"I wonder, have any of you had a "Come to Atheism" moment instead of a "Come to Jesus" moment?"
Listening to an Anglican service with words to the effect of "We are nothing, You are everything". It sounded like the supreme creator was the more like a supreme narcicist than a loving father.
Thank you for this--this helps me understand Catholicism a lot better, particularly in the lack of room for questioning. I grew up Protestant mostly in the South, and for much of my childhood, Sunday School and church just seemed to consist of learning Bible stories (many of which I enjoyed, especially the language!--phrases and images like "Moses in the bulrushes" and so many of the Psalms) and being kind to people, which I was fine with.
Because public school wasn't working out, I ended up going to an "Independent Baptist" school in 8th grade, which was awful. (There was a portrait of Robert E. Lee in the front office--most of the faculty and staff were alums of Bob Jones University.) Their opposition to evolution and rock and roll was probably my first awareness of having issues with Christianity/organized religion--I found both absolutely ridiculous.
When I was in high school, my dad started having problems at work, and his solution was to really dig in to teaching Sunday School. One Sunday, he announced in Sunday School (I went to my parents' Sunday School, because I refused to go to the high school class--all they did was lecture us about all of the bad things they assumed we were doing, which I was not) that the Lord had appeared to him in a dream, telling him to sell his possessions, move to Indiana (we lived in Georgia), and become a minister. Sitting next to me, my mother murmured that she wished he had told her this first before announcing it in church.
Mother later told me that he did apply to seminaries, and she started throwing his mail away. Their compromise was moving to Middletown, Ohio, my senior year of high school, because they both missed the Midwest, where they had been raised. (I didn't know him, but apparently J.D. Vance was a couple of years behind me in school there. My ex-step-brother is mentioned in Hillbilly Elegy.)
During this time, we argued about religion at the dinner table a lot. I started actually reading the Bible then on my own, and I announced that I wanted to be a Quaker. I also announced that Jesus's ideas seemed to be in alignment with Socialism. None of this went over very well with my dad, who at the time was very proud of calling the credit card he used for business travel his "Ollie North account."
Their marriage lasted two years after the move to Ohio. We moved in 1990, I graduated from high school in 1991, and they divorced in 1992. After going to the Methodist Church during their marriage, when they divorced, Mother went Episcopalian (because they had wine in church) and Dad went to the Church of God (where they had regular foot-washing and weekly altar calls).
Since then, Mother joined the Baptist Church when she married her current (third) husband. Rather shockingly, my dad converted to Catholicism just a couple of years ago when marrying his current wife (number four or five, depending on how you count).
Starting college when I did, especially given my parents' activities, I went through what I now realize was a pretty obnoxious evangelical atheist period in my late teens and early twenties. Part of it was normal questioning of things that comes with both maturity and being exposed to different people and perspectives in college; part of it was anger and lots of other emotions that I didn't realize I was feeling but had to find their way out.
A bit over a year ago, I started reading the Hebrew and now the Christian Bible on my own; I'm up to Acts now. I've definitely mellowed on the subject--though I still recognize how destructive the Church has been, I've also known people whose faith is a source of strength and inspiration for civil disobedience and pursuit of justice.
I grew up Presbyterian, so it wasn't as heavy a burden as Catholicism seems to be. I did pray, and I still pray now, but now it's to the Goddess. I also consider myself a Buddhist and get guidance from that tradition about right behavior.
I was also raised Catholic in a small New England town, altar boy, the works. Sometime between 12 and 13, I caught fire with religion. I read several dozen books by the great lay Catholic authors. God and faith became, probably, the major things I thought about for a year or so. And then one day, walking between classes, I had this lightning bolt realization that all of that was in the deepest conflict. Not just with my passion for science, but for the glorious intensity of playing doctor, and all the rest of the early experiments with sex. it all just didn’t fit together. The next time I can remember going to church was years later, when one of my aunts died, and the next time after that, as far as I can remember, was when my dad died. Those two things – science and sex – are still the pillars of my life. I’ve been married to two anthropologist so I’ve had broad perspectives on religions in general. At this point, I see them primarily of interest as primatology.
