I’m admitting something that most Christians never dream of saying out loud — I’m jealous of atheists. How could you not be jealous of a position of rationality and enlightenment? My jealousy on this particular occasion though is restricted to the area of language.

Definitions

a-theism: without a belief in a deity or deities

I know there are debates about implicit and explicit atheist positions, but if someone claims to be an atheist people know what is being communicated. The simple beauty of this is that atheism by definition not only excludes the Christian God but Allah, Thor, Shiva, etc. and an atheist isn’t forced to qualify himself in relation to any deity. (One exception appears to be FSM.)

Christian: a follower of Christ

The term Christian on its face value would seem to have a straight forward definition, but a visit to different churches would quickly dissuade you from such a naïve conclusion. The tent of Christendom seems to be quite large when considering the diversity of those who call themselves Christian. Consider we have John Hagee and John Paul II, Bishop Tutu and Bishop Spong, Ken Ham and Ken Miller, and even Fred Phelps and local favorite John C, lol. The fluidity of the term Christian is shining proof of Wittgenstein’s view of language. Most evangelicals follow the motto of: in essentials, unity; doubtful matters, liberty; and in all things, charity. The problem is that Christians seem to have very different views of what makes up an essential.

So What?

Most atheists would probably claim that this just another nail in the coffin of the religion of Christianity. Personally I think the differences of definition tell us more about language, epistemology and human culture than about the existence or non existence of the Christian God. Still what does this have to do with atheists? Having grown up as many of you did in the evangelical world; I have heard the debates and disagreements over who qualifies as a “true” Christian.

The reason this issue is still important to atheists, is that the clearer the lines are defined with our debating opponents, the less apt we are to make poor assumptions or chase rabbits trails in arguments. I’ve also seen instances where atheists have chided a person who claims to be a Christian but doesn’t hold to biblical literalism, seemingly questioning the credentials of the person as a true Christian.  The reason I think that Christians have such a tough time coming to an agreement on the definition of Christian is that they come to the table with many assumptions, hidden and in plain sight. Atheists don’t have a dog in the fight, and would seem to be a perfect group of people to define such a slippery term.

My simple question is this: from the viewpoint of an atheist, what is a Christian?

I would like to attack from a different angle though. Using Occam’s axe, not razor, cutting through the history of dogma and ritual, how would you know you’ve become a Christian. This isn’t a trick but a thought experiment. What is the simplest core set of beliefs/actions you would have to believe/follow to give yourself the specific label Christian, and not deist or occasional church attendee? My interest is to see how similar the answers from atheist community will be to such a debated question.

The student should be bothered by the teacher who isolates him, who seeks to control him, forbids him to use his mind and manifests insecurity at the sight of opposition. A strong theory should be able to withstand criticism, and will often earn greater respect under the knife. However, those who are afraid to ask questions are often afraid because their systems are threatened by reason. Essentially, the Christian admits, though not directly, that he is forced to suppress reason as a necessary sacrifice by which to retain his Christianity.

“By ‘dialogue’ people mean that you must not have the old wranglings we used to have, but you must come and exchange opinions and try to see the other person’s point of view… But where our friends of the ecumenical movement go so wrong is that they encourage dialogue with Roman Catholics, for instance, or with people who deny the very elements of the Christian faith. And my reply is that you must not, and you cannot, have a dialogue with people who either deny the faith altogether or so add to it that they deny it.”
(Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, “Romans, Exposition of Chapter 14:1-17, Liberty and Conscious”)

If the atheist was to suggest a similar approach to reason, it would look something like this:

“By ‘dialogue’ people mean that you must not have the old wranglings we used to have, but you must come and exchange opinions and try to see the other person’s point of view… But where our atheist friends go so wrong is that they encourage dialogue with Christians, for instance, or with people who deny the very elements of atheism. And my reply is that you must not, and you cannot, have a dialogue with people who either deny atheism altogether or so add to it that they deny it.”

Indeed, the above is an example, of precisely how an atheist, or any thinker for that matter, should not reason.

