Why Atheism Makes Sense To Me

I was brought up in a religious household. My father was a Lutheran minister before he retired after over 50 years of service. I went Lutheran upbringing thing: Sunday school, church, confirmation (which I just now realized is spelled so closely to conformation), being elected president of the Luther League, the whole nine yards.

And even though I never openly questioned anything, I had my doubts. I won’t claim I had them from the start, but once I reached the age of critical thought things began to look funny. For example, God made Adam, gave him free will, and then punished him for exercising that same free will when he let himself be tempted by a woman who got her advice from a talking snake. Incidentally, that was when men began blaming women for their own shortcomings, a practice that was perfected in Flip Wilson’s Geraldine skits in the 60s and 70s: “The devil made me buy this dress!”

Over time, I started questioning the whole concept of God. Ultimately, it came down to this: where did God come from? If everything was created, who or what created God?

Over the next few posts, I’ll be recounting my journey to atheism in more detail. In the meantime, I suggest you read DarkSyde’s excellent essay, What It Feels Like to be an Atheist, on Born Again Pagan.

We’ll talk again soon.

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