I am a cultural Irish Catholic, baptized but never confirmed raised by atheist ex Catholics. But as a 6 year old, I was drawn to religion and wanted to more Catholic. So, when I was six, my Dad took me to the circus and it was so great I had to go outside to my secret
didn't approve of prayer) to thank God for taking me to the circus. Then I had my What the Fuck moment, the realization that god had nothing to do with it. My Dad took me to the circus and I should run to thank him and tell him what a great time I had! After that I didn't exactly believe in God, but still identified as a cultural Irish/French Canadian Catholic. And still continue to meditate under a favorite tree (I've had many in many homes).
thanks for writing this; as for me, for the last 30 years and more, after the Boston's big bishop or archbishop or whatever they call the men in funny white and gold hats, Cardinal Bernard Law - gave the church's resources to covering up their horrendous abuse history, I have a distinct contempt for the church; and, my mother's craziness - that is another story
Dear Susie, What a wonderful essay. My own conversion to doubt came later than yours (but then, you are always in the forefront of everything, you Irish Catholic Atheist pixie). I started life as a choir boy when I was eight at the Foundry Methodist Church in DC. Abraham Lincoln, FDR, Churchill, Rutherford B. Hayes--all the greats attended at one time or another. We got to sing the Hallelujah Chorus in the big church with the grownups and we were told the congreagation might STAND UP because it was such a great number, and lo and behold, they DID! Then I was an Episcopal choirboy and eventually a kind of professional choirboy in that we were paid (it was said to be "carfare" but differently talented boys got different amounts of "carfare" and if you sang a solo you got beaucoups carfare for that). Then I became an altar boy, which I really liked. Seven a.m. mass, colder than the balls on Andrew Jackson's statue's horse, the Rev. Trenbath telling me when to ring the bell, when to wipe the chalice, all completely spooky and fun and sexy. The Rev Trenbath was a husband and father and was very good looking, prematurely white hair and to be consecrating the Host and all with him was a big treat. And then he got cancer of the throat and died at the age of 42. I was an eighth grader, and just about that time my best friend said that Bertrand Russell said there was no God. And given what had happened to the Rev. Trenbath, I thought 'Probably." It was not a big deal to me at the time, as I was discovering other things (well, masturbation and that kind of thing). And for the last 68 or so years I've not really moved off that dime. There are some great people involved in organized religion, but I don't find I have a whole lot of need for it. God? Heaven? Well, there I do have a bit of confusion. I believe in The Rainbow Bridge -- you know, that place in the afterlife where our pets are waiting for their reunion with us. How could it be otherwise, given their fabulous loyalty to us in this life? But does that mean I believe in the whole Megillah? Can't get my head around it. Is there something bigger than we are? Well, I can't have made up the Universe, and I don't know anyone who COULD have done that, so clearly there is something Bigger than Us, but I don't quite know what name I want to put on it. So I don't know where I'm going when I croak, and neither do you. But I imagine there'll be a lot of tail-wagging and barking wherever it is, and that's a clue.
Molly, that is such a beautiful story! And those photos. I teared up. I just found your comment today, sorry I’m so late. But it is really on time, given the news about N.D.Governor Noem. Ay yi yi.
Lately, as an insomnia cure, I say “Hail Marys” and “Our Fathers” to myself, counting them off at ten each until the words mush together into sacred slush. If I remembered any of those arcane prayers when you get to the big medal nubbins, I’d say them too…anything to shut down my pulsating, guilty 3AM brain. Once those priests and nuns get you, they get you for life! I too will ALWAYS be atheist, proud, loud and vulgar, but I’m always going to be a shivering Catholic!
It was GB Shaw who cured me at age 9 with his wonderful preface to ‘Androcles and the Lion” (good movie of that, BTW). I had no idea that all the German research into the Bible in the 1880s revealed, nope, no one who wrote this stuff saw Jesus. Love this story, and that great photo of you as a devout believer.
PS: I LOVE seeing debonair actors playing Satan in a movie, and I hope the first thing Rump sees in hell is Vincent Price doing the honors.
"I wonder, have any of you had a "Come to Atheism" moment instead of a "Come to Jesus" moment?"
Listening to an Anglican service with words to the effect of "We are nothing, You are everything". It sounded like the supreme creator was the more like a supreme narcicist than a loving father.
Now, I call myself a fundamentalist agnostic...
Jesus Christ stubbornly remains imaginary, even when the occasion demands.
