As an Atheist, as a human being I suppose, I pride myself on being rational and level headed. I have dismissed religion, political conspiracy theories, and aliens because there is simply no (or not enough) proof that they are real. I believe in science; I believe in what I can see, feel, and prove and nothing else.

That is until sports are involved. Especially when it comes to my beloved Stanley Cup Champion Boston Bruins.

When the Stanley Cup playoffs begin it’s like a go from being an Atheist to an Evangelical. I lose my ability to think logically and I become a slave to superstition. I suddenly find myself repeating or adjusting routines to ensure that my team has the best chance of winning. How can I possibly justify this with myself?

I don’t know and I don’t care.

What’s that you say? What I do in my home does not affect how my Bruins play on the ice in an arena hundreds of kilometres away? Blasphemy!

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I was at my parents place this weekend for dinner and I told them about my new pastime of blogging here at Canadian Atheist. My folks have known for years that I am an Atheist but we had never really talked much about it – until this weekend.

The conversation was positive, open minded, and non-judgemental. But my mother said one thing to me that I found very interesting. She said that she felt like it was her fault; like she did something wrong and that is why I ended up an Atheist.

Of course I found this to be an odd statement and I quickly clarified that, if anything, my being an Atheist shows that I was raised to think for myself and to have an eternally open mind. We talked more and I explained many of my positions and thoughts and my parents shared theirs. It was a good conversation and one that I am glad we had.

But the idea that my mother felt like she did something wrong and that’s how I became an Atheist stuck with me and got me thinking – I can’t be the only Atheist with a story like this.

So I’m curious to hear from you, my fellow Atheists, about the kinds of things your family and/or friends have said to you regarding your stance on religion and lack of belief.

What better time to tell your family you’re an atheist than Christmas Eve?

Honestly, I didn’t even realize that’s what I was doing when I told my family I wasn’t going to Christmas Eve service because “I don’t believe in what the church believes.” But I had said it. And despite the obvious unease they felt, my family didn’t give me much flack over the issue. Looking back, I figure that my parents most likely thought I was just being the moody fifteen-year-old that I was and that I was purely trying to get out of going to church. But since that fateful evening many Christmas’ ago I have only ever set foot in churches for funerals, weddings, and one baptism.
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As it’s Oscar season, I’m busy catching all the nominees for the best picture — which means I caught the critically acclaimed ‘We Need to Talk About Kevin‘ (which I was sure was going to be nominated in some way, but wasn’t .. and that’s a subject for another post).

Anyway, I enjoyed the film so much that I started to read the 2003 novel it was based on, of the same name by the author Lionel Shriver.  As I read, there was a quote that caught my eye and caused me to pause — it’s a quote spoken by the mother/protagonist of the novel, reflecting back on her flaws as a parent. One shortcoming she muses about is the lack of a religious environment she exposed her son, Kevin, to:

Both of us were lapsed, so it made sense to raise our kids as neither Armenian Orthodox or Presbyterian. Although I’m reluctant to inveigh that youth today need to crack the Old Testament, it sobers me that, thanks to us, Kevin may have never seen the inside of a church.

The fact that you and I were brought up with something to walk away from may have advantaged us, for we knew what lay behind us, and what we were not.

So I wonder if Kevin, too, would have been better off had we spewed a lot of incense-waving hooey that he could have coughed back in our faces — those extravagant fancies about virgin births and commandments on mountaintops that really stick in a kid’s throat. [my emphasis]

As soon as I read this passage, I had to stop — if only because it resonated a little too much.  Is my little girl — being raised in a happily godless home — at a disadvantage?
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