The Christian must prohibit counterfactual thinking because it remains antithetical to the content of his system; for he has been told, since the earliest stages of his emotional conversion, to avoid dialogue with non-believers, with those who fail to affirm his creed. And this is precisely because Christianity cannot withstand the legitimate assault of reason:

“I appeal to you, brothers, to watch out for those who cause divisions and create obstacles contrary to the doctrine that you have been taught; avoid them.” Romans 16:17 ESV

“If anyone comes to you and does not bring this teaching, do not receive him into your house or give him any greeting…” 2 John 1:10 ESV

The disciple is not encouraged to ask the skeptic why he rejects his dogma, but is simply told to avoid those who do not believe. This is backwards; it does not take mankind forward, but holds him captive to a mindless creed; a system he is never permitted to question. For religious leaders the risk is simply too great, they cannot afford to expose their followers to the benefits of reason, and this is because reason brings with it the danger of apostasy, and for those with power, could mean the painful loss of that power.

The deeper we probe the darker the light of religion becomes, for on the basis of its own principles Christianity cannot even justify a conversation with itself. The disciple remains confined by the teacher’s dogma; for he is not only commanded to keep away from non-believers, but is also commanded to keep away from non-corresponding-believers, away from all those who fail to affirm his creed. Hence, consistent Christianity, or at least the kind taught by Paul, must proceed against itself as a kind of suicidal solipsism. The question then, is how those who follow the dogma of Paul can logically follow the dogma of James, when the dogma of Paul is set against the dogma of James? And to those who reject the tension between Paul and James, I tell you, these men are only metaphors for the scope of Christianity!

Perhaps the point is that it is always dangerous to join a sect, which is so certain of the truth, that it admonishes its disciples to avoid reason. For a man who is taught to reject reason can made to believe anything. The Christian must control the mind precisely because he cannot convince it by reason, and hence, intelligent dialogue is forbidden.  In the end, all religious converts, in one way or another, are warned against, prohibited to engage in, counterfactual thinking because it leads away from their sect.

With Christianity, what is often called darkness is really light and what is often called light is really darkness. We did not say always, but that this most often seems to be the case.

I have no idea how long I have been an atheist. I also have no idea how long I will continue to be an atheist.

The reason I say the former is that there was not some “eureka!” moment, no day I celebrate or honor… it was simply gradual, as is all real and lasting change.

The reason I say the latter is that I am not 100% certain there’s not a god or gods. Gods can neither be proven nor disproven in the empirical sense, so who knows…? Maybe one day something will happen in my life that leads me to become a believer.

BUT! Based on what I currently have seen and believe, I am an atheist. But tomorrow…? Who knows?

ANYWAY: that’s a brief intro to my own atheism.

The difference between me and most atheists is that I talk to Christians. A lot. I write books with them, I go on their radio shows, and I even help run a site for rating churches. Why do I do all this? Just lucky, I guess (my Christian friends would say “blessed”).

I also do it because I am not a complete idiot. Hitchens is an idiot. Dawkins is an idiot.

I don’t mean they’re not smart. They’re waaaaaaaay smarter than me. But for anyone to think they’re going to change what anyone else believes by attacking that belief, well, that’s idiotic. And it accomplishes nothing other than further entrenching people.

I believe that belief is not going anywhere in my lifetime, so I also believe the best approach to people who do believe — in a discussion about belief — is through their belief system. (That’s a lot of beliefs for one sentence, I know…) I have referred to this as “playing the hand I was dealt.” As an atheist, I have no belief system, per se.

Luckily, most belief systems stems from religions. I say “luckily” as most religions have something pretty positive at their core: be kind to other people, don’t be a jerk. And I have found talking about this “core” to be effective both in creating positive relationships and effecting a little change along the way.

I have many, many stories that support my “findings,” but I wanted to start by asking other atheists here and elsewhere: what have you found effective and rewarding in any conversations you have had with people who believe in gods?

Anyone can throw red meat to their acolytes. And that helps shore up defenses all around. So I’m not looking for red meat. Rather, I’d like to hear from you about things you have said or done that create connections, as I believe people being more connected to each other would probably make the world a better place for us all. (Yeah, I know another “belief” from a non-believer.)

