Photo by MudflapDC
Mira asks:
What do you fear? Do you fear death?
I appreciate Mira’s question because it always forces me to consider my priorities and do a little self-examination which, to be honest, I don’t do often enough.
My Past Panic
I recall viewing the life of an atheist to be like the journey of a tightrope walker without a net. Should she tumble, there would be no salvation from the tragic drop. Jesus was to me like a safety net that kept me from falling to my doom. If anything unpleasant could happen in the future, I had the hope that it would all work out for my good and that someone loved and cared for me enough to have a good plan for my life. Oh, and of course I would go to Heaven later, so really, shouldn’t that guard me from all fear? Sadly, this ideal didn’t work out well in practice.
As a believer who valued my faith as my most prized possession, I still feared just about everything: sinning, caring what others thought of me, conflict, loss, disappointing God by not fulfilling his will for my life, and the list goes on. Let’s take a tiny glimpse into my thoughts back in the day:
Does God want me to major in Communications or Marketing? How far is too far with my boyfriend? Is lying to save someone’s life a sin? Oh no, I missed church again! My sexuality is shameful, but I can’t stop desiring physical affection. Should I be Catholic or Messianic? If I die without repenting my sins, will I be shamed in front of God? Please God, tell me what to do! Am I sinning by feeling a call to the mission field and then not pursuing it? I don’t pray as much as she does; does that mean I’m a bad Christian? What if I choose the wrong Bible translation to read? How do I know when I’ve met “the one?” What if I don’t believe in Hell anymore? What job should I apply for? I feel so ashamed that I dislike evangelism so much. What if I’m not praying hard enough for my father to be healed? Could he die because I didn’t have enough faith? What if…? Which one…? Help!
One reason for all this anxiety was a lack of self-confidence. Because I could only trust God and not myself to be strong, capable, or to make the right choices, I was constantly doubting my own abilities and decisions. Not having a true freedom of choice, I was left to rely on guesswork about God’s will. If things went wrong, it was probably my fault. I was a fearful Christian, despite having a hope of salvation and love from God.
My Present Peace
Mira, I’m not going to lie and say I don’t fear anything. Here’s a nice list:
- I have a phobia of large ships.
- I’m afraid of someone I love dying suddenly. Because that’s terribly sad and difficult, and I don’t enjoy grief.
- I become anxious when confronted with something difficult I have to do for the first time–especially when I don’t know how to do it.
- I fear (or rather, I try to avoid) the emotions of embarrassment, shame, loneliness, and sadness.
- I do fear failure.
- I fear violence upon my person.
Do I also fear death? Not in the sense that I fear what comes after death, because I do not think anything happens except body decay and a recycling of my physical self back into the earth and thus the universe of which I am such a tiny part. I think the only times I fear death are when I consider the many horrific ways there are to die. My morbid mind has watched too much news and too much dramatic television. I don’t want to be scared, in pain, or to die without my loved ones around me. Other than that, I don’t fear death. I have one life, and that is all; that is fine.
Being an atheist certainly is living life on a wire. Instead of fearing a fall to the ground, I train harder, try to make better decisions, and concentrate on building myself and my confidence so I can make it across. No one–and no net–is going to save me.
Is this scary? I don’t think so. In fact, I am happier about who I am and what value I hold even more than when I claimed the Creator of the Universe loved me and spoke to me on a personal basis. My ego has shrunk, and reality has helped me live a better life.
No one has a plan for my life but me. My choices are my own. My mistakes don’t have eternal consequences and rewards; they have real consequences, and I need to care about them. I don’t have to guess what some other person thinks is right or wrong; I am responsible unto myself and the law of the land.
Photo by Andrew Morrell Photography
A good friend of mine has offered me the opportunity to present a reading at her wedding. She’s also given me the option of choosing the reading myself. I’d love to be able to come to her with some ideas, but I need some help!
What would you recommend I read at a secular wedding ceremony?
photo by Paul Kelly
I’m sorry I haven’t been writing actively as of late. I sit here in my chair after a weekend of relaxation, escape, and nature only to find myself back in the machinery of life—the mechanical nature of my habits, my job, and my schedules.
And it makes me ponder a bit. I’ve found myself falling into an apathy related to my atheism lately that I’m not sure should be there. I’ve attempted to explain why atheism isn’t a big deal. Even with the mentality that our non-belief is just fine, normal, and not worth a huge stink, I still feel a smoldering passion within my gut when I consider my own story, my past, and the plight of other non-believers who truly are struggling in their current situations. For instance, I received an email this week from a distressed reader:
Over the past year I have began to question my beliefs that I have had since childhood and I’m down right confused and ridden with guilt mainly… Waiting to be “struck” down I suppose. I am working through it slowly, but being married to a “minister” doesnt help.. again.. riddled with guilt… and fear.
It breaks my heart that the search for truth leaves anyone feeling this way, but it especially pains me to hear it from someone who is afraid to leave religion and faith behind. I know just how conditioned Christians (like my past self) are to fear doubt and deviation from the faith. The guilt is tremendous, and it feels like failure to be going against something you’ve been accepting as an authority all your life. I remember hearing that small voice in my head that told me I was “just rebelling” or “going through a doubting phase” or that I shouldn’t make any certain decisions based on my doubts because I could be punished (for lack of a better word) by God for straying and not being strong enough in my devotion. I recall those emotions with a shudder and a sigh.
No one should feel this way.
It’s becoming more clear to me that I may not care as much about debating theology or commenting about other beliefs I find ridiculous (as fun as that may be—especially on the internet when the quick jab and the snarky wit are king) as others do. Instead, I am coming to deeply care about the journeys and stories of others in the atheist community. Where have we come from, and where are we going? Do we have enough support and friendship to spare for those who are not quite strong enough to go it alone? Can we move forward together? Is my dream of atheist community just a silly, romantic, and futile idea in this period of individualistic living?
So I may not be writing much, but I’m still figuring this whole atheism thing out… day by day. As we all are.
What do you think is the secret to a good life?
I firmly believe that a “good life” is defined solely by each individual, so that’s what makes this questions so intriguing to me. I think it reveals what people want most out of life: is it romantic love and companionship? Do they want a legacy and people to remember them after they die? Do they want adventure and stories to tell? What about money and success? All of these “good lives” would provide different answers for the question, don’t you think?
What is “a good life” to you, and what’s the secret for having it?
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