I’m an atheist. I do not believe in any sort of God, and while I actually enjoy some church services because of the community interaction that takes place during them, I feel pretty comfortable saying that religious worship will never be a regular part of my life.
I’ve been an atheist for just about as long as I can remember. I went to a Lutheran preschool and spent my years there learning songs about how Jesus loves me without really understanding who God was or what it meant. Once I thought about it more and talked it over with my parents (who are both nonreligious), I decided I was an atheist. Growing up in liberal Seattle, I’ve gotten relatively little grief for this.
What’s difficult for me is drawing the line between cultural sensitivity and standing up for my beliefs. Because of the places I live and the circles I walk in, being a nonbeliever is rarely a problem. Many of my friends are atheistic or nonreligious (or both), and no one I interact with regularly is the sort to start preaching about hellfire and damnation. At Whitman and in Seattle, people treat religion as a private matter, and no one really tries to convert you (except the crazy guys at Folklife).
Ghana is another story. Religion is not a private issue here. Businesses are named things like “Jehovah is My Redeemer Welding and Auto Repair” and “Clap for Jesus Beauty Salon” (I swear I’m not making this up). Taxis have large decals announcing their faith in God covering half of the rear window. Virtually everyone is Christian (though there’s also a Muslim population in the north). Nonbelief, as far as I can tell, doesn’t seem to be an option.
When people here ask me if I go to church at home, or what religion I belong to, I don’t know what to say. I don’t feel comfortable lying or stretching the truth. I want to say that I’m not religious, that I don’t go to church. If the situation was reversed—if I were a devout Christian in a largely atheist area—I’m fairly certain I would have no problem standing up for myself. But I’m not sure that’s a perfect parallel. Some atheists try to convert people to atheism, and some are very much opposed to religion, believing it to be a force for domination, violence, control and irrational thinking. I’m aware of the problems caused by religion, but I also believe that the bad things people have justified with God would have been justified in some other way if God didn’t exist. I think the bad actions undertaken by people in the name of religion point out the imperfectness of people more than the imperfectness of faith. And while I’m very much opposed to crazy people justifying things like terrorism, homophobia and abstinence-only education with their religion, I don’t think religious belief is a bad thing in and of itself.
Given all this, I’m usually timid about announcing my lack of belief, especially in other countries. While I don’t have a problem arguing with vehement American evangelicals, I don’t want to make Ghanaians uncomfortable or give them cause to interrogate me about my relationship with Jesus. Which is not to say that I lie outright—this weekend, I was staying in Accra with Rose (the Burro branch manager)’s family, and when her mom asked me if I went to church at home, I said no. But I didn’t go beyond that, and fortunately, she didn’t ask.
I feel ok with this, but it leaves me a little bit uncomfortable. Atheism will never be socially acceptable until atheists are comfortable coming out and unapologetically saying that we exist. I try to err on the side of sensitivity—I go along with saying grace when I’m visiting my conservative Christian relatives in Oregon—but I also try to be honest if I’m questioned. I don’t know if that’s the best balance for atheism, but so far, it seems to work ok for me.
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