A few months ago, I drafted a letter to my parents in which I would come out as an Agnostic Atheist- a pretty big deal seeing as my father has been my pastor for my entire life. However, an option for the final project for my Faith in Dialogue (basically interfaith) class was to write a letter, so I expanded on that initial post and combined several other element to create a longer, more detailed letter. I finally showed it to my parents and received probably the best reaction I could hope for under the circumstances. As of today (12/17/13) when I updated this, almost everyone knows except for some family members.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I;ve wanted to have this conversation with you for a very long time, but each time I planned to, the timing never seemed quite right—first it was Christmas, then grandma wasn’t doing well, then it was Easter—no time was appropriate. But I need to make time. It may seem like I’m not making a big deal out of this, but that’s only because I have had a lot of time-a couple of years- to come to terms with it, and am happy. I feel like I should just get the worst part out of the way, so, here it is:
For the last few months, I have officially identified myself as an Atheist, although I suppose I actually have been for over a year. Okay, there’s the worst of it.
I need you to understand that this isn’t me trying to rebel or be different; this has been a really difficult and painful process. I have gotten pretty good at pretending to be a good Christian, but it feels like I’m not being honest and although I’ve been worried about how you will react, I need to just rip the band aid off. It’s been such a long time coming to this conclusion that I hope you will keep an open mind. Throughout this letter you will come across various quotes from one or two of the wonderful texts I’ve had the pleasure of reading in my Faith in Dialogue class this semester. One of these texts was Chris Stedman’s Faitheist—and this was one of the first things that made me feel good about my beliefs. Everything following is my explanation and story, so I hope you’re still reading and haven’t pruned me from the family tree already.
I had a firm foundation in Christ for as long as I can remember, but it didn’t really mean much to me until middle school when I started going to camp, and Sunday school moved from coloring to actually thinking about the bible. Summer camp was always wonderful, and those were the times I felt closest to God. The songs and deep connections I made with people often moved me to tears. I am still close with many former campers even today. You both know how close my confirmation class became; I have many wonderful memories from various retreats and classes. However, all of this changed somewhere around my junior year of high school. I felt very indifferent about and disconnected from my faith, and just went through the motions. During my senior year, I found myself asking questions. Sure, I’d had many questions before and realized it was a good thing because it helped me grow in my faith once I resolved them, but this question I felt myself leaning toward what I assumed was the ‘wrong’ answer.
I kept asking, “do I really believe in God?’ I suddenly was aware of the stark absence of any personal relationship with God, and I don’t know when that disappeared. I also realized that unlike most people I knew, when I thought about faith I only thought about God, I have never felt like I had or it was important to have a relationship with Jesus- that always seemed sort of unattainable to me. I also admitted that I’ve never really believed in Hell, and I looked at Heaven as more of a comforting way to look at the unknown. I still don’t know what I believe happens when we die. I want to believe that something happens, but I have trouble reconciling that with my realist mentality. But it’s not something I am afraid of. In addition, there were some beliefs that the church held that I simply could not agree with. My opinion on homosexuality and other religions are basically the opposite of what most interpretations of the bible told me to believe, but after my Faith in Dialogue class I have found ways to reconcile those conflicts. I know that you hold different opinion on those matters, but I have found discussing those topics can be really beneficial and eye opening to both sides.
Other things I guess I’m kind of touch and go on, such as Jesus. I mean I believe he existed, but I don’t believe he was higher than any other prophet such as Mohammed or Siddhartha Gautama. I don’t believe that any truly knew God’s word because I don’t in God, although I’d like to. And that’s the problem, with a lot of points it’s stuff I want to believe in but I don’t, and the key definitive in my identity is that I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to know the truth for sure. One thing that Stedman said in Faitheist that blew my mind with its eloquent statement (because I had never been able to articulate my belief about the matter) was his opinion on creation. He says “to be honest, that question doesn’t matter all that much to me. Investigating humanity’s origins is an important endeavor, but as far as I’m concerned there’s a more urgent question. What concerns me, given that we are here, is what will we do?”
Anyway, next, I realized I felt nothing. At first I was angry, because I felt like God was ignoring me for not being a good Christian [for aforementioned beliefs]. I was hurt, too, because having a relationship with God had been important to me and played a huge role in my life, so when I felt like no was listening anymore when I prayed it was really difficult. One of the reasons I chose Concordia was because I knew it was a Christian college, and I admired the faith of everyone I knew who attended. Because I was feeling doubtful in my faith, I thought that by surrounding myself with people of God that it would rekindle my relationship with God. In retrospect, it did the opposite, but not at all in a bad way. I can only describe my feeling about my new identification as relief. I am appreciative for many Christian values and the foundation the religion provided me with, but as a whole it doesn’t work for me.
In the beginning of this school year, I tried to overcompensate and find my faith by going to 4 church services a week, praying both alone and with friends, and talking to many people about my situation. “I wanted to believe in God. I wanted to love Jesus and participate in His fellowship of believers. I looked to so many Christians as pillars of goodness, and I wanted to emulate their compassion and social justice ethic” (Stedman 83). As this went on, at the same time I’d been learning so much more about other religions and interfaith through my classes, friends, and Better Together [Concordia’s chapter of the Interfaith Youth Core]. I had always loved learning about them, but I found myself believing more and more that almost all religions hold some aspect of the truth, and I knew that I’ve believed no one has the right answer or one way is necessarily right for a very long time. Although I believe this, it doesn’t mean that I think everyone else is wrong. I still admire people of faith, and I love when I can see their God working within them. I believe it is real for them. I don’t mind listening to them speak about their beliefs at all, I mean, I enjoy it.
