I grew up a christian and was raised in a baptist home (yikes). I am divorced and I have two children ages 11 and 7. I have only been an atheist for 3 years. My children were exposed to christianity from birth and still attend church with their mother, which scares the proverbial Hell out of me. They do not know of my change in ideology.
My question is, when do I talk to them about it? Even though I am an atheist, I still pray with them every night that they are with me. Now I realize this seems odd but, I believe it brings them comfort… the kind of comfort that is no different than my daughter’s stuffed alligator that she sleeps with every night… and talks to. I do not believe the alligator can hear her anymore than god would in our prayers. Am I misleading my children? or it is ok, to a point in their age, to make sure they feel comforted.
Dad of Two
Dear Dad,
This is very complicated, very delicate and there are many “ifs,” so based only on your letter, I cannot give you many definitive suggestions. I can only generally lay out for you issues of which you should be aware and pitfalls to avoid. Some possibilities I describe may sound worrisome, but it may turn out that this is resolved more easily. If I discuss something that is obvious to you, or if I warn you against something that you’d never even consider, please forgive me.
Children in divorced families are caught between conflicting loyalties. They are naturally loyal to both their parents. When their parents disagree on something important, the kids can feel uncomfortable taking one side over the other. When the parents don’t get along and even dislike each other, the kids end up having varying levels of guilt mixed into their love for each parent. They think in either/or, black-and-white terms. Understanding things like gray areas, ambiguity, nuance and compromise are for much more mature people. Even many adults never master these. So in the kids’ minds, when they are loving one parent, to some extent they may think they are being disloyal to the other.
The severity of that inner conflict and the pain involved is determined mainly by how conscientiously the divorced parents cooperate to mitigate it for the kids. In the best of cases, the parents communicate openly, and agree to make it clear to the kids that loving them both is okay, and that they don’t have to choose one parent over the other. Then the kids’ discomfort can be greatly reduced. It is also important for such conscientious parents to make it clear that it is not the kids’ fault that their parents don’t get along. Internalizing that undeserved guilt is a sadly common consequence when their feelings are not openly and frequently discussed.
In the worst of cases, the parents, focused on their own resentment for each other, use their kids as weapons against each other. They will denigrate their ex spouse in front of the kids, and even tell them to spy on the other. Meanwhile, the other parent may be doing something similar, so the children become ropes in a tug-of-war, or stones to be thrown back and forth, or very conflicted double agents. Many other metaphors would express the situation where more damage is done to the innocents in the middle than is done to the two enemies who are in conflict.
Your two kids, going back and forth between you and their mom are already caught in at least a little of this. That is inevitable, even in the best of cases. What you must do for them is to at least not make it worse. You may be able to make it better with patience, humility and selflessness.
Below are some of the “iffy” issues that are not clear here, and would affect your best course of action:
Are you able to cooperate with your ex-wife to promote the best interest of the children?
In the best scenario, you would first tell your ex-wife about your atheism, and alleviate whatever fears and misconceptions she might have from that revelation. Then the two of you would work out a detailed agreement about the children’s religious upbringing, about how things like prayer would be handled, and how you will tell the kids about your views.
I realize that best scenarios are rare, but if there is any room there, work with it. If she is not as willing to cooperate with you as you are with her, it may take some time to negotiate with her and to coax her to focus on realistic solutions that benefit the children, but also respect both of your needs.
Is atheism vs. religion going to be a very severe a conflict between you and your ex-wife?
If it is so contentious that it will cause the “weaponizing” of the kids, or make them the prize in a contest of who will “win them over,” then it may be preferable to not reveal your non-belief to your ex-wife at all. If you choose to not tell her about your atheism, DO NOT tell your kids about it with the requirement that “This will be a secret between us, don’t tell Mommy.” That would severely increase their inner conflict of loyalties, and it would most likely leak out anyway. A tangled mess of tension, guilt, confusion, anger and hurt would come from that. Avoid, if you can, teaching them to lie to someone they love.
Do you want to get the kids to see things the way you do?
