Cary’s classic column THURSDAY, OCT 4, 2007 03:10 AM PDT
I don’t believe in God but I want to allay her fears.
Hi,
I am the father of a 13-year-old daughter whose mother has been taking her to an evangelical Christian church her whole life. Her mother’s family is entirely Christian. I am not a Christian, and in fact think that organized religion is actively harmful to her development into a rational adult. None of my friends are Christian, nor any of my family.
Her mother and I split up right before she was born, but I have been an active parent. She lived with me for fifth and seventh grades and has been with me every summer and every other holiday. Right now, I have her every other weekend. Religion is not the only issue her mother and I have had, but until this point we have been able to compromise and get along with each other pretty well.
As my daughter gets older, however, she has started to become fearful that because I am not a Christian, I am going to hell. When I try to explain my beliefs (that I don’t believe in God or a higher power), she cries. I am certainly not trying to deny her mother the right to take her to church, but I don’t want to cut my two weekends a month with her short to take her back to her mother’s to attend church. Nor do I want her mother telling her that I am going to hell.
It has gotten to the point that if I even try to broach the subject of religion (mentioning my belief in evolution or that homosexuals are not sinners), it upsets my daughter greatly. Obviously, this is not what I want, but I do want to be able to communicate to her what I believe.
Her mom thinks that I am denying her freedom by not taking her to church on the weekends that I have her, but I am just trying to help her see that other people believe other things and that having an open mind is a good thing.
What am I doing wrong? And more important, how can I talk to my daughter about this without making her cry?
Unholy Father
Dear Unholy Father,
Does football exist?
Some would argue no. Surely they have heard people speak of football and argue forcibly about its rules and the conduct of its games. But they have never been to a game and would never go to a game because to them football is a mass illusion with a peculiar, inexplicable allure for millions of clueless fools, on whose hard-earned dollars certain unscrupulous people get very rich.
If your daughter is not a football fan she might argue thus. Moreover, she might argue, football is harmful to the development of a peaceful, nonviolent culture.
To which you might respond, well, if football does not exist then how can it be harmful?
And she would say, well, people gather to watch games, but what they are watching is not really football. It is just a bunch of people believing in football. There is no actual football. It is an illusion, a group hallucination. But it warps people’s minds and diverts them from more important things.
To which you might reply, Have you ever been to a friggin’ game? How can you say that? What can this thing that we are doing possibly be if it is not football?
Well, she might say, that’s your problem. All I know is that football does not exist, and if it did exist, I’d know.
How can you know unless you go to a game? you’d ask her in exasperation. Moreover, how can you know what goes on there after just one game? You would need to attend games regularly for maybe several years, or at least a couple of seasons, before you could really feel you know what’s going on there!
Exactly.
What I am trying to say is, the way to help your daughter grow is not to debate the existence of God. It is to go to church with your daughter and experience what she is experiencing.
You can argue about who is winning and who is losing. But at least watch the game.
Her problem is not that she believes in God. It’s that she believes you are going to burn in hell when you die. It’s her concern for you, and her fear for you, that are the problem. She wants to believe otherwise but has no solid grounds on which to place any hope. If you go to church with her, you will make it possible for her to believe that there is at least a chance that you will not burn in hell. From this she will derive great benefit. It will give her some peace of mind. The peace of mind she derives from it will help her in her schoolwork and in her relationships with others. It will help her sleep at night and it will improve her attitude toward you. It will be one less complaint she has against you. It will be one less wedge her mother can use between you. And it will be the only way you will ever be able to argue with her about religion with any credibility, should you choose to do so when she gets older.
Now is not the time to argue with her about religion. Now is the time to strengthen your bond with your daughter by participating in things that matter to her, by showing her that you respect the way she lives her life and by showing her that you have an open mind.
But don’t just go to church with her. Meet with one of the officials. That’s right, wander right down on to the field and speak with one of the guys in the striped shirts. Or whatever they wear. Arrange a private conference. In this private conference, you can say whatever you like. It doesn’t matter really. It might be a good conversation or it might be utterly ridiculous. But show your daughter that you are willing to engage with one of the people she respects. Show her that you have enough humility and independence of spirit to engage, that you are not fearful or dogmatic or close-minded.
In your own mind, you might approach the matter as a consumer. Don’t be glib with the official or you may be ejected. But in your own mind, think of salvation, or “eternal life,” as a product.
How is this product obtained? Are there instances in which people are granted “eternal life” at random, or must every grant be preceded by an act of faith, or surrender? Are there exact words one must use to close the deal, or will any words to the effect of “I’m in!” suffice? Would a silent act of surrender suffice? If a silent act of surrender would suffice, then is it possible that you have already been saved? And, once granted, can this product be recalled? For instance, what if a child were to be a fervent believer and then later lost his belief? Would that initial belief still grant him eternal life? Go over the terms and conditions, as it were.
Once you have done this, and conversed with an official, you might be able to confidently tell your daughter, without going into specifics, that you think everything is going to be OK, eternal-life-wise. She would probably appreciate that.
13 is plenty old enough to grasp the concept that there is more than one faith in the world, and nobody has yet cornered the market on Truth. Tell her to stop worrying about you, because you know you’re fine. Suggest that while her mother has every right to follow her own spiritual path, she may not be the final authority in all philosophical matters, and neither is the pastor of Mom’s church. Remind her that you have the right to seek your own path just as much as her mother does, and that, in fact, so does she, your daughter herself. And that by the time she’s your age, her path might turn out to follow neither Mom’s nor Dad’s, and you will love her just the same. (And so will God, if any.)
Great post, Cary. I am down with the spirituality part, but after reading your post I think I better watch some football games to bond with my oldest son–actually all three of my kids watch sports, even my daughter. I don’t even have cable. No wonder they think I am a little off the wall and are concerned for my sanity.