One more thing: I did not forget the Hulk. I have two little kids and god comes up from time to time. They ask me about god, and I say — with the greatest of ease — “well, some people believe there’s an all-powerful, un-seen god controlling the world, and some people don’t.”

But we’re watching The Hulk the other day (the one with Ed Norton, though I like the Ang Lee one, too), and my son wants to know “What happened to the man [Bruce Banner.]?” I said, the Hulk IS Bruce Banner.

“But what happened to man’s skeleton?”

“Well, it’s inside the Hulk… they’re the same person.”

“So what happens to Hulk’s skeleton and blood when there’s the man?”

“It stays in the man’s body…”

“Is it hiding?”

“No, it’s there but smaller… see, the Hulk is a manifestation of Banner’s anger. And the Hulk only exists when Banner is unable to contain his emotions, a raging Id as it were. He takes over and only subsides when Banner is able to reign himself in. So Banner does not wish to be the Hulk as he must lose control of himself to Hulk out. Whereas Spiderman is always basically Spiderman… he just changes clothes.”

“I like Spiderman.”

Dear Bleaders,

We’re here on this blog together because we don’t believe in Dog, right? Strike that, reverse it, reinstate.

Look. I call my way of seeing things Poetic Atheism. I don’t believe in anything supernatural. I don’t think the universe can think. I don’t believe there is some special being that is separate from the universe and knows about us and cares about us and made us. All of that is the imaginative fantasy of one group of animals on planet Earth.

There is a fungus growing on the third stone from Sol in an outer arm of the Milky Way, a medium-sized galaxy among millions.

Like all matter, this fungus changes, the stuff of the universe is not static, energy and matter are what is the universe and the state of normal is a bubbling cauldron of interactions.

Floating gasses, flowing water, growing crystals, and life (mold, trees, monkeys) are all patterns that fall into self-replicating relationships. The systems are little vortices in the weather of what is. Whatever works keeps working for a while because it works.

It is all explicable in terms of matter and energy, it falls into patterns that generate sameness and that can get really intricate and amazingly fine tuned. It’s amazing, but given infinite time, and the fact that it is true, and there you go, we have to accept that it is possible. The patterns get so fancy that one day they are you. They look up and say, How do you do?

Now that is very strange, but okay, okay fine. Okay, the pattern that is life, that is you, is awakened to itself. It makes friends with other sentient beings. It invents agriculture. It invents writing. It writes Shakespeare’s plays and Bach’s sonatas.

When this being, the fungus that knows itself and makes art, you, when this you lays down for sleep, goes dormant for a third of every daily cycle, it dreams.

It sees pictures in its head while it is unconscious to the world. These pictures are borrowed from the previous day’s sightings and from a whole life of experience, but they are not just pictures. They are stories. And these stories are strange and sometimes horrifying. They waken the fungus, you, us, me, the person awakens in the night, having dreamed of patricide, and is shaken, is quaking.

What is reality? What is real? The universe is real, the speed of light is constant. The universe is big and true.

Also big and true is what is going on in the dark room in the middle of the night awakened by a terrifying vision.

The experience of being human, truthfully rendered, is as much about the feelings in the room as it is about what the universe can be measured to be.

What is truth? What is your truth? Your truth is that you are a life form that knows itself. You are a miracle fungus. You. We have met some smart dolphins and clever whales. If there is life in the universe other than us it is likely to be even weirder than the dolphins and whales.

No one but us is talking, doing, making, trying to get other animal’s attention, like the ant in my first post. It’s just you, fungus. Just us hairless monkeys.

What comes into being when matter and energy fall into such patterns that they look up and say hi and write symphonies? Art happens. It’s very strange and wonderful.

The truth may be real but it is not “matter of fact.” What in fact we have here is a billion fantastically sexy weird interesting stories all going on at once in a great cacophony of experience. How do we make sense of what it is to be human, to be this thing, this sentient matter?

Well I certainly don’t think the magic of consciousness should be considered evidence for something hidden, something else. The magic of consciousness is magic enough. Nothing is gained by adding fantastical imaginative inventions to the wonders that actually are.

But the truth, the what actually is is very strange and overloaded and wondrous indeed.

