southernhybrid
Contributor
When I was a young atheist, most atheists were in the closet, so when I met another atheist, like a nurse I worked with in SC, it was really special. Still we had no community, rituals, or goals to keep us together and help us expand.
Then came what I call the Angry Atheist Era, originally known as, The New Atheist Movement. ( I think ) That era brought atheism out into the open more, but it was fairly abrasive, at least at times and once again, it left us without much to give us joy or community. In a lot of ways, it was just a release of anger that a lot of us needed after being preached to by theists all of our lives. Still, organizations did increase at that time and it did become easier to find atheist companions and friends. I was never an abrasive atheist, but my atheism was a part of me, and I was always open about it. I did have Christian friends but saw no value in religion during that period in my life. I enjoyed arguing about religion in a congenial way if possible. Christians who wore their religion on their sleeves, or wore their crosses around their necks were annoying to me.
But, as I've aged, I've become far more tolerant towards religion, with the exception of the theocratic White Christian Nationalist movement, although evangelicals like my late mother, can be my friends, as people like her were able to cherry pick the sweetest cherries while probably not dwelling too much on the hell fire and damnation nonsense. We had more in common than not.
Now, I see plenty of value in religion, yet easily remain a strong atheist. I understand more about the attraction of religious mythology and no longer feel annoyed when a Christian friend uses Christian terminology in a positive way.
But, instead of being too long and wordy, I'll link to what I thought was a beautiful piece by Herb Silverman. Are we entering a new age where liberal and moderate believers and atheists can see some value in religion, instead of only attacking every aspect of it, and making assumptions about religious people?
https://thehumanist.com/magazine/winter-2024/commentary/herbs-corner-what-is-wrong-with-atheists
The following are some of my favorite parts of his article. I could relate because I had a very positive experience when I visited a Black church for a close Black friend.
Then came what I call the Angry Atheist Era, originally known as, The New Atheist Movement. ( I think ) That era brought atheism out into the open more, but it was fairly abrasive, at least at times and once again, it left us without much to give us joy or community. In a lot of ways, it was just a release of anger that a lot of us needed after being preached to by theists all of our lives. Still, organizations did increase at that time and it did become easier to find atheist companions and friends. I was never an abrasive atheist, but my atheism was a part of me, and I was always open about it. I did have Christian friends but saw no value in religion during that period in my life. I enjoyed arguing about religion in a congenial way if possible. Christians who wore their religion on their sleeves, or wore their crosses around their necks were annoying to me.
But, as I've aged, I've become far more tolerant towards religion, with the exception of the theocratic White Christian Nationalist movement, although evangelicals like my late mother, can be my friends, as people like her were able to cherry pick the sweetest cherries while probably not dwelling too much on the hell fire and damnation nonsense. We had more in common than not.
Now, I see plenty of value in religion, yet easily remain a strong atheist. I understand more about the attraction of religious mythology and no longer feel annoyed when a Christian friend uses Christian terminology in a positive way.
But, instead of being too long and wordy, I'll link to what I thought was a beautiful piece by Herb Silverman. Are we entering a new age where liberal and moderate believers and atheists can see some value in religion, instead of only attacking every aspect of it, and making assumptions about religious people?
https://thehumanist.com/magazine/winter-2024/commentary/herbs-corner-what-is-wrong-with-atheists
The following are some of my favorite parts of his article. I could relate because I had a very positive experience when I visited a Black church for a close Black friend.
And finally, I think the following is true. I know from experience that it's hard to herd the cats. And yeah. I know not everyone feels the need for community, but then why are you here and how hard has it been to keep this place going, while losing so many members into the unknown?I can’t honestly say that prayer is a waste of time, based on an experience I had on June 17, 2015. A white gunman had just murdered nine innocent black people gathered at the historic Emanuel AME Church, three blocks from where I live in Charleston, South Carolina. This church was once a secret meeting place for African-Americans who wanted to end slavery at a time when laws in Charleston banned all-black church gatherings.
The day after the murders, I attended a vigil at that church, where the entire community was invited to pray for peace, understanding, and healing. As an atheist I don’t pray, but I support those goals. I thought of the anti-war song Lay Down by Melanie, and the line “Some came to sing, some came to pray, some came to keep the dark away.” I was there to help keep the dark away by showing support for a beleaguered African-American community.
The service conducted by African-American pastors was heartfelt. During prayers I stood politely, but didn’t read aloud words I didn’t believe. I did applaud when one minister told the crowd, “Pray, but also get off your knees and work to improve our community.” I was amazed to see people singing, clapping, and dancing in the aisles with smiles during this tragic time. I could see that the members of the audience felt transformed.
Holding hands with our neighbors at the end of the service, we sang “We Shall Overcome.” I had never thought of this as a hymn, but it reminded me of when I sang it in the 1960s during civil rights marches and Vietnam War protests. We were asked to continue holding hands as we prayed to Jesus. I was holding hands with my wife, Sharon, on my left and a black man on my right as the minister prayed for Jesus to get rid of any hate in our hearts and replace it with love. As it turned out, I did come to sing, pray, and keep the dark away.
Later, I talked to people who also attended the service. Not all were religious, and some appreciated my being there, knowing I’m an atheist. I think it’s important to seek common ground with religious folks, which can help us gain their respect.
Most people of all religions and none look for community and folks with whom they have much in common. We need to find ways to meet the emotional needs of theists without sacrificing the integrity and intellectual honesty of atheists. We should not shame or mock people with religious beliefs, no matter how silly they seem to us. When we make fun of their beliefs, we come across as mean, ignoring the needs of people who don’t understand why life is the way it is. They are seeking comfort and solace. If we don’t offer that, we won’t be successful in dealing with them.
The category of “nones,” those with no particular religion, is the fasting growing demographic in the country, representing about thirty percent of Americans, and considerably higher among millennials. Unfortunately, organizing “nones” is more difficult than herding cats. My cats regularly put aside their personality differences, past grudges, and turf protection when I feed them cat crunchies. Can we come up with “none” crunchies?
It’s much harder to bring people together just because they are not interested in religion. We know there are many humanist and atheist groups that get together because they enjoy each other’s company, and often work on common causes. But I still don’t think communities created around secular activities offer people the same level of support as churches, temples, and mosques. We usually provide little solace in the face of death, no weekly charitable calls, and no sense of connection to an ancient heritage. We have no “one-stop shop” like a neighborhood church that goes back for generations.
So what can we do for people who have moved away or are moving away from religion? How can we welcome them into our community? We need a full spectrum of views and approaches to engage these folks.