No seriously, you are spot on that the most important thing is to share experiences with your children and debate later. Establishing bonds, not asserting whose beliefs are more true is the path to harmony and peace among families, faiths, and diverse cultures. There are many paths and so much that is unknowable. Unity first, then speak of differences from a starting point of common ground. Only then can true empathy and compassion emerge. I am getting cable before Christmas!
Great subject! I started as a spiritual believer, became an ardent Christianity hater (because of what it did do my mom as mitigated by her mom), very briefly an agnostic and then atheist, quickly returning to spirituality. I think that’s an example of a path of discovery. Now I attend UU with considerable satisfaction. Who knew?
I imagine, there are some churches/temples that are OK, even for atheists, (according to two atheistic friends) and they provide community and a certain kind of depth (that stuff that is under the surface and so archetypal).
I feel that even being an atheist isn’t really so cut-and-dried; there is still some room for, what I would refer to as, a secu-spiritual journey. In my experience it’s very enriching. This could be a call for someone like the dad to embark on a journey of personal deepening that is shared with the child. It could change the tenor of the issue from a one-note problem to a symphonic solution.
I wish this site had an option for liking or upvoting or whatever. I would just “like” all over every sentence of this.
Hi there! There are some like buttons at the end of my reply up there … Is that what you mean? You can click those for Facebook likes and stuff like that. Please do! (IF you feel it)–ct
I love these responses. I haven’t been around here much lately, as I’m deep in some other projects, but it feels great to visit and hear these clear, open voices. I took a lot of guff when this was first published on Salon.com. And I understand how it could be pure torture for an atheist to have to sit through certain things. But I’m glad you tolerate my basic idea.
By the way, isn’t the situation in “The Good Wife” interesting, with the daughter who’s all into Christianity and Alicia, the mom, who just kinda really could do without it? Anyway, I so love it when people read and respond to these columns and was glad to read your thoughts. Thank you.
–Cary T.
I feel for the dad so much, and I can understand his dilemma. I hope that he has eased his daughter’s mind about his eternal damnation without having to pretend to believe in all that. Both my husband and I were raised within (completely different) religions that we left when we could and consciously raised our kids without any dogma but plenty of golden rule and compassion for others. One has grown up to be an atheist, one has grown up to be a born again Christian. And we’re all good with what we all are. If our born again child worries about our eternal souls, it’s well hidden. Good luck, Dad. If you can go to church with her, go. I know it would be hard for me in that situation, but it probably would mean a lot to her. As she gets older, she may start to question why a loving god would be so exclusionary and punitive. She’ll need someone to talk to that she can trust and you could be a safe place for her to express her doubts and show her that you don’t need to follow a certain religion to be a good person.
I was sent to an evangelical school from 7th grade on, and it really screwed me up. The problem is, a child the daughter’s age already has so much angst, and when a “heaven or hell” concern gets added to the daily concerns of trying to cope with adolescence, and then Mom’s criticism of Dad for his lack of faith gets piled on top of that, the poor child is overwhelmed. She thinks the solution is to turn her Dad into a Christian. She hopes that after that, she won’t feel anxious all the time.
The best thing to do for this girl is to ease her anxiety. Go to church with her, as Cary suggests, and after church tell her one or two tiny things you agreed with and that you’ll think about. Maybe there was a “love thy neighbor” somewhere in there. Don’t go into any philosophical debate with her. It’s not an intellectual issue for her even if it seems like it is; it’s an emotional one. Debating about religion will make her more anxious because she’s afraid if she can’t talk you into it, she’s just sent you to hell. Just love her. Give her the little bit of shared church time, and then spend the rest of the time doing things that calm her down: take a hike, laugh at a silly movie, etc. Get her through this with love. It took me decades to internalize that that is what the whole Jesus thing was supposed to be about. The early and heavy handed introduction to evangelicalism (which I don’t equate with true Christianity) was scarring.
I agree with AE as well (I’m a Christian, the ultra liberal, I love everybody, there is no hell, don’t go to church kind), perhaps a trade is in order? If you attend church, she will in return listen to your views without prejudice (as much as a 13 year old can.) The critical lesson here is tolerance and at 13, she needs to learn it however you decide to teach her.
Cary, I often disagree with your advice but on this one I love “It is to go to church with your daughter and experience what she is experiencing.”
The daughter believes for whatever reason in the evangelical take on Christianity. The BIGGEST act of love would be to go to her level and experience it and be a knowledgable conversationalist about what she is hearing and experiencing. You two can disagree but by the LW’s participation he’s teaching her a ton about love, the tough really rare kind that hopefully family provides.
This is excellent advice. I also think it’s really important to hear what Cary is saying about not letting this issue become a wedge issue with her mother. She should not be telling you what to do on “your” weekends and by taking your daughter to the church you remove the issue (hopefully!) Be aware of the signs of parental alienation. It’s not something that happens only in early childhood, when kids are shifting and evolving so rapidly in the teenage years, they are more susceptible to alienation. Most of all, comfort your daughter by whatever means necessary.
I see where you are going with this Cary. I think the advice is sound and compassionate. However, as an Atheist I can not imagine a more torturous day than having to sit through some fire and brimstone on a perfectly good Sunday morning. I like the idea of the father respecting his daughter’s beliefs enough to do so, though. There should be a trade, however. Something like tolerance needs to be required of her also. That is a value that is important to the father and should be respected. I don’t know how old the daughter is, but I have two, and they are very clever.
AE, I love this. Go and participate in her rituals and have her participate in the father’s, even if it’s fishing or hiking or volunteering, some way to connect with the larger world.