Poetry uses the precision and dedication to accuracy of science, with the scope of everything (the scope of religion, the scope of art), with the widest scope possible.

What can we say that is not invention, that is all fact, but that takes into account everything at once? That’s what Poetic Atheism is about. Looking at the magic that is real. How can we think about what is absurd and amazing and true, dreams, devotion, generosity, the wonder of everything from ecosystems to echolocation, without making stuff up and getting sloppy and believing nonsense? Very carefully! Is it easy to know the world through poetry? No! But it is possible and it is marvelous and it is ours.

I’ve worked very hard these past several decades to get this down in print, to make sense of it and share out what sense I can make. I wrote five books about it. If you are interested in what I am saying, please read The Happiness Myth, and Doubt: A History, Funny, The End of the Soul: Scientific Modernity, Atheism, and Anthropology and The Next Ancient World. Thank you very much.

And for the love of Pete, don’t kill yourself. Stay here and suffer with me. It will be fun. We will drink beer and talk about what it all means. It all means.

Love,

Jennifer

PS. The Boston Globe Ideas section picked up on another little act of skepticality of mine — on cultural myths and the gym.

I was a TrueChristian™ for about eight years starting back in 1981. I attended a Pentecostal non-denominational church (Glad Tidings-Boise) back in the first five years of my time as a believer. It was there that I learned to accept the idea that my first duty to God was to tithe to the church. I was absolutely faithful in my giving of tithes and offerings. I was a “happy giver.”

After five years at Glad Tidings I became drawn towards Calvary Chapel of Boise. The vibe at C.C. was way more up my ally. I’m a professional musician and C.C. was just then forming in Boise and I fit perfectly into the youth-oriented fellowship.

Calvary’s Pastor (Bob Caldwell) and I became really good friends. We not only built the C.C. fellowship together, we also did a lot of prison ministry and even had some “leadership retreats” together.

Backsliding

After three years as C.C.’s music minister, I met some other musicians in the church and we decided to start doing some secular gigs just for fun (I even had Pastor Bob’s blessing on it). It wasn’t long before I wanted to get back full time into the professional music club circuit.

Pastor Bob and I parted company at that time … but we parted on the very best of terms. There was no condemnation from him towards me, and, I had no negative feelings for leaving the church. This would turn out to be the key to why he would eventually grant my “request” for a refund of my tithing contributions to Calvary Chapel.

Of course, I soon backslid into partying and wound up getting a divorce. After several years of living the old musician lifestyle, I met my current wife (of twenty years), stopped drinking, settled down and had two daughters. Once I quit drinking (without A.A. or any other “spiritual” assistance) I began to read Thomas Paine and Robert Ingersoll. Once I discovered the internet (Infidel Guy Show) there was no turning back. I found complete freedom from religion.

Giving

After some time, I started to remember an incident that had happened to me way back in my days at Glad Tidings Church. I had been watching the P.T.L. Club on TV and got suckered into believing that the Lord wanted me to send P.T.L. a thousand bucks! I sent the money. When my Pastor’s wife (sister Barnett) found out that I’d sent P.T.L. $1000, she took me aside and scolded me that the Lord wanted his people to give their money to “where they are fed” i.e., Glad Tidings. She suggested that I call P.T.L. and ask for my money back.

So I did. When I asked P.T.L. to return the money they agreed and I allowed them to keep $100.00 for being so understanding. I then gave the remaining $900.00 to Glad Tidings. After all; had I not already given the money to “The Lord”?

Fast forward to 2006. One faith-free day I happened to recall my P.T.L. experience and began to ask myself: “Why not simply ask, not demand or insist, but politely ask for my money back from Calvary Chapel?” All they could say was “no,” right? I had left the church on excellent terms, and Pastor Bob was a very cool, very laid back guy.

Refunding

By that time Calvary Chapel was huge. I knew Bob would remember me, so I wrote him a short email asking if he could help me with some questions that I had involving donations to the fellowship. Bob wrote back almost immediately with a nice letter saying that he had thought about me many times over the years and had meant to contact me and that he was sorry that he had never actually done it. He was very sweet and kind as always.