Thank you for this--this helps me understand Catholicism a lot better, particularly in the lack of room for questioning. I grew up Protestant mostly in the South, and for much of my childhood, Sunday School and church just seemed to consist of learning Bible stories (many of which I enjoyed, especially the language!--phrases and images like "Moses in the bulrushes" and so many of the Psalms) and being kind to people, which I was fine with.
Because public school wasn't working out, I ended up going to an "Independent Baptist" school in 8th grade, which was awful. (There was a portrait of Robert E. Lee in the front office--most of the faculty and staff were alums of Bob Jones University.) Their opposition to evolution and rock and roll was probably my first awareness of having issues with Christianity/organized religion--I found both absolutely ridiculous.
When I was in high school, my dad started having problems at work, and his solution was to really dig in to teaching Sunday School. One Sunday, he announced in Sunday School (I went to my parents' Sunday School, because I refused to go to the high school class--all they did was lecture us about all of the bad things they assumed we were doing, which I was not) that the Lord had appeared to him in a dream, telling him to sell his possessions, move to Indiana (we lived in Georgia), and become a minister. Sitting next to me, my mother murmured that she wished he had told her this first before announcing it in church.
Mother later told me that he did apply to seminaries, and she started throwing his mail away. Their compromise was moving to Middletown, Ohio, my senior year of high school, because they both missed the Midwest, where they had been raised. (I didn't know him, but apparently J.D. Vance was a couple of years behind me in school there. My ex-step-brother is mentioned in Hillbilly Elegy.)
During this time, we argued about religion at the dinner table a lot. I started actually reading the Bible then on my own, and I announced that I wanted to be a Quaker. I also announced that Jesus's ideas seemed to be in alignment with Socialism. None of this went over very well with my dad, who at the time was very proud of calling the credit card he used for business travel his "Ollie North account."
Their marriage lasted two years after the move to Ohio. We moved in 1990, I graduated from high school in 1991, and they divorced in 1992. After going to the Methodist Church during their marriage, when they divorced, Mother went Episcopalian (because they had wine in church) and Dad went to the Church of God (where they had regular foot-washing and weekly altar calls).
Since then, Mother joined the Baptist Church when she married her current (third) husband. Rather shockingly, my dad converted to Catholicism just a couple of years ago when marrying his current wife (number four or five, depending on how you count).
Starting college when I did, especially given my parents' activities, I went through what I now realize was a pretty obnoxious evangelical atheist period in my late teens and early twenties. Part of it was normal questioning of things that comes with both maturity and being exposed to different people and perspectives in college; part of it was anger and lots of other emotions that I didn't realize I was feeling but had to find their way out.
A bit over a year ago, I started reading the Hebrew and now the Christian Bible on my own; I'm up to Acts now. I've definitely mellowed on the subject--though I still recognize how destructive the Church has been, I've also known people whose faith is a source of strength and inspiration for civil disobedience and pursuit of justice.
(My goodness. You certainly touched a nerve :) )
Great story, but of course it’s a great subject
I grew up Presbyterian, so it wasn't as heavy a burden as Catholicism seems to be. I did pray, and I still pray now, but now it's to the Goddess. I also consider myself a Buddhist and get guidance from that tradition about right behavior.
I was also raised Catholic in a small New England town, altar boy, the works. Sometime between 12 and 13, I caught fire with religion. I read several dozen books by the great lay Catholic authors. God and faith became, probably, the major things I thought about for a year or so. And then one day, walking between classes, I had this lightning bolt realization that all of that was in the deepest conflict. Not just with my passion for science, but for the glorious intensity of playing doctor, and all the rest of the early experiments with sex. it all just didn’t fit together. The next time I can remember going to church was years later, when one of my aunts died, and the next time after that, as far as I can remember, was when my dad died. Those two things – science and sex – are still the pillars of my life. I’ve been married to two anthropologist so I’ve had broad perspectives on religions in general. At this point, I see them primarily of interest as primatology.
I am a cultural Irish Catholic, baptized but never confirmed raised by atheist ex Catholics. But as a 6 year old, I was drawn to religion and wanted to more Catholic. So, when I was six, my Dad took me to the circus and it was so great I had to go outside to my secret
didn't approve of prayer) to thank God for taking me to the circus. Then I had my What the Fuck moment, the realization that god had nothing to do with it. My Dad took me to the circus and I should run to thank him and tell him what a great time I had! After that I didn't exactly believe in God, but still identified as a cultural Irish/French Canadian Catholic. And still continue to meditate under a favorite tree (I've had many in many homes).
thanks for writing this; as for me, for the last 30 years and more, after the Boston's big bishop or archbishop or whatever they call the men in funny white and gold hats, Cardinal Bernard Law - gave the church's resources to covering up their horrendous abuse history, I have a distinct contempt for the church; and, my mother's craziness - that is another story
Yeah, Law’s hypocrisy backfired big time. If there is a hell… right?
