How to Become an Atheist

I was not surprised that my Dad was having an argument. It’s not that he likes to argue, mind you. No, what he seems to like so much is having an argument. Over the years he has argued with township boards and county commissioners about taxes and roads and culverts. He has argued about the actual location of section lines and property lines. He has even argued with the railroad about the speed at which crossing arms descend.

So, when I heard that he was arguing with his son-in-laws church, I was not entirely surprised. What was new, though, was the topic. When my littlest sister got married (to this son-in-law) Dad freaked. It was not because she was the youngest (maybe a little.) She was not the first (or the last) to marry outside the Catholic Church (which was also a factor.) Actually, it was because of four words. That is how he finally put it to me.

I have the unenviable position of being someone with which Dad felt somewhat comfortable having real discussions. This is a skill I self-learned for survival’s sake. So, that is how and why I became involved. And that is how I learned it came down to four words. The words were spoken by the son-in-law in relation to the discussion topic of not being Catholic. Son-in-law made the mistake of expressing the position of actually being anti-Catholic. This is a far more confrontational position. One that his own dad and church seemed to support. And that is the context within which he said four words: “We have the truth.”

If you are following me so far, I certainly hope you can understand how that would go over with my argumentative Dad. If there was ever a person on the earth who was going to claim to have the truth, well, they better check with Dad, first.

I said all that to say this: Dad’s reaction was to begin a full-scale investigation into this other church. And that is where I stepped into it. So, I needed to try to understand all of this from the inside out. To that end, I found out about this “chat group” that Dad was in. This was several years ago, mind you. Chat rooms have come a long way since then. This one was more of a discussion/bulletin board and everyone was accessing it from dial-up modems and computers so archaic in today’s terms you would laugh. Nevertheless, that is where I had to start. So, I joined the group (it was exclusive.)

That is where I met the atheist. It is somewhat puzzling that he would be there. To their credit, evidently, this particular group wanted to have worthwhile and enlightening discussions about “religion” and that meant (at least at one time) to be open to such opinions as that of this atheist. In reality, it meant no one could say anything because this guy was completely obnoxious. They were open minded, and he took full advantage to the point of actually monopolizing the whole thing. So, what was I going to do? I got to know the atheist.

And in that process I got to hear his story in his own words. He served in Vietnam. He had grown up Christian (though not Catholic, if I recall correctly). And he considered himself Christian when he went to Vietnam. It was horrific. It may not have been for everyone, but this guy saw many things that would haunt anybody for life. And on one particular day, on a hike, his group was ambushed. The ordeal lasted about an hour, I think. It was not quick, anyway. And in the end, everywhere this survivor looked was death. Death of soldiers, comrades, and friends. One such friend died in his arms. Again, not quickly. The only relevance of the time is that it was long enough to pray. And pray he did. Hard. With all his might. Like he had never prayed before. And in the end? Nothing. Death. Suffering and death.

And that is what did it for him. He concluded from that ordeal that there must not be a God. (Actually, he would have written it “must not be a god” because along with god, goes Satan, angels, heaven, hell, and all that goes with it, if you fully understand a-theism.) His conclusion was based on God 1) Not answering his prayer 2) how he wanted 3) and when he wanted, but those are my words. For him, that was just the foundation. After that, it was easy to find evidence to support the position. Actually, what he “found” was a lack of any credible evidence of the existence of God in anything he observed and anything any believers offered. Which is what brought him to the group—technically looking for their evidence, but ultimately debunking, discrediting, and disrupting everything that was being said.

I never changed his mind, either. I just stopped following the group. I just moved on. At the time, I was actually fearful for my safety and that of my family. This guy lived close enough and was persistent enough to track me down, if he wanted. I didn’t want to attract that kind of attention. But, I also really just gave up on the idea of changing his mind—or even wanting to change him.

My own faith has grown since that time. I realize now that I was right in thinking that I had no power to change him. That would only come from a higher power. Could I have been an instrument for that power? It’s possible. But, it’s also just as possible I was not supposed to be.

I often think about him. And I pray. Someday I’ll know what happened. So will you.