From: bskendig@netcom.com (Brian Kendig)
Subject: Re: What brought you to atheism?
Organization: Starfleet Headquarters: San Francisco
Date: Wed, 7 Oct 1992 05:41:01 GMT

Jeff, that was a wonderful story about how you came to the beliefs you
have today.  I think that most of us fellow atheists have similar
stories of unanswered doubt; you're in good company!

[Talk.religion.misc readers: the story was only posted to alt.atheism,
but it's very much worth popping over to that newsgroup to read.]

This is a good point to tell a story of my own.  I've been an atheist
for years after having given up on Christianity.  I've been following
t.r.m closely of late, and, as usual, I continued to be shocked by the
zeal and fervor with which Christians would defend their religion even
when the facts obviously showed them to be wrong.

But about a week or so ago, I began to really wonder.  I've been told
lots of stories from lots of different people about events that
happened in their lives that are just too coincidental to be easily
explained, or about "intense feelings of love and truth" and other
sensations that people couldn't easily put into words.  Why hadn't
this sort of thing every happened to me?  If God ever revealed himself
to me, I'd be a convert in an instant!  Could it be that some sort of
deity existed, but that he didn't want to talk to me?  Or that I'd
been so devout in my atheism that I hadn't even allowed myself to
consider the possibility that he might be real?

I pondered this for a while.  What could I possibly do to invite a
deity to talk to me?  Why, try talking to him first, of course.  I
would suspend my disbelief for one night, and entertain the
possibility that there is actually something more out there than I
know of, and see if maybe I could sense a glimmer of it.  Maybe it
would be silly of me, an atheist, to pray; maybe other people might
consider it a sign of weakness, but I didn't.  I _had_ to know the
truth.  I _had_ to know if I were wrong.

Having decided this, though, I was still hesitant.  A moment's
soul-searching revealed why: I was afraid.  Afraid that the entire
framework of what I know to be true would be shattered; afraid my life
would become more difficult if I had to worship a deity.  But
eventually even this was overcome; like I said, I _had_ to know.

Saturday night was the night I was ready.  I knelt by my bed and
prayed -- not a "hail-mary" sort of prayer, but a prayer to whatever
might be out there listening, whatever sort of 'god' was in charge.  I
explained -- to myself, to the darkness, to Beyond, Christian or
otherwise -- how badly I wanted to know the truth, wherever it would
lead me.  I begged the silence for some glimmer of godhood to be seen,
even just some faint sense that there was something special around me.
In short, I opened the door of my mind.

There was no one there.  For quite a long time I remained there,
waiting and hoping beyond hope, but no god ever showed up.  Nothing
happened.  There was no rush of love and happiness and wellbeing;
there was no shimmering light; there was no choir of angels; there
wasn't even any quiet sense of inner peace.  There was only me, my
bed, and my dark room.

I've thereby regained my confidence in my atheism.  How can I believe
in a god who can't be found even when I go looking for him?  If he
does exist, then why should I believe in him if he hides from me?

I can't "wait by the door" by the rest of my life (otherwise I might
as well play a character in _Waiting for Godot_).  The best I can do
is to go about my life without concerning myself with gods, but I'll
always be listening just in case any god _does_ come knocking on my door.

I still don't know how it is that some people claim to have
experienced some wild stuff that they attribute to "revelations from
God", but I'm no longer interested in trying to find an answer.  If
God wants to win my faith, he knows where to find me.

-- 
_/_/_/  Brian Kendig                             Je ne suis fait comme aucun
 _/_/  bskendig@netcom.com                de ceux que j'ai vus; j'ose croire
  _/                            n'etre fait comme aucun de ceux qui existent.
                             Si je ne vaux pas mieux, au moins je suis autre.
                                                                 -- Rousseau