Dear Susie, What a wonderful essay. My own conversion to doubt came later than yours (but then, you are always in the forefront of everything, you Irish Catholic Atheist pixie). I started life as a choir boy when I was eight at the Foundry Methodist Church in DC. Abraham Lincoln, FDR, Churchill, Rutherford B. Hayes--all the greats attended at one time or another. We got to sing the Hallelujah Chorus in the big church with the grownups and we were told the congreagation might STAND UP because it was such a great number, and lo and behold, they DID! Then I was an Episcopal choirboy and eventually a kind of professional choirboy in that we were paid (it was said to be "carfare" but differently talented boys got different amounts of "carfare" and if you sang a solo you got beaucoups carfare for that). Then I became an altar boy, which I really liked. Seven a.m. mass, colder than the balls on Andrew Jackson's statue's horse, the Rev. Trenbath telling me when to ring the bell, when to wipe the chalice, all completely spooky and fun and sexy. The Rev Trenbath was a husband and father and was very good looking, prematurely white hair and to be consecrating the Host and all with him was a big treat. And then he got cancer of the throat and died at the age of 42. I was an eighth grader, and just about that time my best friend said that Bertrand Russell said there was no God. And given what had happened to the Rev. Trenbath, I thought 'Probably." It was not a big deal to me at the time, as I was discovering other things (well, masturbation and that kind of thing). And for the last 68 or so years I've not really moved off that dime. There are some great people involved in organized religion, but I don't find I have a whole lot of need for it. God? Heaven? Well, there I do have a bit of confusion. I believe in The Rainbow Bridge -- you know, that place in the afterlife where our pets are waiting for their reunion with us. How could it be otherwise, given their fabulous loyalty to us in this life? But does that mean I believe in the whole Megillah? Can't get my head around it. Is there something bigger than we are? Well, I can't have made up the Universe, and I don't know anyone who COULD have done that, so clearly there is something Bigger than Us, but I don't quite know what name I want to put on it. So I don't know where I'm going when I croak, and neither do you. But I imagine there'll be a lot of tail-wagging and barking wherever it is, and that's a clue.
42! So young. And your trenchant young friend. I don’t think any eighth graders know who Bertrand Russell is anymore.
My come to atheism moment comes in the last paragraph. https://mollymartin.blog/2020/03/08/death-and-birth-on-the-farm/
Molly, that is such a beautiful story! And those photos. I teared up. I just found your comment today, sorry I’m so late. But it is really on time, given the news about N.D.Governor Noem. Ay yi yi.
Lately, as an insomnia cure, I say “Hail Marys” and “Our Fathers” to myself, counting them off at ten each until the words mush together into sacred slush. If I remembered any of those arcane prayers when you get to the big medal nubbins, I’d say them too…anything to shut down my pulsating, guilty 3AM brain. Once those priests and nuns get you, they get you for life! I too will ALWAYS be atheist, proud, loud and vulgar, but I’m always going to be a shivering Catholic!
It was GB Shaw who cured me at age 9 with his wonderful preface to ‘Androcles and the Lion” (good movie of that, BTW). I had no idea that all the German research into the Bible in the 1880s revealed, nope, no one who wrote this stuff saw Jesus. Love this story, and that great photo of you as a devout believer.
PS: I LOVE seeing debonair actors playing Satan in a movie, and I hope the first thing Rump sees in hell is Vincent Price doing the honors.
“Here at last! Well, welcome! You’ll present quite the challenge…you belong in all 7 circles!”
You are doing the rosary, which I found to be an excellent sleep aid even as a young child! It’s the best Lent penance ever.
Here's the Shaw essay. I've been up at 5AM laughing at its great wit and unassailable logic:
https://www.gutenberg.org/files/4004/4004-h/4004-h.htm
PPS: the other odd thing is that I hate God but I love cathedrals.
They are exquisite aren’t they