He then referred me to his Assistant Pastor (Mike Sasso) for help with my questions. I send a courteous response thanking Bob for his kind words and attention. I then connected with Pastor Mike and began writing questions back and forth. I wrote to Mike that my understanding was that when I gave money to the fellowship, I was essentially giving the money to God and that the church was merely “the conduit” between me and Jesus.

At first Mike was very friendly and eager… on his best pastoral behavior. Once my questions began to turn towards a “could the church ever refund money that had been given” type of query, Mike’s language became stiff and defensive. He then referred me to deal directly with Pastor Bob.

In my next email to Pastor Bob I selected my words very carefully.

Dear Bob,

I know that what I am asking is probably a first and highly strange request; even for someone like you who has spent so many years in the ministry. Please always keep in mind that what I am proposing is a request, not a demand. You can deny my request and I give you my promise that there will be absolutely no hard feelings on my part.

Here is my request:

Would you be willing to return to me all or any part of the money that I gave to the ministry at Calvary Chapel during my years in the fellowship?

If you say “no”, I will fully understand. Your choice is final and that will absolutely be the end of my inquiry. I await an answer at your convenience.

Cordially,

Billy….

I did not hear back from Pastor Caldwell. I waited for a couple of weeks, sent another similar letter and included an apology stating that I understood that he (Pastor Bob) must be very busy, but I would really appreciate a response.

Again, there was no response.

I sent a third letter stating (paraphrasing here:) “Thank you for the time and attention that you have already given to this matter. I will assume your silence means ‘no’ to my request.”

Eventually his decision came.

Pastor Bob wrote me back telling me that he was handing the situation over to the church accountant and that he would be authorized to work with me towards a settlement!

I want you to imagine the reaction that Bob’s “concession letter” caused from me and my wife! My jaw dropped and my eyes almost popped out of my head. We were hysterically laughing, jumping and shouting, “It’s a MIRACLE!” We never in a million years seriously expected to see a dime of that money, and now here I was reading a letter from Pastor Bob granting my request for a refund.

After a phone conversation with the accountant at Calvary Chapel, Jim agreed to send me monthly installments of $500 until the agreed amount of $3200 was paid off. The checks came every month and were quickly deposited into my storehouse.

That was the end of my contact with Bob and Calvary Chapel.

Ye Have Not…

I can only speculate what Pastor Bob’s motive was for granting my request for a refund. My circumstances were probably not typical for the way that many people wind up leaving the fold.

Deconversion can be a very difficult and challenging process. I found the action of facing (if only through email contact) my fear of my old authoritative figure (Pastor Bob) very liberating and empowering. Even if things would have turned out differently, I’m proud of myself for standing up to the fear that use to control me.

The moral: “Ye have not, because ye ask not”!

Update 3/28/10: This comment is worth highlighting:

I too wondered what would have motivated him to refund the money (though I didn’t think it would likely be a guilt complex :p). I read this article the day it was published and was so impressed with the pastor’s behavior that I wrote the church telling them so. I used their website contact form, so I don’t have my exact message, but it was basically telling them how I heard the story (a link to this page), that I have no idea why he would do such a thing, but that I was very impressed that he did. And it takes quite a bit for me to put any praise on a pastor ;)

Today I received a response from Pastor Bob. Aside from oozing praise for his god, I liked the reply to. Basically he did it out of thankfulness to Billy (and all that god unworthiness bit). Here’s the reply in its entirety (hopefully he won’t mind me posting it):

* * *

Caleb,

Thanks for your comments on Billy Braun’s refund check. I sincerely appreciated him and his willingness to serve by leading our church in worship that year. He is a great guy, and who he is, is much more important than the money he gave.

I actually believe what I believe. I have no doubt God can cover the loss of that money. I felt to not return his money, would only strengthen his doubts about the reality of God, and the sincerity of our appreciation for him. Billy is worth more that money.

Anyway- I’ve always felt when something is done for God, or given to God unwillingly, it is unworthy of the God I love.