As a parent, it’s natural that you would want that. But the question really is, how badly do you want that, and to what amount of conflict are you willing to subject the kids? Thinking that you will be “saving” them from the evils of religion would be just as regrettable as your ex-wife possibly thinking that she’s “saving” them from the evils of atheism. Both of these mentalities are based on a vision of a future outcome that is probably colored more by emotion than reason. They both tend to increasingly focus the parents on wanting to be right and wanting to have their own way. The wellbeing of the children in the here-and-now begins to recede into the background.
You have the right to try to influence your children, and so does your ex-wife. Short of illegal abuse, neither of you have the right to completely prohibit the influence of the other. If cooperation with your ex is not an option and competition is too destructive, then your course will have to be to influence them quietly by your example. They will benefit from watching you be a man who is true to his convictions by the way he lives rather than the things he says.
Regardless of the course you take according to the considerations above, you can begin being more true to your own views by not participating actively in their prayers. When they say, “Are we gonna say our bedtime prayers, now?” you can smile and say, “Sure, you can if you want.” That subtly gives the choice to them. If they say, “Aren’t you gonna pray with us?” you might smile and say, “That’s for you kids, Sweetheart. I’m going to sit here and think about how much I love you.” That is after all, what you’re actually doing.
You compared their prayers to a stuffed toy they use for comfort. They know that you and other adults no longer use stuffed toys, and they see no problem with that. Your subtle message is that this is a thing that people grow out of.
Over the next several years, you will have thousands of interactions with them where your example will be more a powerful teaching tool than a specific tutorial. They will watch how you think things through, how you hold back coming to a conclusion while you look for evidence, and how you make it okay for anyone to question anything. When you help them with their homework, you will be frequently asking things like, “Hmm. How do we know this?” or “Okay, what evidence is there for your idea?” You will be planting the seeds of skepticism and critical thinking.
Perhaps soon, perhaps not soon, the right time will come for you to speak to them frankly and openly about your unbelief. There are so many unknown conditions in your situation that it is not possible to recommend a specific time or age that is best. At ages 11 and 7 they are probably beginning to be able to understand the basics of what you want to tell them, but there is so much variation in children’s cognitive and emotional development, and so many variables in your relationship with their mother. I’m sorry that I have to say it depends, it depends, it depends.
When the time comes, tell your kids the truth about yourself. Don’t talk about God, talk about your lack of belief, and what you need in order to believe something. Make it clear to them that it is up to them to decide for themselves what they will believe as they grow up. Make it clear that it is okay for them to change their minds as time goes by. Make it clear that you will love them if they choose to disagree with you. That must be completely true for you or it will soon be shown to be false, and it will only make things worse. Be in every breath the man who speaks the truth he lives.
Dad, your focus on wanting your kids to be comforted at this age shows that as a parent you have your priorities in the right order. It means that their wellbeing is at the top, and your personal needs taper down from that. As they grow, you will be more able to accommodate your needs with theirs so that you are not constantly sacrificing being true to yourself in order to be kind to them. It will probably be a gradual shift until they are able to be their own persons standing alongside you, having learned by your example as you adjusted to their increasing maturity.
Your kids have an excellent father.
Richard
You may send your questions for Richard to . All questions will eventually be answered, but not all can be published. There is a large number of requests; please be patient.
I received two letters from non-believers considering baptizing their kids. Both are wondering about the ethics of the issue but they are brought to the question by different motives.
Dear Richard,
I was raised Catholic, but have not been religious for most of my life. I was fortunate to have very good parents who were happy to step back and let us grow up the way we chose. I chose to be good without God or Religion. My wife is Agnostic — also raised Catholic, but like me, disagrees with many of the teachings and representation of the Catholic church. We’re planning to start a family, and the subject of Baptism has come up. We’ve had very civil discussions about the choice to baptize or not baptize our kids, and she has slowly come around to the idea that it would be ok not to.
However, while researching schools here in Australia, we are struck with a harsh reality: in general, the private, Catholic schools are better institutions, offering better facilities, better standards, teachers, etc, than the state-run public schools. Research to date suggests that our kids will have to be baptized into the Catholic church in order to be considered for enrollment.
