Thursday, July 1, 2010


Sean Moore posted a question on Facebook earlier today that touched me deeply:

“I’ve been thinking, as Atheists, we should all examine whether or not we are an Atheist because we were 'hurt' (use the term broadly) by a religion, and due to that we focus on anti-Theism, or if we want to abandon a belief/faith so that we have more of a chance of productivity in life.. any thoughts? ... by productivity, I mean going downhill all the way to abandoning morning prayers for making coffee or pop-tarts.. that's the lowest example, I think.. Hell, man, prayer is wasted time to me. So I make up for the time, even sleeping in.

I’m not a huge fan of anti-theism; at least, not when it’s manifested in mockery and derision (Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster excepted, ‘cause that’s just fun!). Still, theist dogma and culture have hurt so many people for so long that I can understand why a person would become anti-theist. But I am not anti-theist. Not pro-theist, either, for that matter.

Regarding productivity, it could probably be argued that there is good productivity involved in being a theist. Theism can inspire acts of compassion, magnificent works of art, and profound works of charity. It can also inspire unspeakable evil. The ratio of good to evil varies, depending on who you talk to.

I am an atheist for a different reason. Outrage was what provoked me to come out as an atheist, thirteen years ago, but that cooled. Which isn’t to say that religion and faith don’t sometimes appall me. They do, they do. But they’re not the reason I choose to be an activist.

A while back, Phil Plait argued that religion, like science, is a tool, a method, and as such, religion is essentially neutral.[1] I agree. Religion evolved as a way of explaining the universe; it went on to help structure civilization, and since then is often used as a means of subjugation. But its original purpose, explanation, continues to strike a chord in the hearts of many. They seek ultimate truths through their faith and/or religion. I, too, seek truth, and that is something I have in common with many of the faithful. The difference is the method I use to discern this truth. My methods of choice are reason and science. I suspect that many other atheists ultimately share this aspiration for truth in their decision to leave faith behind.

I frequently mention this when called upon to explain my atheism by theists. In my experience, admitting that we share a goal in seeking truth tends to establish a kinship that probably wouldn’t be achieved otherwise. It helps them to understand that, like them, I am trying to comprehend and appreciate the universe in the best way I know. And every once in a while, I’m lucky enough to be asked whether the theist could sit in on a Center For Inquiry discussion, or ask more questions about atheism.

At the CFI Leadership Conference in June, CEO Ron Lindsay mentioned that we’re not here to be “anti” anything. We’re here to engender mutual respect, responsibility, and compassion through science, reason and secular values. I think, as atheists, that should be our primary mission.

Many of us, myself included, have been hurt by religion. I think loss of productivity counts as a hurt, as well. I understand where anti-theists are coming from, I truly do. But it’s important to rise above the pain. There is a point when we must stop being victims and start being survivors. Remember, being a survivor doesn’t mean the wounds go away; it means that you get on with your life, scars and all. Anti-theism is a reaction to the pain, the suffering and misery, the losses of human rights. Secular humanism is a thoughtful response to the pain and loss—and maybe, just maybe, a solution.

Anyway, that’s why I’m an atheist and a secular humanist. How about you?


Amy Frushour Kelly

Thursday, April 29, 2010


Recently, I’ve been invited several times to “join” a Facebook group titled “Everyone Draw Mohammed Day.” Much as I appreciate the sentiment behind these invitations (and some of them are very funny!), I’d rather not be invited to join groups that ridicule people’s belief systems — however implausible these beliefs may be.

I’m more of a “kill them with kindness” type of freethinker. Making fun of people’s beliefs isn’t a practical way to open their minds or hearts. Gentle, respectful debate is much more in line with my humanist ethics.

Most of you reading this have heard Carl Sagan’s admonition to keep an open mind, “but not so open your brains fall out.”[1] On a recent episode of “The Big Bang Theory,” the character Leonard is arguing with his girlfriend, Penny, regarding her belief in psychics. Leonard is a skeptic, and she is hurt by his derisive remarks on the subject. By the end of the episode, he agrees to go visit Penny’s psychic with her, while Penny refuses to read a book debunking psychics. Leonard shrugs and says, “well, at least one of us can keep an open mind.”

That’s how I feel when I talk to theists. Be nice. If you’re invited to come along to temple or church with them, where’s the harm in going? It’s possible to respect the individual, even when you don’t respect their beliefs. In the same way, I’d rather not poke fun at personal beliefs. I encourage you to make an effort to understand the individual, to understand why they believe what they do, and make yourself available to them as a compassionate voice of reason, should they ask for your opinion.

Just my two cents. What do you think?


Amy Frushour Kelly

[1] Which Chris McDougal recently pointed out was first said by H.L. Mencken, another of my celebrity crushes.