Occasionally find myself envying people with faith and wonder how my life is different than theirs.
Be aware that most of what you see as happiness and comfort is actually just performative - they see that everyone around them is “happy” and their minister tells them if they follow the rules they will be happy. So they don’t want anyone to know how imperfect their lives are, so they pretend they are happy, and say all the right words and jump through all the right hoops.
Then you dig deeper and find that all their kids had kids out of wedlock, one is being abused by their spouse and is cheating on them, one disavowed any responsibility for their second kid they had with a second person who they weren’t married to…
You get the idea.
It isn’t all a front. The truth is that some religious communities do provide community to people who otherwise would be alone. But they are just groups of people with a shared hobby, not some kind of magic.
I grew up in a superficially religious household. This is spot on… it wasn’t a bad childhood by any means but soooo many things that deserved critical thinking or just accepting the pain of the situation were handed over to The Almighty. There are probably some decent coping skills buried in that level of faith but I don’t personally think it’s worth the cost.
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IDGAF. Seriously, the only time I even talk about religion is when I’m super high and one of my christian friends wants to annoy me. But it’s all in good spirits, we have friendly arguments. I never really feel like I lack anything just because I don’t have a faith. It might be because I never really had it in the first place. I grew up in a household where no one really cared about these things. My parents are Hindu, but when I told them (around the age 9-10) that I can’t believe in this stuff, they were fine with it. Unlike many in the comments, I’ve never really met anyone who was directly hostile/weird towards me just because I’m an atheist.
It doesn’t. I don’t think about it at all, honestly. Faith doesn’t play a role in my life.
If anything, I feel it gives clarity to be aware that there’s no higher being, and secure app inherent meaning or purpose with life.
Shit happens for no particular reason, and not because of fate or karma or whatnot.
Good stuff happens because of skill, hard work, and fortunate circumstances.
Actions have consequences. Not understanding this, or blaming some religious aspect, is stupid.
It can be a touch alienating; there’s a swath of rituals you’re now not a part of, either because you’re actively excluded or because you just no longer fit there (talking about church events and the like).
Conversations change just a little bit too–in the same way monotheists look at polytheists funny when they invoke more than one god, atheists wind up looking at any theist in the same fashion. By that token, when people realize you’re atheist, they look at you as a bit damaged–my bestie’s cousin blurted out “tf is wrong with you?” when I admitted I was atheist, for instance. In the US it only takes a look at some states’ laws on eligibility for public office to see that for some, the only thing worse than having a different faith is having none at all.
It can also be kind of disorienting; you spend quite a bit of time recalibrating your moral framework–what you consider right/wrong and why you take those positions. In this regard, it can be a bit draining too, dedicating so much of the processor sitting on your neck to a kind of reconfiguration.
Lastly and perhaps the worst drawback is how limiting it can feel: when there’s no longer a higher power to feel guarded by, you’re left with the realization that there’s just your own little mortal self and it’s depressing lack of influence.
But ultimately, I’ve found it kind of rewarding: ditching the need for a creator figure (and later, the concept of an afterlife altogether) has freed me of that dissonance that occurs when injustices or random tragedies occur. When you no longer lean on the idea that there must be an inherently just or attentive higher power, those bad things become a little less nerve-wracking.
And while I lose a some rituals and venues through which to connect with others, it’s a drop in the ocean compared to what’s still out there.
And that powerlessness we’re left behind with eases when we recognize there’s other kinds of power that come through community (nebulous as that concept feels right now).
Pretty well, it lets me do things Jesus frowns upon and actually enjoy my life instead of being a spiritual slave to a human invention.
I can’t think of anything I do that Jesus would frown upon. Leviticus? Yeah, I eat shellfish and the like, so probably he’d frown, but I think the main complaint from Jesus would be that I haven’t given up all my worldly goods and helped the sick and poor enough – and I don’t think he’d be all that mad, regardless. It’s not like I’m trying to make profits off money-changing in front of the temple.
I agree, I don’t need some 2000 year old book to dictate how I live my life.
I will live my life on my own terms and if someone has a problem, they can respectfully leave my life.
Doesn’t doing all of the things you want to do still make you a slave, spiritual or otherwise, to a human invention? Your desires are created by yourself or others.
That’s not what being a slave means, at all, so no.
You can always pretend you have an imaginary friend to talk to and that they will make everything better. The only difference is that everyone claims they have the same imaginary friend. That club is always accepting new members.
I’m a full-blown atheist. My dad died a couple of years ago and I “talk” to him frequently simply because I’m accustomed to doing it and it’s a nice thing to imagine. I know full well that there’s no magical way he’s still around and listening to me, but humans gonna human and there’s nothing wrong with having quirks like that.