Now, the Catholic schools we both went to were fairly light on the religion (we don’t really have the same religious zeal here as you would find there in the US) despite the religiosity they express on many of their websites.
My concern is: we have the option to baptize our kids if we wish to have the opportunity to send them to a better school. Is it right to go through this sacrament with our mental fingers crossed behind our backs for the sake of the kid’s future?
Cheers,
Paul
Dear Paul,
By asking “is it right” I take it you are asking if is it ethical for you and your wife to keep your lack of belief to yourselves while having your kids baptized, so that the clergy and the school administrators do not know that you don’t believe in their god or their sacrament.
Short answer: No, it is not ethical because it involves deceiving the clergy and the school administrators.
Beginning of the long answer: Probably easy to fix. If deceiving them bothers you, just tell them.
I think that the clergy and the school administrators believe that the baptism will have its desired effect on your kids’ souls regardless of what their parents believe. It’s the initiation ceremony into their religion, and that is what they require to attend their school. You won’t be going to the school, your kids will. The Church will get to claim that they have more adherents, and the school will get your tuition money. The fact that you and your wife are a couple of disbelieving sinners shouldn’t be a problem. They’re used to disbelieving sinners.
It’s certainly not going to be the first time they have encountered lapsed Catholics. You and your wife were baptized into the Church and they consider you to be Catholics for life, despite your loss of interest in their theology.
If the two of you don’t believe that the baptism has any intrinsic power or significance, then to you it’s just a game that the priest and the school want to play. Let them have their fun. Scout troops, fraternities and clubs of all kinds have their rituals. If, for ethical reasons, you want to be straight forward and honest with them about the way you see things, good for you. Be tactful, brief and honest. I’d be very surprised if that would be an obstacle stopping your kids from getting into the school. The school Principal will nod his head sympathetically and encourage you to become more involved in the Church again, even as he puts your big fat check into the school cash box.
I’m also sure that there are many other parents who have similar feelings about religion and the Church, and they are also only sending their kids to the Catholic schools for the educational quality, and the schools know it, and they don’t care.
To keep it all ethically up and up with your kids, I suggest that as they grow into successive stages of understanding, you explain to them your views on religion and the real reasons why you enrolled them into that school, and how you were honest and forthright with the administrators right from the beginning. By doing that, you’ll be modeling honesty and openness for them while also giving them both the liberty and the responsibility to think for themselves.
Dear Richard,
I am a fairly new-to-the-cause atheist, though in my heart I was born one. My full acceptance of my atheism came about 5 years after I got married and my husband is completely supportive.
We have two sons, Ben, aged 4, and Eli, aged 1. My in-laws are very close to us and they adore their grandchildren. My in-laws are of two faiths, my MIL is Catholic and my FIL is a Congregationalist who converted from Catholicism. Soon, very soon, after my older son was born my FIL started asking when we were going to baptize him. Not being religious at the time but neither being aware I was an atheist, we baptized my son at the Congregationalist church. In this church, in the meetings we had before the baptism we were told that a baptism is the first step in a life of religious education, that we were in essence promising to become part of their church community and teach our son Christianity and acceptance of God and Jesus. My husband would be a Congregationalist if he ever actually went to church (never does) so he thought this was a good idea. I however was totally, knowingly lying when I made these promises. I was more interested in honoring my SIL and her husband as godparents and then having a family picnic cause I love family parties.
My FIL however, despite his conversion, feels that baptism is necessary for my child to get into Heaven should my child die. Now I know this is no longer the doctrine of any semi-sensible church, even the Catholic Church, but my FIL doesn’t agree. He honestly believes that baptizing our second son is a safety measure to count in his favor.
Should I go through the whole rigmarole to get my second son baptized when I have no intention of honoring these promises, knowing that my husband is not getting up at 8 am on Sunday to take the boys to church and that the purpose of said baptism is to appease a silly superstition that no one but my FIL believes in? (Though my grandmother would probably love it too).