In His Grace,
Bob

A dear cousin recently wrote me a note on the internet telling me of his interest in my public atheism and saying that he agrees with my poetic atheism, except for the atheism part.  He had a smart mystic believer’s argument: How can such little things as us know that there is no great mind out there pulling all the strings – especially given how weird the world is (consciousness, for example, and life itself). I wrote back and I like what I wrote back so I’m posting it for your reading pleasure.

I, by the way, am Jennifer Michael Hecht, who wrote Doubt: A History, and The End of the Soul, and I’ve been invited to write you a few posts. BTW, I call the audience reading me whenever I write blog posts, “bleaders,” for a host of obvious reasons. So, dear bleaders, I’ve cut some family chat, but am otherwise sending you what I wrote back.

My Charming Atheist Response to My Cousin’s Clever Statement of Belief

Dear Cuz,

What you wrote here is subtle and beautiful. I’m really delighted by it.

Here are my questions. I agree that the existence of this strange universe and our consciousness and feelings is freaking wacky and amazing. (That’s just plain true.) I also agree to making the choice to see this amazingness as essentially benevolent and beautiful. (That’s poetically true.)

But you go a step farther. You guess that there is a mind out there in some way, in addition to the world we know.

Now, why should that be? I see your point that we can not prove it to be untrue and we can see examples of pawns who seem to think they are making their own decisions.

What I want to ask you is why isn’t the world as it is sufficient? Can’t “meaning” be real in its own right? Does it really have to be backed up by some kind of mind or being or spirit?

I believe that our feelings of meaning are sufficient to the definition of meaning. Meaning is real, it is proved by its existence.

Can I imagine a vaster and more objective “eye” out there who would have more knowledge about what’s really going on than I do (like an ant in a plastic ant farm in my office doesn’t know about me or the history of plastic)? Yes, I can imagine it. But why should I imagine it? What’s wrong with what we seem to actually have?

And if there is some mind out there, why doesn’t it contact us in some clear way? Seriously — dogs can’t talk but they make eye contact they bark they let you know they exist and want your attention. Ants don’t seem to have the kind of mind that allows them to recognize us as fellow beings and possible friends. If they did, they’d wave, dance, follow our line of sight until we noticed we had a little friend.

I think if we had a friend out there, we’d know it. What we do know is that we have friends here. Isn’t that marvelous and isn’t that just as good?

“It means something because it means something” is a statement that is weird but has poetic truth.

“It means something because I think it’s possible there’s a larger mind out there and He knows what it all means, and since I think this is possible I go all the way and choose to believe it is the actual case” is a statement that goes off into untruth. we have no indication of this secondary level of meaning. but why do we even want it?

If we want to be what we truly are, it seems to me we have to believe only things we have clear indications of. If that means we have to bear the burden of meaning ourselves, well that is a great and noble adventure and I think we are up to it.

This is off-topic for a blog which is primarily a place of theological discussion, but I felt it might be an interesting topic to discuss. I have some experience of working with military people, I have a lot of military friends.I have admired almost all of them as good, honest people — so my heart sank considerably when I read this paragraph:

“In 2003, in a survey of female veterans conducted by the University of Iowa, funded by the US Department of Defense, 30% of the 500 female veterans interviewed reported an attempted or completed rape.”

The full story is available on the BBC website for those who wish to read it, and I recommend that you do.

This issue should be causing a massive public outcry — and yet this is the first time I’ve ever heard anything about it. Of course, this is a story about the US military and I’m in the UK; I’m not going to comment one way or the other about whether I think the situation crosses over between armies — because I simply don’t know.

I know people in both sets of militaries, though, and I have no reason to view them particularly differently in terms of their characters and attitudes. What it has occured to me to wonder, though, is this: Is this being reported in US news media? Are the likes of CNN, Fox and CBS giving this issue the air-time it deserve?

I’ve encountered issues in the past where people from overseas seem to have more information than people in the country concerned (and this is not a dig at America — it happens everywhere), and have often felt uncomfortable about the news media effectively becoming the censors of what we know (or think we know). This story brought the issue to life sharply, though, because when I googled Marti Ribeiro and the issue of rape in the military, I found absolutely nothing in the mainstream media except for this short story on the BBC and some very old stories about individual cases, one on the CNN website and one on Reuters.