I recall reading a study a long time back where researchers put people in fMRI machines to monitor their pattern of brain activity and then asked them to consider some kind of ethical question. Some of the subjects were told to talk to an attendant who was physically present, some were told to talk to themselves about it, and some were told to talk to whatever deity they believed in about it. The brain activity patterns for talking to someone physically present were different from the brain activity patterns for talking to oneself, but the activity patterns for talking to oneself and talking to God were identical. It was a neat result.
Edit: It’s not exactly as I remembered it, but given how human memory works I bet this is the article I was thinking of.
I have an intern. Whenever I am confused or angry about something at work, which is often, I just talk to him. Something isn’t working that should be, explain it to him. Demonstrate how I am right and the tech is somehow wrong. In the process I usually find the solution.
He technically doesn’t report to me he reports to the general manager. I have told the general manager on multiple occasions that he is to please do whatever it takes to keep him here because production would grind to a halt.
Get an intern.
I feel like, at their core, most religions boil down to two things, for most people:
- Giving you purpose/security/scapegoats (“I’m living a good life so I can go to heaven,” “the Lord has a plan/is watching over me,” “Satan/sinners/demons tempted me”)
- Dissuading you from inquisitive, critical thought (out of self-preservation, I’d imagine)
Personally, I prefer to define my own purpose, live a more “dynamic” lifestyle than is traditional, think critically, and question authority. Doesn’t make me “better” than religious folks, in fact they’re probably overall happier than I am. But I can’t imagine living that way, regardless of whether or not I believe in a magical sky Santa who can’t decide whether he loves us unconditionally or whether or not he’s actually omnipotent.
There’s that, but also along with it comes an enormous sense of community. It’s a lot easier to find friendship and companionship when you’re in a group dedicated to a purpose that meets regularly, and it’s a very attractive concept and feeling, even if people don’t realize it.
Spoiler alert: most people don’t really have faith, especially the ones screaming at you loudly how much they have it.
When you realize that, you’ll see that people are a lot more similar across all religions - authentic/thinking people from any background at all on one side, vs. those who merely “inherit” their beliefs without every really challenging them at all on the other.
Right now there are many people leaving a religion and going to atheism so much like lemmy/kbin it has that “early-generation” ring to it, but give it a few hundred years and dumb people who inherit it will just as dumbly smash others over the head with that non-religion as people have for countless millennia with past religions.
My advice: KEEP QUESTIONING! If you happened to come from a Christian or Muslim background, there is 1 Thessalonians 5:21 that literally commands that, therefore asking questions is in no way contradictory to whatever “faith” means - and anyway how could someone have that if they did not even know what it meant?
I have a lot more free time than I otherwise would.
This is a very open-ended question. I think most people view faith as a spiritual thing. Having faith in a god or gods, but if you believe in something strongly enough, it’s possible you have faith in that.
Gravity is kind of a stupid example, I’m going to use it anyway. If you have faith in the laws of gravity that means you genuinely believe and respect the laws of gravity.
Think about dressing up and going to some service every week and being pressured to pay and extra social tax. That will make you feel better.
Being forced into it due to family will feel bad. But if nothing else is going on, people might actually enjoy it. I have seen churches in the jungle and the mass on weekends was like a social happening like a party people were looking forward to.
Well it depends on what you mean. When I am being nice I define faith as “what I fear is not true”. I for example have faith in human potential.
If however you mean the typical meaning of the term I don’t envy them at all. I was born into a god-fearing home and I know exactly what horrorshow I left for good.
I can’t imagine going through life thinking that everything I love and/or desire will send me to hell or whatever. Imagine living in fear because you think someone is watching and judging you. No thanks.
I don’t see any advantage to having any kind of religious faith. Seems like it just limits your options and gives you nothing in return.
I miss the sense of belonging and place that comes from rituals. While I don’t want to raise my child in the church, I’m trying to find ways to include ritual and ceremony in our lives. For example, I don’t want to pray before meals, so when we have a family meal I light a ceramic oil lamp to represent our time together.
I have an atheist Jewish friend. Me and him were talking and he mentioned really missing Friday night dinners with his family. As we were talking he came to the conclusion that I wanted him to get to. There was zero reason why he couldn’t still have Friday night dinners with his family. Just like there is zero reason why I can’t have a Christmas tree. He and his wife and children can all dress nice, sing a song or two, and have a big meal once a week.
That’s the great thing. There is no one keeping score. If you miss something about your religious background you can still have it. You aren’t going to lose atheist points. Especially for harmless family community stuff.
This resonated with me. Community and ritual without the religion
Careful, this thread will likely be a flamewar mindfield.
When I was a believer, it was so comforting to be able to wash away (or at least calm) my fears, worries, stressors and other anxieties by knowing that there was ultimately a place beyond this one where everything would be perfect, and no matter what happened here, it happened for a divine reason that truly mattered. “Give it up to God” as they say.
Now I have to have real, present, in the here-and-now coping strategies (and otherwise). It’s also harder to meet good people and keep a community together if you don’t live in a populated area.