I don’t see that baptizing my son will harm him or myself. I would not lie to a church this time, I would recuse myself as an atheist and make my husband take full responsibility. My husband doesn’t care about a formal baptism at all, to him religion is totally personal and internal, he just doesn’t want to deal with me getting upset! So the good to my father in law is high, the negatives to me is in principle alone, but I think the whole idea is just plain silly and superstitious. My husband has even said “Heck, I could baptize him right now if you want” but my FIL really wants the ceremony and the paper. Should I acquiesce?
Any advice is appreciated!,
Best,
Meg
Dear Meg,
In your case, your motives for doing this are to be kind to the feelings of your father-in-law and to keep peace in the family. Those are harder reasons to dismiss, and so simply being straight forward as I suggested to Paul may not be the best option. You seem to have found a way around the ethical dilemma by simply having your husband take care of it all. If it bothers you to have to repeat the lies that you told with the baptism of your older son, then let Dad do it. As casual as he is about religion, he won’t mind going through the charade, and Grandpa will be happy.
If your husband’s making or implying those promises that neither of you intend to fulfill still troubles you, then you might try to find a different way to give the kid his bath. Perhaps you could have him baptized by a church that doesn’t demand all these pointed assurances of continuing involvement with them, as long as your father-in-law is satisfied that the ritual was properly done. There seems to be a wide variety of such policies and expectations in different churches.
Promises are important to keep, and at the same time promises are made in a context. Atheists are a minority operating in very hostile territory. They are often very ethically conscious people, but they frequently pay a dear price for following the ethical principle of honesty. Promises they make for fealty to their family’s religion are usually made under duress. A set of heavy consequences can hang over them. The strong temptation to pretend agreement in order to protect themselves and others from punishment is very understandable, and in many cases, very pardonable. Agreements made in such intimidating circumstances are not freely made, and how ethically binding they are is highly questionable.
As free thinkers, we have to make our choices in ethical dilemmas using our judgment rather than following rigid rules like automatons. We want to follow a principle of honesty, but we also have a principle of kindness to others as well the right and duty to protect ourselves and others from unwarranted hurt. If we are approached by a man with a murderous look asking us where our friend went, we will lie saying that she went the other way. In this case, the principle of honesty is trumped by the principle of consideration for the friend’s safety.
Some ethical dilemmas like that one are obvious, but many involve tougher choices. Usually there is no perfect solution, only the best one we can come up with at the time, and we must take the responsibility for the consequences of our choice.
Lastly, there is a pragmatic matter. Ethics aside, each time you acquiesce to family pressure to do some religious thing, you may be buying the next demand down the road. The old saying “give them an inch and they’ll take a mile” can apply here, although they usually take that mile one inch at a time. After your father-in-law’s feelings are taken care of, who will be next in line? Only you know the complex landscape of your family’s attitudes and expectations, so you are the one who knows best if such pressures will increase or remain at an innocuous level. Just keep it in mind. There are no universal solutions to these puzzles. You have to take a guess at what will work and learn from each attempt.
Paul, your yet-to-be kids, and Meg, your two boys I think are very lucky, because their parents are thoughtful, are concerned about ethics, and are willing to find their ways through tougher choices for their benefit, rather than just blithely going the easy route without even thinking about such things. I wish all your loved ones good lives, and with you there, I think that is likely.
Richard
You may send your questions for Richard to . All questions will eventually be answered, but not all can be published. There is a large number of requests; please be patient.
I was raised as a full-on, tongue-speaking, fundy Christian.
After getting married, having a couple of kids, and generally settling into life, I started to question my Christianity. Over a period of a few years, I became an atheist. My children were very young at the time.
My first husband and I divorced while I was still a Christian. After the divorce, he continued to take them to church on his weekends. After I became an atheist, I no longer went to church but I never came out as an atheist as my entire family were (are) tongue-speaking, Bible-believing, spirit-filled, fire-breathing Christians. It would completely devastate them to think I wouldn’t be sharing heavenly bliss with them. So for now, they just think I’m back-slidden. They don’t know I no longer believe at all.
