An Atheist Anticipating an Arrival
By W. Thomas Olson
About a month or so after my wife and I had found out we had successfully united sperm and egg, we addressed the subject of religion and the rearing of our then zygote. Within seconds, a vehement argument arose between us.
My wife is a Hindu from India, and has a resolute faith that there exists a god. We were, nevertheless, married in a civil ceremony by a friend of the family, who, as a judge, was able to preside over it. We generally enjoy conversing on the subject of religions, respecting each others' opinions, but, with the news of our pending delivery, the tone of our theistic symposium took a precipitous turn to the bitter.
The mind of a child is so fertile, my wife pleaded with me. She went on, insisting that a child should be afforded the belief of a god while in such a vulnerable state. With the impressionability of a child's mind, I entirely agreed with her; but to cloud it with notions of myth and metaphysics, I maintained, was just the sort of thing that should be avoided. The discussion that ensued was a stark reminder of the closeness and significance of god that believers hold at the center of their systems of belief.
My realization that my wife's beliefs are held quite dear to her led to my urging that I too had a parental right to share with my child the world as I believe it to be. It took some time, but she warmed to my perspective. She has, of course, reserved the right to teach the child what she believes, but is no longer adamant about keeping my beliefs silent. And I'm fine with this. I married my wife knowing that she believed in god and never expected her to keep it from our children. I merely expected the same of her, and now I have secured it.
I'm obviously not an anti-religionist. Nor do I believe, however, that religion is especially good for anything. Though at one point I strongly believed that religion contributed to an invidious tendency among its more orthodox and zealous followers, I can no longer accept the cause of so much human suffering due to such fantastical notions of history, cosmology, anthropology, and the like. Acquisitive greed, violence, and territoriality of humans would proceed well enough without the religions of the world. My benign distaste for religion has been tempered by -- among all other things -- time, but also by logic. Religion can do no harm. Kids believe in Santa Claus and the Easter bunny, yet neither has been known to cause fights or tension between them. What is more, the counterfactual -- that is, the lack of religion -- in no way suggests that its absence might lead to a better society. The communist leaders of China, Cuba, and formerly, Russia, are renown for their oppressive and brutal insensitivities, though count themselves as atheists and, incidentally, quell most expressions of religion.
Thus my laissez-faire attitude toward religion and my enthused approach to raising our child in a truly ecumenical-secular tradition offers an easy medium. He'll know both sides of the coin and will be allowed to exercise his own intellect. I'm lobbying for the name of Noah for its patently mythical place in Christian theology. How's that for irony?
By W. Thomas Olson
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My wife is a Hindu from India, and has a resolute faith that there exists a god. We were, nevertheless, married in a civil ceremony by a friend of the family, who, as a judge, was able to preside over it. We generally enjoy conversing on the subject of religions, respecting each others' opinions, but, with the news of our pending delivery, the tone of our theistic symposium took a precipitous turn to the bitter.
The mind of a child is so fertile, my wife pleaded with me. She went on, insisting that a child should be afforded the belief of a god while in such a vulnerable state. With the impressionability of a child's mind, I entirely agreed with her; but to cloud it with notions of myth and metaphysics, I maintained, was just the sort of thing that should be avoided. The discussion that ensued was a stark reminder of the closeness and significance of god that believers hold at the center of their systems of belief.
My realization that my wife's beliefs are held quite dear to her led to my urging that I too had a parental right to share with my child the world as I believe it to be. It took some time, but she warmed to my perspective. She has, of course, reserved the right to teach the child what she believes, but is no longer adamant about keeping my beliefs silent. And I'm fine with this. I married my wife knowing that she believed in god and never expected her to keep it from our children. I merely expected the same of her, and now I have secured it.
I'm obviously not an anti-religionist. Nor do I believe, however, that religion is especially good for anything. Though at one point I strongly believed that religion contributed to an invidious tendency among its more orthodox and zealous followers, I can no longer accept the cause of so much human suffering due to such fantastical notions of history, cosmology, anthropology, and the like. Acquisitive greed, violence, and territoriality of humans would proceed well enough without the religions of the world. My benign distaste for religion has been tempered by -- among all other things -- time, but also by logic. Religion can do no harm. Kids believe in Santa Claus and the Easter bunny, yet neither has been known to cause fights or tension between them. What is more, the counterfactual -- that is, the lack of religion -- in no way suggests that its absence might lead to a better society. The communist leaders of China, Cuba, and formerly, Russia, are renown for their oppressive and brutal insensitivities, though count themselves as atheists and, incidentally, quell most expressions of religion.
Thus my laissez-faire attitude toward religion and my enthused approach to raising our child in a truly ecumenical-secular tradition offers an easy medium. He'll know both sides of the coin and will be allowed to exercise his own intellect. I'm lobbying for the name of Noah for its patently mythical place in Christian theology. How's that for irony?
August 24, 2002