Archive for August 25th, 2009

Their minds are amazing. The simplicity of their logic sometimes gets right to the crux of the matter. Watching them grow and learn is such a thrill.

I met my wife and kids at the bookstore the other day. We were switching cars so that I could take the young’uns home and she could go out. After a few minutes of perusing such literary classics as Fancy Nancy and The Boxcar Children, the two rugrats and I went outside with the kids while my wife checked out with the armful of books they had selected.

The bookstore had some nice benches right outside the front entrance. My daughter eschewed the bench for the pleasures of sitting on the ground (“See dese ants? They are my babies! I yuv dem!”). My son sat with me on the bench and proceeded to chat. He’s a big fan of chatting.

“I know you don’t believe in god,” he said.

We’ve always told him that various people believe different things. He knows that the ancient greeks (among others) had a number of different gods. He liked the story about the sun being pulled through the sky by a god in a chariot. Especially since he knows that the sun is ginormous ball of plasma out in space. And we’ve explained the Jesus thing to some degree; christmas and easter kinda needed that part so that he wasn’t thoroughly lost when visiting my mother. But we never had much talk about “god” in general.

A while back he mentioned god and it occurred to me to ask what he thought god was. “He’s just this guy who invented nature,” was the reply. Not bad for someone with limited exposure to religious types. We left it there.

He’s been curious about this lately. And since his favorite past time is listening to the conversations of my wife and I, he’s starting to pick up on things that we used to talk over his head about. So he wanted to know about hell. “Some people believe…” we began as we usually do, “that if you don’t believe in their god you go to a place called hell where you are tortured for all eternity.” “That doesn’t sound very nice,” he phlegmatically replied. And he left it alone.

He heard the term atheist and wanted to know what that was. “It’s someone who doesn’t believe in gods,” I told him. “Are you an atheist?” he wanted to know. “Yes,” I replied. And he left it alone.

I’ve been reluctant to follow up with him on this subject. He is an extremely inquisitive kid, so I figured that if he wanted to know more he would ask. I didn’t want to indoctrinate him by preaching my set of beliefs (or lack thereof) any more than I wanted my mother to indoctrinate him with stories of Jesus. I hadn’t come up with any sort of official “talk” to have with him about religion, though my wife and I have discussed how we want to handle it.

“I know you don’t believe in god,” he would occasionally say out of the blue to me. “That’s right,” I would reply, always expecting the usual follow-up question from him: why? But he never went there. I suspect that he was pondering it, as much as a 6 year old can ponder anything, given their attention spans.

So this time, when he told me that he knew I didn’t believe in god, I wasn’t really expecting the conversation to go anywhere. “Why don’t you believe in him?” came the next question. Without missing a beat, and much to my own surprise, I replied, “Because there is no evidence for a god. No one has seen it or found any evidence that one exists.” He responded, “Oh, kinda like Santa Claus. No one sees him, either.”

Oh shit, now I had stepped in it. It’s one thing to have an existential discussion about a deity, but Santa? My wife was gonna kill me. She loves Santa. She’s quite aware that we provide “Santa’s” presents. She’s been up with me at 3 am on christmas morning still wrapping gifts. But she still believes. She loves the magic and the thrill of it, the spirit of Santa. It’s woo, but it’s fun. I don’t buy the crap about how when the “lie” of Santa is revealed it destroys children. I wasn’t devastated when I figured out that Santa had the same handwriting as my dad. For us, it’s about an attitude of giving and knowing doesn’t make it any less rewarding. All that being said, we weren’t going to keep the charade going until he went away to college. The expectation was that as he got older he would begin to figure it out. We wouldn’t lie if he flat-out asked if we were Santa.

Fortunately, I was able to steer the conversation back to the safer topic of god. As we drove home, he asked a few more questions about my lack of belief. I explained that I thought that the natural world was already such an amazing place that I didn’t feel that we needed to invoke the supernatural to appreciate it. I started talking about the wonder of the universe, of it’s origins in the Big Bang, of the evolution of life and how it led to us.

After a few minutes of listening, he said, “You know what? I’m with you. I don’t believe in god either.” This wasn’t quite what I had expected. “You know,” I said, “you don’t need to make up your mind right this second about this. I’m not trying to convince you or tell you to believe a certain way.” “I know,” he replied, “I just agree with you. God doesn’t make sense.” I went on to continue to assure him that he didn’t have to make a decision right now and that he would have plenty of opportunities throughout his life to evaluate the evidence and ask questions and make up his mind.

So for now, the Turkey doesn’t believe in god.

Update: Edited for grammar so my wife quits making fun of me