My spirit-filled sister recently preached at her church. Before her sermon she got everyone to come out the front and renounce their sicknesses. She said god was a healing god and they shouldn’t be sick. She said they shouldn’t accept sickness as it’s not part of god’s plan. So she said a loud prayer and there was lots of shouting and crying out to god during the whole experience.
I know this because she gave me a copy of her preaching CD.
Two weeks after her preaching, she was sick! My current husband and I were having a little chuckle over this fact.
My daughter suddenly turned to me and said, “Why don’t you just let people believe what they want to believe?”
I said they can believe whatever they’d like! But if someone says something silly in public, then I have the right to comment on it.
My daughter came back with the same statement and no matter what I couldn’t make her understand my point of view. She then started crying because she said I was attacking her religion.
Now, although I don’t believe, I have never told my kids what to believe. I’ve just told them to examine everything and not simply believe something just because someone else said it was true.
She’s told me she believes in god, but doesn’t believe in parts of the Bible… My daughter is still angry and feels like I attacked her. I can’t make her understand that I haven’t attacked her or even her religion, just something that someone from oher religion said.
How could I have handled this better?
Also, although I know this is probably wrong, I must admit that I am a little disappointed that she is just going along believing it all when I feel she should know better! She has the tools, she knows where the religion came from, and yet still she chooses to believe it.
Any suggestions or comments for the reader?
Is she being too harsh with her comments about religion? Should she refrain from making comments about religion at all in front of her daughter?
From the next room, I heard Delaney (7) sharing a conversation she had with a friend at school. “I told her I didn’t really believe in God, but I was still thinking about it. She said she didn’t know anybody else who…”
“Lane…” Connor said, then sighed with exaggerated patience.
She stopped. “What?”
“Lane, you really shouldn’t talk about religion at school.”
“Why not? It’s interesting.”
“You shouldn’t talk about it because you gain nothing and it gets all your friends to hate you.”
Unquote.
Pause.
“Nuh uhh.”
“Yes. It does, Lane.”
It took every bit of my strength to stay in my chair.
I had at least three reasons to be concerned about this…
Dale talked to his children about this to get more information and it turns out there is a bit more to this story.
The moral is clear, though: Children should be open to discussing their religious beliefs. The more they do that, the more comfortable they become about the subject.
If more children did this, maybe we’d see a future in which criticism of religion isn’t such a problem. Religion needs to become like politics in this way — a topic we don’t shy away from debating and discussing with friends, family, and even colleagues. The less taboo around the subject, the better.
Don wrote a very long and candid letter which I have edited here for space reasons. I have kept the details that I believe are pertinent to the challenge he describes:
Hi Richard!
I’ve been following your new posts on The Friendly Atheist site for a couple weeks now. You have a great gift of communicating sensitive issues so elegantly for many diverse audiences. Thanks for everything you’ve given the community! Your advice and tone is exactly what is needed in our society. Keep up the great work!
My wife and I both grew up in Christian homes/communities. We both went to church every Sunday and were very active in our churches. We’re both from North Carolina, right smack in the Bible Belt.
In my teens I started experiencing religious doubt and became more skeptical of the existence of God. In college I continued to become more skeptical. Soon after I met my wife, she began down her path of skepticism. We now both consider ourselves atheists. We’ve found friends (new and old) with similar beliefs and methods of parenting. We’ve developed our own support group to commiserate with and explore new ideas.
We now have a daughter, she’s almost 2 1/2 years old. Soon after she was born, my parents approached me asking if we were planning to have her baptized.
At that point I faced the decision to hide my current views on religion and do what I knew my parents would want or to take advantage of the opportunity and tell them how my views had changed. I did the latter and I still am glad I made that decision. It wasn’t easy and there has been some tension for sure but I feel good about being true to myself and my family. It’s no secret that my family is discouraged and disheartened by our change of religious views.
On several occasions they have made remarks and at one point even gave us a letter stating that they thought she should be raised in a church.