Am I mistaken? Is Fox News even now wheeling out Skeletor Coulter to decry these women as liars? Is CNN, “World’s Most Important Network,” sending in reporters dressed in khakis as honey-traps? Or are we really being denied information because the news media would rather take the easy option and raise hysteria about tea-baggers instead?

Jennifer is my daughter. She’s three.

Puss-puss was my mother-in-law’s cat. It was hit by a car several weeks ago and, yes, its name really was Puss-puss.

Last week Jennifer and I went for a walk. Just out of the driveway, she asked me to hold her hand because, “I don’t want to get runned over.”

I explained her grammar error and obliged.

Without any regard for my explanation she went on, “If I get runned over, I will be dead and gone like Puss-puss and you won’t see me anymore.”

That’s a pretty good summary of being dead, isn’t it—gone and seen no more? I hadn’t really thought about it until she said that, but when the cat died, I explained that it was simply gone and not coming back. Apparently, she understood it.

It certainly gives lie to the silly idea that death is something children can’t understand, doesn’t it?

Death isn’t confusing at all: We’re gone and won’t be seen anymore. What makes death confusing and confuses children is pretending that dead people (or cats) are really somehow still alive. Or anything other than what they are: dead and gone.

Reality is seldom as confusing as lying about it.

As atheists we should never deny reality. In fact, if you think of the things commonly categorized as “too hard to understand”, “too confusing”, or “too mature” for children, you’ll find things like death, sexuality, and procreation—things Christians are afraid of and lie about.

As relevant atheists, we should never deny reality by not recognizing and rejecting the Cultic American Culture’s taboos that lie about it.

Tell me what your Jesus looks like
A Jewish peasant, a political revolutionary
Pretty blue eyes-a standard Jewish trait, I’m sure
God must have been colorblind
Long luscious hair and a bright airy halo
Or grotesque and hunchbacked
With crooked teeth and a chip on his shoulder
The holy candle holder

Tell me what your Jesus looks like
White and pure
Or non-white and poor
No one wants a nappy haired Jesus
Lustful for (wo)men
Singularly queer
A homosexual mindfuck
An effeminate fairy
Or a caricature of hypermasculinity

Tell me what your Jesus looks like
A humble and kind man with words of wisdom
Born of the Virgin Mary
50% non-DNA, half-god
The anointed Messiah
Or born of Panthera the Soldier
50% Roman DNA, non-god
The bastard son of a harlot

Tell me what your Jesus looks like
Black and blue, bleeding on the cross for you
Crucified like a common criminal
Buried and resurrected on the third day
Or left on the cross for the vultures to strip his flesh away
Like every common criminal

Tell me what your Jesus looks like
A stunningly beautiful angel
Or a stumped, deformed mortal
Did the Romans kill Jesus? Was it the Jews? Or his father?
What father would kill his own son
If only for his masochistic desires?
God the Holy Androgyne, fetishizing his own (pri)son
Divine child abuse
Holy water can not help you now.

Christian: You are telling me that you used to believe? Well then, by all means, what changed your mind?

Skeptic: I loved to read and I always thought that I should read the strongest arguments I could find, this included arguments for Christianity, and skeptical arguments against Christianity. This way I was always competent in defending my faith.

Christian: So you read books that argued against what you believed?

Skeptic: I did.

Christian: But why would you do that?

Skeptic: Because I want the truth, even if it goes against what I desire.

Christian: But you used to believe, and you used to persuade skeptics that Christianity was true?

Skeptic: I did.

Christian: And now you no longer believe, and you seek to persuade Christians that Christianity is false?

Skeptic: Well, I tell them why I choose not to believe, if you call that seeking to persuade Christians that Christianity is false then I guess I am guilty.

Christian: And all of this came about because you read non-Christian books?

Skeptic: Something very close to that, yes. Of course, I also understood them and I also sought to refute them, but in the end, they only further exposed the inability of what I believed.

Christian: My goodness, I am never going to read non-Christian books!

Skeptic: And yet, another manifestation as to why I reject Christianity.

Jersey Flight is a former Christian minister and the founder of The Skeptic Thinker