Nomadic Thoughts

I've never come out on either of my blogs and said that I'm an atheist. My unbelief usually manifested itself in such ambiguous phrases as "my rejection of religion" and "my dedication to reason." Among my peers, I was always secretly excited when I was able to proclaim my rejection of God or anything supernatural. Indeed it was a coming out of sorts, the kind that excites little children when they're showing off a new toy. My girlfriend accepts me as an atheist, although she jokingly believes my wedding is going to be in a cave, with bats. My sister, three years my senior and a believer herself, also accepts the fact that I find truth in a different book than her. I don't worry too much about the opinion of anyone else except my parents. I'm sure that they have a good idea because of those ambiguous phrases mentioned above that I used quite liberally in a blog I had to write for a philosophy course. Perhaps I was so "careful" with them because I had an unfounded fear that I would disappoint them. Part of that fear will always remain with me. They did, after all, invest so much love and attention during my formative years in the context of Christianity.

As a boy scout I took an oath to do my duty to God (although the scouts never taught me what that duty entailed other than blind acceptance). I went though confirmation at church but at that age I was still under the impression that God's work was arts and crafts and maybe a cheery song or two. I didn't know it then, but I was a zombie in training. I was being told fairytales and nightmares that were supposed to somehow make me a good person. Looking back, my church experience was nothing more than teaching me that I wouldn't get my dessert if I didn't clean my plate. All through high school I went intellectually unfulfilled. It's not that the courses weren't challenging enough, it's that I just didn't care. I received good grades, but I got them because I had to, not because I wanted to. College would change all that.

In the fall of 2001 I was a freshman at the University of North Carolina at Wilmington. On September 12 of that same semester, I was a freshman who no longer believed in the God that I had grown up with for eighteen years. As I was sitting in my dorm room watching the World Trade Centers aflame, I remember thinking to myself that the world is going to be different from now on. I didn't know exactly how or to what degree, but it was going to be different. I went through that Tuesday like any other, unaware of the future implications of these terrorist attacks. One of my fondest memories of my first semester in college was walking through the center of campus, alone, on the night of September 11th. I had to be alone but I didn't know why. It's not that I get stressed out easily. I cried for a few minutes thinking of the thousands of people that had vanished from the earth in a matter of minutes. For the first time in my life, death was real and the fragility of life took on a new meaning. Around the time I entered college I was already starting to think about my personal religious beliefs. Sometime on or shortly after September 11th I remember saying to myself "even if God does exist, I do not want a personal relationship with a being that would allow something like this to happen." There was nothing that could possibly change that.

By the next year I had declared Anthropology as my major but I had no idea that my newly-realized unbelief may have played a role in that decision. I was now on a quest for truth in reason, the kind that could be found in dirt and DNA. But I did not emerge from my transformation completely ridded of the shackles of religion. I would soon declare Philosophy and Religion as a minor and eventually a second major. Although traditional religion and spirituality do nothing for me on a personal level, I still find them fascinating and worthy of inquiry. I am still amused by the possibility that people may think I'm religious just because I have a religion degree. One of my favorite books is Karen Armstrong's A History of God. One of my most enlightening college courses was Old Testament Literature. It didn't take long to realize that my fascination with religion was a quest to try and understand how so many people can be so obviously wrong about the world. I am not saying that I have all the answers, or any answers at all, but I do know a fairytale when I read one. If I do end up being wrong about the whole thing and I find myself engulfed in the flames of Hell, I will still manage to smile because I know I lead a fulfilling life without fear of my ultimate demise.

You may be wondering why I decided to write this entry in this blog (as opposed to my personal blog). Inspiration came from a number of sources. I will preface these remarks with the observation that it takes courage to "come out" as an atheist in the United States. Unfortunately, there is still a stigma attached to anyone who doesn't believe in something. Often times this is simply the result a general apprehension of deviating from the social norm and a fear of being rejected by society. Indeed, to be an atheist is by its very definition, among other things, a DESIRE to be rejected by the religious mainstream on ideological grounds. That being said, I overcame my childish fear of rejection by realizing that science provided a much firmer philosophical ground on which to stand than did religion. Secondly, Sam Harris' The End of Reason gave me more confidence in my five year old conclusion that there is no God and that a belief in one is dangerous. I decided to author this post itself by one of my favorite authors, evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins, who posted on another blog that in order to prevent religion from destroying us we must "start shouting, to encourage the others." On the same blog, Sam Harris had this to say:

The only thing that permits human beings to collaborate with one another in a truly open-ended way is their willingness to have their beliefs modified by new facts. Only openness to evidence and argument will secure a common world for us. Nothing guarantees that reasonable people will agree about everything, of course, but the unreasonable are certain to be divided by their dogmas. It is time we recognized that this spirit of mutual inquiry, which is the foundation of all real science, is the very antithesis of religious faith.