Leaving Church (to the Believers)

For the record, I was raised in a strict Christian home. More precisely, I was raised within a unique sect of Christianity called the Seventh-day Adventist (SDA) Church which has its own distinct subculture. In my household growing up, there was no drinking, smoking, dancing, wearing jewelry or make-up, going to movie theatres—or even public schools for that matter—or watching TV on “the Sabbath” (which was Saturday). In fact, until the age of 22, when I graduated from an SDA college and left home to attend law school at a public university, virtually 100% of the people I ever knew in my life were Seventh-day Adventist! Those who know me very well are of two sorts: (1) They also come from the SDA subculture, so they know what it is like, or (2) they learn a lot about SDA-ism from me, because like it or not, it is completely inseparable from my family and my growing up. But I am not Christian.

At an early age, I questioned whether this thing called God was real. In the fourth grade, I began wondering whether there was really anyone up there listening to our prayers, or whether we made all this up just to make ourselves feel better. From my own experience, I could identify absolutely no solid evidence to rationalize a belief in God, the afterlife, etc. Of course such questions, while liberating on the one hand, were also unsettling on the other, because they implied the dismantling of virtually everything I had ever known or been taught, not to mention going against the social framework of my entire existence. So at first I decided not to rock the boat. Keep singing the Sabbath songs, keep dreaming about the pretty girls at church, and everything will be fine. But it was not fine. Within a year, I began to feel dissatisfied with the conclusion I had come to. I realized that my position was not genuine. So later my sixth grade year (having skipped fifth), I entered a baptismal class, fully intending to get inspired. I did not get inspired. The answers were unsatisfying: Highlight passages in the Bible because it is the right thing to do. Follow this and that rule because that is what the highlighted text obviously means. Do all this and God will reward you with Heaven, but if you fail to accept his so-called “Grace,” he leaves you deader than dead. Got it? Well, no. It felt like a waste of time, and at the end of the class, I was the only person from my group to elect not to be baptized. And I have never looked back.

Some of us are atheists because we believe it is the most rational conclusion based on the evidence before us. Given the almost unlimited variation of religious and spiritual beliefs that exist in the world, it is amazing to me how many people seem to think only one of them is absolutely correct. Those who choose to look with an open mind sometimes take this as evidence that there is some spiritual truth underlying it all. I personally believe it merely indicates that religion serves evolutionary, adaptive purposes on the societal level, such as general social cohesion, justification for hierarchy, mobilization for extraordinary acts of collectivism (such as war, migration and expansion, even social movements such as temperance, abolitionism, and civil rights), and perhaps most importantly, the potent reinforcement of basic moral rules which allow people to live side-by-side without utter chaos and violence ensuing. In its less organized form, spirituality is a coping mechanism for our finite but sentient minds to comprehend a harsh and infinite universe.

Please note: I am not trying to denigrate any particular belief or even define any set of beliefs restrictively, but rather to lay forth the purposes these social phenomena serve, which to my mind explain their very existence. I personally find religion aesthetically meaningful sometimes, not to mention a useful mode of talking about ideals: My classroom management plan describes the positive learning environment as a “sanctuary” and a “Church of Knowledge.” I could go on and on, but I should spare you all my Atheist Manifesto. Apologies if my views offend any readers. If you are Christian or whatever you believe, more power to you. Keep on believing! The only thing that offends me is intolerance.

Which is the whole point: Religious tolerance is a really big deal to me. As teenager, I was forced to attend church, which I despised. I was forced to attend a private religious academy, which I also despised. And so on. My mother would worry herself sick to find me listening to rock music. And I could get in trouble just for going to the mall on Saturday. At first, I was just bitter, bitter, bitter. I hated everything. But over the years, I slowly came to learn tolerance within myself. As I came to befriend more and more Adventists of various viewpoints and characters, and as the immediate restrictions to my freedoms began to lessen, I eventually came to see that quality, moral, beautiful individuals—including, in time, my own parents—exist within this religion I despised so much. Having come from where I came from, and having reached this point, it would be beyond hypocrisy for me not to practice tolerance. But I also expect tolerance from others. You go ahead and believe what you believe, and I will do the same. If you ask me, I will tell you what I think. But it ends there. Your rights end where my nose begins, as they say.

So here we find ourselves in the so-called “Bible Belt.” Certainly not the first time I find myself surrounded by Christian beliefs I do not share or wish to take part in. Just as in Peace Corps, I enter the situation briefed as such: (1) Everyone will essentially assume you are Christian, (2) people will find it odd if you are not Christian, to the extent that it may not be advisable to announce yourself as such, and most pertinently, (3) attending church is an excellent way to gain entrance into your community. Now I do not disagree with any of this advice.

By the way, I found the argument on another MTC blog about point (3) rather interesting, but somewhat off the point and perhaps even unnecessary. On the one hand, I can sort of understand how someone might be offended if you advocate insincere church attendance with words like “entertaining.” But few people indeed would wish to shut you out of their church just because you are not a member already, as long as you show proper respect. The element of disrespect implicit in specific words like “entertaining” was clearly at issue, but it is unclear how many church members would actually prefer nonbelievers to stay out of church altogether if they have no intent to convert.

The point remains that church performs a major social function in these communities. And according to Ben, if you do not attend the black church, the assumption will be made that you attend the white church. The obvious conclusion has been put to us, and undeniably this is great advice for someone who is sort of agnostic or does not have strong feelings about the matter. It worked for plenty of people in Peace Corps. But it is not me. I just cannot bring myself to do it. As Ben points out, nothing is more annoying to me than listening to people talk nonsense, which is exactly what church feels like to me. So I choose to be myself and leave church to the believers. Trust me, we will all be happier that way.

I will: Be the best teacher I can be. Attend football games, basketball games, the school play, the catfish fry, etc. Love my students. Praise and affirm them. Contact parents pro-actively. Continue to believe in the sacred separation of church and state. Be honest when confronted.

I will not: Pray. Attend church. Say the “Pledge of Allegiance.” Hang “In God We Trust” on my classroom walls. Announce my beliefs for no reason. Try to convert anybody.