You may wonder how I can love interfaith so much if I don’t even have faith, and it’s sort of difficult to explain—I wish you had been able to sit in on our class sometime. I am passionate about interfaith work because it helps me learn about myself, the world, and people around me. It gives me new perspective, something I can always work toward, and a sense of hope in a frustrating and broken world. Interfaith work and dialogue are a necessity in modern society because plurality is permanent, but inter/intra religious strife doesn’t have to be. It’s necessary because as long as these thousands of religions exist, some people will always come to the conclusion of “us” and “them”, often leading to violence, and interfaith dialogue can prevent it. These are only a few reasons why interfaith work is crucial, but above all, we should be doing it out of love for our neighbor. I am a religion minor because I love and believe in people.
I am an agnostic atheist because I do not believe in God, but I also know there’s no way I will know the ‘truth’ until I die. Arriving at this conclusion took a long time, a lot of reflection, and was actually really sad at times because for a while I had no idea where my beliefs lie, and I feel more so at peace knowing how to label it now. This said, I still find a lot of things beautiful about Christianity and I love the community aspect. I like going to church and participating, although I do not participate in the creed because I don’t feel I should proclaim it when I don’t believe it.
It’s been interesting to share my new identity with others, and I often get an “Oh, I’m sorry…” and I’m not sure if that’s because they think I’m going to hell or what, but I’ve definitely got a wide variety of reactions. I still value many morals that Christianity has taught me, and I love when I find the same values in other religions that I study because I believe in things more when even very different people share them. For example, before this class I knew that Islam and Christianity were similar, but I didn’t know just how similar they were and how beautiful Islam is. The fact that they place service above many other aspects of their belief system is something I can relate to, as my beliefs line up somewhat closely with those of Secular Humanists, who believe in the power of mankind’s ability to serve one another.
I hope that you become interested in interfaith, and I would love to discuss it with you. It includes everyone, and while it encourages respect and understanding, it doesn’t mean that all religions are the same, which is a common misconception. I’ve gotten to do so many amazing things through this class, and it will forever be one of the most valuable experiences of my life. I went to a Buddhist class at a local church and skyped with monks at the temple in Minneapolis. I’ve gotten to listen to speakers from Christian, Jewish, Atheist, Muslim, Buddhist, Native American, and Yogi faith traditions. I’ve read texts that have changed the way I look at things, and provided me with answers to difficult questions, and I would love for you to read these books because while some will challenge your beliefs, there are others I think you will love as well. I haven’t really encouraged you to check them out because I have many passages highlighted and comments I’ve written about my own faith journey, and I didn’t want to have you accidentally find out my real beliefs before I was ready to tell you. I have learned about religions, and I have unlearned about some, specifically the Mormon tradition. If a Mormon knocked on our door today, I’d invite them in and listen to what they have to say, because although I wouldn’t agree, I appreciate their faith. I’ve participated in class discussions that I wish everyone in the world could listen to.
I still have morals, which is (surprisingly to me) something people don’t tend to associate with Atheists. One of the things I do believe in is being compassionate and serving others regardless of their religious affiliation, gender, sexuality, culture, age, language, etc.
What does this mean for you guys? First and foremost, I don’t want you to feel like you’ve done anything to make me turn out this way. I understand that you might be sad about this, but I hope you’re not disappointed in me. Like I said before, I could fake it, but that really made me distant from you both because you’d try and talk about it with me and I’d basically shut you down. Now that you know how I feel and what I believe, I definitely welcome discussion about this because I’m honest with myself and you about it. As I said, I enjoy going to church sometimes for the community aspect, but I don’t want to feel like I’m obligated to go. I do not mind bowing my head and assuming an attitude of prayer when the family prays, but I do not wish to be asked to lead it because not only does it make me uncomfortable but I don’t feel that I should be reciting things I do not believe in. When it comes to prayer, I believe that by “assuming the attitude” or reflecting inwardly on the person/situation/problem, I can really focus my attitude or outlook about the matter and that directly affects my thought process and actions, perhaps making me more empathetic or proactive. So, it’s similar to prayer.
One thing that really worried me for a while was “what the heck am I going to do when I have kids?” I decided that I would still want to raise them in some denomination of Christianity because I feel that it provides a great foundation, but I would maybe have them attend a Unitarian Universalist church with me so that they will be exposed to people of different beliefs. I feel it is very important for them to have guidance, but I do not want to impose my belief or lack thereof if they feel differently. Of course I do not mind you teaching them about Christianity such as the way you’ve sort of done with Abby and Alex, because I admire that.
I guess the moral of the story is that I love you, and I hope you are willing to accept that I identify this way now. I hope you are more interested in hearing why I believe in the things I do than why I don’t in the things I don’t. But regardless, I am open to discussion. So, thank you for the wonderful background you provided me with, because it’s still a large part of who I am. This is meant to be a conversation starter, not my end-all opinion, and I hope you can come to see this as a positive thing for me.
Love,
Emily
Interfaith Crossing 