Now for the issue at hand. When my family gathers for dinner, regardless of location, they pray. This is perfectly fine with us and even encouraged in our own house. We respect other’s views and want our home to feel welcoming to all beliefs. We obviously do not pray ourselves but we remain quiet and respectful while they pray.
For quite some time now my family has been making a huge deal about the act of prayer at the dinner table and even going so far to slapping our daughter’s hands together into a praying position. At first we were somewhat alarmed by the situation and even remained passive towards them not knowing how to handle it. Recently we have started instructing our daughter in front of the family to remain quiet and respectful during the blessing, telling her that she wasn’t required to put her hands together or bow her head.
This has resulted in some rather unsettling looks from family members, especially my dad. It’s been very uncomfortable to experience, because I’ve always been so close with my family, and it makes the moments immediately following the prayer even more awkward. We’d prefer they lead by example, not by force. My wife and I have tried to take the high road and make it known to my family that we believe that our daughter has the right to exercise her choice just as they do, even at a young age.
The message doesn’t seem to be getting across to them and we’re not sure how else to handle it than firmly and in a potentially hurtful manner. While the specific scenario seems petty I fear that it’s a springboard for a perpetuation of similar events throughout our daughter’s life (and future children as well). I’m hopeful that resolving this issue now will preempt similar challenges down the road. I’m very interested in your thoughts on how I should approach this sensitive issue with my family.
In our house, at the dinner table, we take a moment to note something we are thankful for that day. I consider it more of a moment of reflection and gratitude for what we have. I also think it’s a good example for our daughter to having something to correlate with similar rituals, such as prayer. When friends and family are over we open the table to anyone to do what they prefer before a meal.
We’ve asked for respect from my family in a number of ways. We’ve tried to remain diplomatic and patient as they come around to our rather newly announced set of views. It’s been over two years now since the day I opened up to them and most days I don’t feel like we’re ever going to gain they respect that I feel we deserve. I’ve always been close with my family and never imagined a divide such as the one I’ve outlined in this letter.
Any thoughts or tips would be very much appreciated! Thanks again for your time and dedication to a very important topic. It’s been extremely worthwhile for me personally.
Don
Dear Don,
Your daughter is a rope in a tug-of-war. After giving your parents more than two years to get adjusted to your views and to show basic consideration for your ways in your own home, the time for patient diplomacy is coming to an end. This has devolved into a power struggle that focuses on your daughter, but it is really a struggle over you.
Step by step, as a teen, as a college student, as a young married man and as a new father you have gone through the process of differentiation from your parents that all children must do to become truly independent adults. The parents cling, and the children squirm. We all, all do this dance of holding and breaking away, and in the end the parents must finally let go. It is the way humans develop. You finding your own path included your atheism. Not all differentiated paths do, but yours did.
Sometimes the last stages of these struggles for self-definition are hard, and sometimes they are… harder. In your case it seems that there will have to be a summit of some sort, to finally and definitively establish your relationship with them as adult-to-adult instead of parent-to-child.
I think you are correct in your assessment that this is just the beginning of their attempts to mold your daughter to their ways and beliefs. Losing control of you, they will attempt to compensate vicariously through her. They will persist for years unless you put a firm and unequivocal end to it now. The longer it continues, the harder it will be to stop.
I’m not surprised that the prayer rituals at your and their dinner tables have escalated for some time now. It is presently your parents’ only opportunity to impose, through your daughter, their religious will on you. I don’t know if the actual incident was as aggressive as it sounds, but slapping or forcing her hands together into a praying position at your dinner table is way out of line. It is an example and a poignant symbol of the kind of authoritarian control over children that you and your wife overcame, and which you want your daughter to never have to experience.
I can understand your counter-measures at subsequent meals of overtly instructing your daughter in front of them that she need not hold her hands together or bow her head, and simply remain respectfully quiet. But I don’t suggest that you keep using that kind of demonstrative method. All that was really to speak to them more than to her. The main thing your daughter is noticing is the tension in the room. You don’t want to inadvertently use her as a pawn against them any more than let them use her as a pawn against you.
There is going to have to be a reckoning between you and your wife as a united front, and your parents, without your daughter present.
