From Agnostic to Atheist

-Commentary by Marion Winik

Until recently, I wouldn't have called myself an atheist because it sounds more certain than I feel. But lately I've found the word agnostic is not strong enough to convey my opposition to the ripple affect of various people's belief in God. I am not just talking about terrorism in the name of Islam. These days, all religions make me nervous. Here at home for example, the box office figures of The Passion of the Christ.

"If we leave now," I half joke to my Jewish friends, "we'll be like the Goldstein’s who got out of Germany in '29”. Though I am Jewish by birth, I feel no more connection to the beliefs of Judaism, or the acts committed in its name, than I do any other religion.

I couldn't even bring myself to re-embrace faith after I had kids, though I see why so many people do. And I know there are risks in raising children without religion, like the risk that their teen-age rebellion will include joining one. If that doesn't happen, they'll be out of touch with America where more than half of their fellow citizens believe there really is a hell. They could hardly run for President since photo-ops at one's place of worship, and copious references to God in one's speeches, are things America requires of its leader. Lately, they seem to be the main thing required.

If living in a Christian county meant that we do unto others, as we would have them do unto us, that we turn the other cheek, that we don't throw the first stone, I would be for it. Though there are Christians who's lives embody these beliefs, on the whole it doesn't seem to be the gist of our National religion. The argument made to the Supreme Court that the phrase "Under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance is devise, reflects a larger truth about God. God has been splitting people into fierce factions for a long time.

At the end of the day, I can't raise my kids with faith because there is no faith in my heart. Some people think it’s grace to believe in something that cannot be proven. Maybe they’re right. Maybe mine is an impoverished way to live. But though I may not have faith, I do have wonder. I still see things that hint at the presence of secrets I do not know: the appearance of butterflies, the taste of peaches, acts of generosity and kindness that have no component of self-interest. Such things do make it seem as if something out there takes a fond interest in us, not just as a species, but as individuals. Though other times, that something out there seems just as intent on our cruel destruction.

This wonder doesn't lead me to faith, it stays right here at wonder. But wonder, I think, might be a gentler way to live.