The Fall To Enlightenment

A boy is born into a loving family. A family that is, at least on the surface, religious. As he grows, drastic changes occur in the family structure, but this does not alter the love he receives. In fact, family members further removed step in to fill a void left in the wake of, what some would call, a tragedy.

Fast forward a few years. It is time for the boy to begin his formal education. A decision is made, with the best of intentions, to provide a positive, religious education.

Schooling begins. Prayer, bible study, reading, writing, math, minimal science, physical education, and more prayer are the daily routine.

The boy learns. His worldview is completely encompassed by this system. On the weekends, he attends church. Yet each weekend may differ depending on who he is with. Different family members attend different denominational churches. Some abstain from church altogether. He integrates these myriad beliefs as best he can for a boy his age. He is impressionable. He believes because he is told to believe. He knows nothing else.

Time passes. The boy changes schools and locations every few years. New beliefs are introduced and further assimilated. His worldview expands slowly. It is during these transitions that the boy begins to notice discrepancies. Portions of his home life fail to coincide with what he is taught; with what he believes, yet he maintains his faith, because to do otherwise would lead to damnation. He is often taught, based on this belief structure, that the end is nigh. His young, impressionable mind interprets this as an importance on eternity and the afterlife, not something based in the present.

His education has now been shaped by many different people of "faith". Each teacher has their own interpretation regarding the strictures of their religion. Each imposes their belief onto their students. Those beliefs clash year after year.

Time continues its ceaseless march. The boy is older. Circumstances have dictated that he no longer attend private school. To the public education system he goes.

The boy's worldview is immediately shattered. He is different. What once was taught is now overlooked. What he has come to understand is now shaken to its core. He sees, and for the first time truly comprehends, that not everybody believes as he was told to believe.

His faith persists.
Life at home worsens.
His faith persists.

The opportunity presents itself for the boy to change his situation. With great trepidation he takes the chance to change.

He grows. Slowly he changed for the better. He is allowed to be a child on a regular basis. He misses parts of life left behind that brought him comfort, but those individuals will always remain close by. He does not yet realize that they're the ones who've shaped him the most, in the most positive way.

His faith persists, although not as piously as it used to be.

More moves take place with the passage of time: New schools, new friends, new experiences.

His faith isn't really faith any longer, but he still believes in what he was once taught.

School is now over. He is almost a man. He chooses to serve his country. He enlists. He embarks upon a new journey. This journey will expand his worldview to the breaking point and beyond.

A moment in time occurs that is singular in its significance. Not just to the boy, but to the entire world. It is the stone cast into the the water from which all ripples thereafter originate. Religions have collided in the most horrifying fashion. It is no longer history or some event taking place somewhere else. It becomes the present. It is reality.

Thus begins the fall from the mountain of faith. It is subtle, at first: barely perceptible. A catastrophe such as that cannot help but instill doubt.

The call to war is given, in essence if not in name. The man goes where he must.
The man's faith is resurgent.
A last ditch grasp for salvation.

It is a cold comfort.

His fall gathers momentum.

The doubt has bloomed to open questions.

The questions lead to realms outside of what he's known as truth. He's feels guilt. He openly proclaims to no longer be religious, yet nightly he asks forgiveness for his blasphemous ways.

He is a hypocrite.

He knows he no longer believes as he once did, yet yearns for the simplistic view he once had. He asks his God for peace.

There is no reply.

Free fall.

The man returns home. Changed. Again, he is different. The world no longer fits into its neat slot. The man meets a woman. They start a new life.

He chooses to educate himself further to better provide for his family. He knows what is in his heart yet refuses to give it voice. New knowledge is explored and devoured. His certainty grows.

He has stopped falling.

There is no terrible moment of impact.
His ideas have coalesced into a tangible structure.

His guilt evaporates.

He is at peace.

That man is me.
I am an Atheist.

I cannot say, with 100% certainty, that there is no higher power. What I can is this, what most people believe is, to me, absurd. Much greater minds than mine have spoken with more eloquence than I could ever hope to muster on why I choose not to believe.

If one prays and it comes to pass, God is gracious. If not, it is due to an unknowable, divine plan beyond our comprehension. And God is gracious.
You pray for guidance, happiness, good fortune, a new house, a new job, or success in an endeavor: thousands suffer and die all around.

What of their prayers?
What of eternal love?

Parables and fables pawned off as fact are ridiculous in every aspect unless they pertain to a belief structure.

The concept of sin is outlandish. We are born into sin? My sons, the most innocent creatures I've ever known, are destined for eternal torment unless they ask for the permission of peace, all because a mythical rib woman ate a piece of fruit that a snake told her about? Absurd. I want no part of this.

The idea that people, smaller than grains of sand when compared to an entire universe, can be so self centered and believe they are right when all evidence points to the contrary is ludicrous to me.

Denominations with the same religion cannot even agree with each other. Their books, the axioms of their faith, are flawed and full of contradictions. The answer to these questions? God's will.

The habit of the religious to accept only good of the belief as true while ignoring the bad, the inconvenient, and the contradictory is common. I have a problem with this.

The burden of proof is not on the Atheist. It is on the faithful. You've made your claim, now it must be shown to be true.

For those reading this, I am not attacking you personally. We must all find comforts where we can. We have that right. Be glad because many cannot claim that right. Yet I will NOT be afraid to share my thoughts. I do not begrudge your right, but as is my right, I will tell you why I do not believe. I will not murder you, stone you, curse you, set you ablaze, or brainwash you. I will let you, yourself, choose your own answer. It may be different than mine.

My enlightenment is not delivered from a pulpit. It isn't read from an ancient text. I am not divinely mandated. In ignorance of an answer, I will not claim "because God" just to satisfy my unease at not knowing something. I will search for an answer.

To quote Buddha, "I am a lantern and an island unto myself." My answers are not really answers at all, they are questions. They are logic and reason. I am comforted by what I know, by what see, and by what I do not know. I can always know more.

Not believing in a higher power has not turned me into a barbaric heathen. I still have morals and values and standards I adhere to, I just don't receive them from an imaginary friend.

Thank you for reading this far. It has been therapeutic for me. A type of catharsis, if you will. Be well.