Summary

The author, a self-described reluctant atheist with a Jewish heritage, reflects on their unsuccessful attempts to embrace various religious beliefs, ultimately finding solace in cultural respect without belief in a deity.

Abstract

The article titled "Faith & The Atheist" delves into the personal spiritual journey of the author, who, despite a strict Baptist upbringing, never felt a connection to Christianity. The author explores Judaism, Wicca, Buddhism, and even Satanism in search of spiritual fulfillment but consistently encounters an inability to accept the existence of a divine being. Despite a strong pull towards Judaism and discovering Jewish ancestry, the author cannot sincerely believe in God, leading to an unfinished conversion process. The author expresses envy for the comfort and meaning that religious belief provides to others, yet their intellect and rational mind prevent them from embracing faith. They advocate for mutual respect between believers and non-believers, emphasizing their own contentment with a life defined by personal choice and cultural traditions rather than religious doctrine.

Opinions

The author resents being preached to or sold a religion, valuing personal autonomy in religious exploration.
Christianity, as practiced in the author's childhood home, was not compelling or intellectually satisfying.
The author's fascination with Judaism was partly due to its connection to their ancestry and a desire to return to an original faith.
Despite extensive knowledge of Judaism and its practices, the author could not genuinely affirm belief in God, halting their conversion.
The author has a profound respect for the Jewish people and their culture, independent of personal belief.
Various spiritual paths, including Wicca and Buddhism, were explored but did not resonate with the author's worldview.
The author admires the certainty and comfort that religious beliefs provide to believers, acknowledging that life might seem easier with such convictions.
The author seeks respect for their rational conclusion to live without belief in a deity or supernatural forces.
They emphasize their support for religious freedom and the right to believe, while also asserting their own right to disbelieve.
The author identifies as a "Jewish Atheist," engaging in cultural practices out of respect rather than religious conviction.
They request that others do not attempt to convert them, recognizing that both believers and non-believers have made educated choices about their beliefs.

Faith & The Athiest

Why I’m Sometimes Jealous Of The Believers

Okay, so I’m probably going to get some hate for this piece, but well, whatevs, as the kids say.

In my reading today, Courtney Capone’s story about the religious offering her comfort caused her some concern. In her thought-provoking and deeply honest piece, she discussed how offering notions of “seeing a departed loved one again one day,” and “them being in a better place” is of little comfort to a non-believer. Here’s her story, check it out:

Things People Don’t Believe In

It’s not comfort… it actually hurts more.

medium.com

Anyway, her rant got me thinking about my own spiritual journey. Much like her, I don’t want to be preached to. I don’t want to be sold a religion. I don’t want to be lectured. I’m an intelligent person and if I want to know more about a particular faith, I’ll come to you.

That said, I’ve tried. I really, really have. And where I landed is sort of a reluctant Athiest.

I was raised in a strict Baptist home. My mother was particularly devout. My father wasn’t. He was a self-described believer without a home. He had faith in the existence of God but was open to other expressions of that faith. He was the man that would invite Jehovah’s Witnesses in when they came to the door to discuss scripture. Spoiler alert, they eventually stopped knocking.

Back to my mother. As I said, she was hardcore. Spoil the rod, modesty, all that. When I questioned anything, she brought out the rod. I was not to question that which I wasn’t meant to understand, she said. Yeah, that didn’t sit well. But I was a child, so I just filed it all in my mind.

Truthfully, as hard as I tried, as a kid and even as a young adult, Christianity never spoke to me. I never felt the Spirit. It never made sense to me and telling me that I just needed to believe was far from a satisfactory explanation.

I spent my 20s and 30s thinking maybe I was rejecting the religion of my ancestors of my family’s slave masters. Maybe that was the problem.

In the middle of all that, when I was about 23, I became fascinated with Judaism. I figured if I thought Christianity was off, maybe it was because it added on to the original, ya know?

I can’t explain the pull. Well, I couldn't then. But I spent a good 25 years on a path toward becoming Jewish. it wasn’t consistent, it was off and on, but it was always there, calling to me.

In my 40s, I started the process of conversion. I didn’t complete it. I could have easily done so, but if I’m anything, it’s not a liar. I know the holidays. I know the scriptures, I can stand before a Beth Din and successfully answer all their questions. Well, except one. I can’t seriously and honestly say I believe in God. There’s me done.

As for the pull to Judaism, I found out along the way that part of my ancestry is Jewish. It’s not something that was ever discussed in my home, and I’m not sure if anyone even knew. But through a DNA test, there it was and I was proud as hell!

I still have a great respect for the Jewish people and their resilience and culture. I still feel a bit bad I couldn’t go through with the conversion. But, you’re better off without me. I can’t bring myself to believe.

I tried free-floating spirituality. I tried Wicca. I tried Buddhism. Hell, (and I mean the literally), I even looked into Satanism. And I came up empty.

Like Christopher Hitchens (and Pascal), I am so made that I cannot believe. But there are days I wish I could.

There are days I wish I had the comfort of knowing there was a plan for me and my life. There are days I wish I could believe that I’ll meet my father again. There are days I wish I could accept a nice, neat set of rules.

There are days I envy the believers. I know life isn’t simple for anyone, but in my head, at least they have some comfort, some reason. They have some meaning to whatever this is. I don’t.

I can’t. I tried. I tried many times. Many, many times. My intellect will not reconcile it. My mind, however it’s configured, will not allow me to believe in any deity of any kind. My mind won’t accept faith. It doesn’t have it.

I tried. I tried so hard. But it’s not there. I’m not seeking. Not anymore. I don’t want ministering to. I don’t want to be preached to. I don’t want to be told how my sweet plump ass will rot in hell.

You know what I want? I want some respect. Simple respect as a human on this planet that’s tired, that’s researched over and over and come to her own ration conclusion. It might not be your conclusion. It’s mine.

I’m not evil. I don’t think I’m going to some burning place when I die. I don’t think I get my moral code from tablets Moses brought down.

I have nothing against any of it really. I’m happy that others have a system. I'm happy others have a guiding influence in their lives. Like I said, I tried. I wish I could be like you. I wish sometimes I could believe it. It would be so much easier.

I can’t. I can’t accept any of it. Not the man in the sky, not the exodus from Egypt, not the carpenter that died and rose again, not the prince that left it all in search of enlightenment, not prayers to the sun or moon or the great spirit. I can’t buy into any sort of supernatural force, watching me, guiding me, judging me, looking out for me and planning my life.

Yeah, no. Sorry. I’ll fight to my death for your right to believe. And again, I wish I could. But I can’t. What I see is nothing. Sorry, just do. I see a bunch of human organisms on this planet that get 80–100 years on average. No great plan, no divine intervention, just us, here, doing the best we can till we die and become the earth we came from.

I’m no longer seeking. I see myself as a Jewish Athiest. I honour the holy days. I celebrate Shabbat. It’s not religious, it’s more out of cultural respect than anything.

All I ask is that you don’t preach to me. Don’t try to recruit me. Don’t tell me I’m lost. Don’t tell me what I need. Don’t force your faith on me. You made a rational and educated decision to follow whatever it is you believe in. I’m cool with that. I respect it and your right to it.

But I don’t. I can’t. And I’m done beating myself up over it. I’m done trying. I’ve made a rational decision based on my own evaluation, just like you have. We’ve come to different conclusions. All I ask is the same courtesy that I grant you in return. I’m never going to believe. You’re never going to stop believing. Can’t we just leave it there?