Hi, I’m an Atheist

By Lanndis De Lallo
November 10, 2016

There was never a moment when I became an atheist, rather I’d never been anything but.
My parents (more specifically, my mom) took me to Sunday School as a kid and I vividly
remember not believing a word of it. When my Sunday School teacher told us the story of Jesus
walking on water, it was only until much later when I realized we were actually meant to believe
it; my natural reaction was quite the opposite. I thought the stories were weird, and funny,
and fictitious. I soon out-grew them. I realized that they weren't simply stories; they were lies,
and I had no time to waste on them. Perhaps ironically, we were far from a devout family; I had a
few prayers memorized, and for a while I recited "Now I lay me down to sleep" from a little
ornate sign, hung on my bedroom wall. For me, religion’s role was mostly benign. Sunday
School had primarily been about the community involvement for my parents, as neither were
particularly religious - my dad, in fact, was already quite the atheist, although he was keeping his
opinions to himself at that time. As I began to grow disenchanted and bored of the church, it was
easy to convince my parents to let me quit before I was to be "Confirmed". I had always thought
of Confirmation as indoctrination. As it turns out, I was correct.

Anecdotal interlude: My best friend's parents were quite devout Christians. They were
also the most scatter-brained, disorganized, and chronically tardy people whom I had ever met. If
I was sleeping over at my friend's house on Saturday night, we would be forced to attend church
in the morning. I didn't know where my friend stood on religion but nevertheless, we were
vehemently against going, so on Sunday mornings we would get out of bed excruciatingly slow,
and stall as much as possible, causing delays wherever we could in the hope that we could run
out the clock until it was too late to go. It worked many times. One fateful Sunday morning,
against all efforts, we were dragged to their local Anglican Church for service. I had attended
Sunday School but I had never actually been to church so I was surprised when they allowed the
children to come up to the alter to accept the Host. I dunked my bleached, flattened wafer in the
red wine and put it in my mouth. I all but gagged it was so disgusting. Whether my reaction was
from my not having acquired the taste for wine, or my body literally rejecting the asinine concept
that I was eating the body of Christ, we'll never know. I walked swiftly to the back of the room
and spit it into the garbage. That was the first and last time I went to church. 

At some point in my later elementary school years, I came across an episode of Family
Guy entitled "Not All Dogs Go to Heaven" in which Brian the dog declares himself an "atheist".
I had never heard the word before. I was relieved to discover there was someone else (namely the
writers of the show) who felt the same as me. Up until that point, I honestly thought I was the
only person (maybe in the world) who didn't believe in God. I had never been taught or even told
that not believing in God was even a cosmic possibility. As I watched the episode, my relief
quickly dissipated. Brian was tormented and discriminated against, and his family alienated him.
As absurd as it may seem, that episode scared me into the "atheist closet" if you will, for a
number of years. I’d like to make an important distinction here: at no point did I ever think that
atheism itself was wrong (because I knew unconditionally that I was right), only that other
people would believe my atheism to be wrong and treat me differently. This is why I was always
steadfast in my understanding of reality, but I kept that understanding on the down low. 
 Everything changed when my family moved to Colorado Springs in 2009, the summer
before my grade 9 year. The Guardian once called Colorado Springs the “Evangelical
Vatican” (did you also just quake with fear?) In my first week of classes I was invited to join a
youth group. I kept quiet; this was the first time I was making new friends since kindergarten,
and I couldn't risk being rejected (even in the name of intelligence). As the years wore on and I
found a couple people to call my friends, I became more vocal, more resolute. I began to realize:
religion is not merely a benign idea that people should have the right to believe without criticism;
religion is malignant and dangerous and should always be questioned and furthermore, criticized.

Going to high school in Colorado illuminated a lot about the “good Christian kid”

stereotype for me. The kids bearing that title employ their beliefs in cleverly convenient ways.
Some hide behind their belief, and others weaponize it. They use their beliefs as an excuse to be
discriminatory, homophobic, ignorant, self-righteous. Meanwhile, they truly believe they
are good people, on the feeble grounds that they are abiding by an ancient set of “virtues”,
supposedly endorsed by God. In my opinion, it is a fallacy to be characterized as a “good”
person when you are only behaving in such a way because you fear an omniscient God will send
you to burn in Hell for eternity if you act out of line, and will send to to Heaven (i.e. paradise) if
you worship him forever… oh! and be good too, I guess… but you don’t even really have to be
good, you just need to make it to Confession at some point to say you're sorry really quick before
you die and then you can go to Heaven. To me, that’s not “being a good person” that is (quite
selfishly) avoiding pain and seeking pleasure. I resent only being “good” because
someone told you to be. I strive to live my life with moral consistency, and to act in accordance
to my own moral values. I don't need "Someone" to tell me to be empathetic, and kind, and
understanding; I am those things because I know it’s what’s right. That’s how I want to be treated
and thus I should extend others that same moral consideration. I know many people won’t share
my point of view; many insist that it doesn't matter why someone is a good person, as long as
they are a good person. My point of view is that everyone should be rooted in absolute reality,
that is to say everyone ought to be reasonable, and as objective as they can possibly be. I’m not
implying that I (or anyone) is 100% objective, but I’m insisting that those of us who don’t
believe fantasies as facts have a better framework for understanding any topic with reason,
objectivity, and intelligence. Religion is a paradigm built on ignorance and that sets a dangerous
precedent. 

In my experience, I’ve learned three primary truths about the reasons people practice
religion; they need not all be true, but most likely, one or more of the following with apply to
every patron of religion. Number one: Born from narcissism, they need to believe that an
omniscient, benevolent God created them with special love and special consideration. They are
special. Special. They are made from God. Number two: They are anxious about their life’s
inevitable meaninglessness and thus they need to believe that this aforementioned God has
created a special plan just for them. They need to feel secure and safe knowing that there is a
divine plan which will ensure all their efforts are in the name of something big and important.
Finally, and most obviously; they are terrified of death. No one has ever known anything more
than their own consciousness, and most people are too naive and/or conceited to imagine a
universe in which they don’t exist. People want security, they want to know they’re “covered,
Afterlife-wise”. Again, they want insurance that all their efforts in the physical world will be
repaid in the eternal. All I see when I look at religious people is weakness. I see scared children
who, instead of basing their beliefs, actions, and character in reality, choose a fairytale, and a
(more often than not) racist, homophobic, and sexist one at that. Why would God parlay “His”
divine message in a book so riddled with plot holes, discrepancies and contradictions? Not to
mention a morality system so archaic and absurdly grotesque, that much of the text becomes
obsolete in our modern era. The text isn’t even compelling, so why should the message be?

I think religion is innately evil for many reasons, but at its core, I believe religion is evil
because it teaches people to believe in something for which there is absolutely zero cosmic
evidence. It teaches people that everything about the universe can be learned from a single set of
ancient texts. It stifles curiosity, and condemns questioning. It feeds on misinformation, it
capitalizes on naivety, paranoia, and shame. The entire framework of institutional religion is
based on valuing a select few, and marginalizing many. It is both the product and the perpetrator
of ignorance. It’s not right, and in my eyes, its negatives outweigh its positives.

This is my truth: I worship the complexity and intricacy of the universe. I revel in the
universe’s infinite mysteries, but I respect the validity of the information we do know.  We were
born from matter created in the death of stars. That is so much cooler than a fairytale any human
ever invented. I bask in the glory of my own insignificance. I don’t need to believe that a single
omniscient being created me to feel like I’m a part of something greater. I know I am. The
universe is my god. And it’s infinite. It’s funny that people think, as an atheist, I “don’t believe in
anything”; on the contrary, I believe in everything.