Before your speak to your parents, draw upon your group of supportive friends who have similar views and parenting methods to brainstorm specific things you want to say. Write them down in the form of clear and concise demands, and even rehearse it, having someone play your parent’s roles.
There are three main areas that you must firmly assert with them: the end of their parenthood of you, the establishment of your adulthood with them, and the affirmation of your parenthood of your daughter.
They will always be your parents, but they can no longer parent you.
Their relationship with you must include the same respect for your boundaries that they would have with any adult. They may make suggestions, but they do not order you. If you decline their suggestion, they don’t perseverate. You are in charge of your home, and they are your welcome guests as long as they respect your boundaries. It is reciprocal when you visit their home.
You and your wife are the girl’s parents. They are the grandparents. You outrank them. They interact with your daughter only in ways that you approve. You have the right to spell out what is acceptable and unacceptable behavior for anyone who is with your child. They must not try to use her against you, or try to covertly insinuate anything into her behind your back.
Your secular moments of mindful appreciation at your meals sound lovely. In your home, you can be as accommodating as you wish to be, allowing others to do their ritual, but no one, no one at your dinner table or anyone else’s, should be forced, coerced or obliged to participate. Quietly sitting it out must be anyone’s option.
Don, both you and your wife sound so gracious and amiable that I think the two of you can find a way to firmly present your clear and concise demands without being hurtful. If your parents throw a fit or become petulant, then confront them on who is being childish and who is being adult. Do not accept parenting from them and do not accept childish behavior either. Coolly demand, expect and deliver adult-to-adult behavior.
There will be tension, of course, and it will linger. So what? It’s already tense, but you’re being disrespectfully treated. Tension with acceptable behavior is an improvement. Mixing in, as I always recommend, a lot of that closeness and caring that you have for them will help to relax things over time, reassuring them that you love them, showing that you’re a good father, a good husband and a good son. And yet, without taking any of that away, you are also first and foremost, your own man.
I wish all the best for your entire family. Your parents have a gracious, loving and conscientious son. Your daughter is a lucky kid, and when she, as she must, makes her final differentiation from you, I’m confident that she’ll have learned by example how to do it in a gracious, loving and conscientious way.
Richard
You may send your questions for Richard to . All questions will eventually be answered, but not all can be published. There is a large number of requests; please be patient.
Amie Parsons, an atheist, couldn’t find any good summer camp for her child to go to, so she began a Camp Quest of her own!
“It’s just a camp, for kids, who want to have a camp experience without having the religious dogma placed upon them,” she said.
…
“We really want to encourage students to look around them and their surroundings such as the sky, the clouds and the sun,” Amie explained. “We want them to ask why and how.”
It’s only a one-day camp, but it has attracted 31 kids!
Next year, they will hopefully be able to expand to a full five-day camp.
That’s impressive. It shows how much one person can accomplish if she has the will and motivation.
A reader (K) recently had a conversation in which Santa Claus came up. K said that Santa Claus wasn’t real.
It wasn’t a big deal or anything at the time, but she worries about what would’ve happened if other parents were around, heard it, and complained. What if their children were present?
K writes:
My husband and I are not yet parents, but we have discussed many points of parenting, the first point being that we will not lie to our children. To us, upholding the fairy tale that Santa Claus exists would be the same as supporting the Jesus myth.
Is this every atheist parent’s worst nightmare? Imagine your child grows up to be an evangelical Christian or Scientologist!
Dale McGowan explains how to handle this situation:
As usual, Dale holds a view that I would hope others do, too.
There’s a difference between fundamentalist faith and an intelligent theist who accepts the world (and evolution and geology) as it is but also thinks a God could have a role in developing and guiding that world.
If you raise your kids to ask good questions and to be skeptical about what they learn, then you also have to accept the path they choose to follow. It may not be the same as your own.
The worst idea, I think, is to force atheism onto your children and tell them they’re not even allowed to even consider a theistic worldview. That’s going to backfire.
Would you be really upset if your child became religious?
Would that sadness be any different from that of your parents when you told them you were an atheist (if that was the case)?
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