as they do not FORCE it upon others, or bring malicious harm because of their religion. My lack of a particular faith but strong personal integrity is another point of puzzlement for my father. He knows I am, essentially, a good, moral person. However, this contrasts with his typical views of atheists and agnostics.

Sadly, for all his tolerance and intelligence, I will admit my father has some stereotypical views of all atheists as amoral and/or anti-religious thanks to his upbringing and his personal experiences. We usually avoid religion as a topic, though I occasionally get the passing comment that hints at his confusion and disapproval of my views, if not of me as his daughter. That does hurt me, I admit, but I will change my views simply to appease him. I won't lie to myself like that - it would be unfair to both of us.

Regardless of our personal disagreements on the subject, I am at least glad I am fortunate enough to have parents who still love and support me, and who respect my right to skepticism enough to no longer force me to go to church. I may not have my father's complete approval or understanding, but I am grateful for his love and respect for my right of dissent. It may not be perfect, but it is far more than so many others walking my path have, and I'll not forget that.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Are You an Atheist Success Story?

By Avangelism Project ~ F acts don’t spread. Stories do. It’s how (good) marketing works, it’s how elections (unfortunately) are won and lost, and it’s how (all) religion spreads. Proselytization isn’t accomplished with better arguments. It’s accomplished with better stories and it’s time we atheists catch up. It’s not like atheists don’t love a good story. Head over to the atheist reddit and take a look if you don’t believe me. We’re all over stories painting religion in a bad light. Nothing wrong with that, but we ignore the value of a story or a testimonial when we’re dealing with Christians. We can’t be so proud to argue the semantics of whether atheism is a belief or deconversion is actually proselytization. When we become more interested in defining our terms than in affecting people, we’ve relegated ourselves to irrelevance preferring to be smug in our minority, but semantically correct, nonbelief. Results Determine Reality The thing is when we opt to bury our

So Just How Dumb Were Jesus’ Disciples? The Resurrection, Part VII.

By Robert Conner ~ T he first mention of Jesus’ resurrection comes from a letter written by Paul of Tarsus. Paul appears to have had no interest whatsoever in the “historical” Jesus: “even though we have known Christ according to the flesh, we know him so no longer.” ( 2 Corinthians 5:16 ) Paul’s surviving letters never once mention any of Jesus’ many exorcisms and healings, the raising of Lazarus, or Jesus’ virgin birth, and barely allude to Jesus’ teaching. For Paul, Jesus only gets interesting after he’s dead, but even here Paul’s attention to detail is sketchy at best. For instance, Paul says Jesus “was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures” ( 1 Corinthians 15:4 ), but there are no scriptures that foretell the Jewish Messiah would at long last appear only to die at the hands of Gentiles, much less that the Messiah would then be raised from the dead after three days. After his miraculous conversion on the road to Damascus—an event Paul never mentions in his lette

Christian TV presenter reads out Star Wars plot as story of salvation

An email prankster tricked the host of a Christian TV show into reading out the plots of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air and Star Wars in the belief they were stories of personal salvation. The unsuspecting host read out most of the opening rap to The Fresh Prince, a 1990s US sitcom starring Will Smith , apparently unaware that it was not a genuine testimony of faith. The prankster had slightly adapted the lyrics but the references to a misspent youth playing basketball in West Philadelphia would have been instantly familiar to most viewers. The lines read out by the DJ included: "One day a couple of guys who were up to no good starting making trouble in my living area. I ended up getting into a fight, which terrified my mother." The presenter on Genesis TV , a British Christian channel, eventually realised that he was being pranked and cut the story short – only to move on to another spoof email based on the plot of the Star Wars films. It began: &quo

ACTS OF GOD

By David Andrew Dugle ~   S ettle down now children, here's the story from the Book of David called The Parable of the Bent Cross. In the land Southeast of Eden –  Eden, Minnesota that is – between two rivers called the Big Miami and the Little Miami, in the name of Saint Gertrude there was once built a church. Here next to it was also built a fine parochial school. The congregation thrived and after a multitude of years, a new, bigger church was erected, well made with clean straight lines and a high steeple topped with a tall, thin cross of gold. The faithful felt proud, but now very low was their money. Their Sunday offerings and school fees did not suffice. Anon, they decided to raise money in an unclean way. One fine summer day the faithful erected tents in the chariot lot between the two buildings. In the tents they set up all manner of games – ring toss, bingo, little mechanical racing horses and roulette wheels – then all who lived in the land between the two rivers we

Morality is not a Good Argument for Christianity

By austinrohm ~ I wrote this article as I was deconverting in my own head: I never talked with anyone about it, but it was a letter I wrote as if I was writing to all the Christians in my life who constantly brought up how morality was the best argument for Christianity. No Christian has read this so far, but it is written from the point of view of a frustrated closeted atheist whose only outlet was organizing his thoughts on the keyboard. A common phrase used with non-Christians is: “Well without God, there isn’t a foundation of morality. If God is not real, then you could go around killing and raping.” There are a few things which must be addressed. 1. Show me objective morality. Define it and show me an example. Different Christians have different moral standards depending on how they interpret the Bible. Often times, they will just find what they believe, then go back into scripture and find a way to validate it. Conversely, many feel a particular action is not

Why I left the Canadian Reformed Church

By Chuck Eelhart ~ I was born into a believing family. The denomination is called Canadian Reformed Church . It is a Dutch Calvinistic Christian Church. My parents were Dutch immigrants to Canada in 1951. They had come from two slightly differing factions of the same Reformed faith in the Netherlands . Arriving unmarried in Canada they joined the slightly more conservative of the factions. It was a small group at first. Being far from Holland and strangers in a new country these young families found a strong bonding point in their church. Deutsch: Heidelberger Katechismus, Druck 1563 (Photo credit: Wikipedia ) I was born in 1955 the third of eventually 9 children. We lived in a small southern Ontario farming community of Fergus. Being young conservative and industrious the community of immigrants prospered. While they did mix and work in the community almost all of the social bonding was within the church group. Being of the first generation born here we had a foot in two