Why Don’t I Believe in God?
I am often amazed at how often my lack of faith in a supreme being comes up in conversation and how often people are taken back by the fact that I am not only not a Christian, but do not believe in God. So, in this blog I hope to give you the best explanation I can about this.
First, let me say I do not think anyone who professes a faith to be ignorant. On the contrary, I am totally open to the fact that I may be making a big error in logic. I was not taught at the world’s finest education institutions, but many who were do profess a belief in the divine. Further, many of my friends and family who could circles around me intellectually do believe in God and in Christ as savior.
That said, I’m not sure if I could defend my lack of faith intellectually and instead here hope to give you simply a very personal account of why I don’t believe in God.
The answer is simple: I don’t see a point.
I have been told in various ways and at various times that the point is to get into heaven and to have eternal life. But I have a problem right there. I’ve never heard exactly what heaven is. The accounts of it in the Bible really don’t sound all that wonderful to me (and, trust me, it’s not like I haven’t read those accounts – I’m a preacher’s kid). That’s pretty much all I have to go on in the Christian faith and it’s really not doing it for me. (By the way, the Bible, which is supposed to be somehow either divinely written or divinely inspired, really just isn’t all that compelling a read to me. And God is mean. I’m nicer to and more patient with people than God is. I wouldn’t turn a woman into salt if she disobeyed a silly request like “Don’t look back at the burning city,” especially if she were a wife and mother.)
I’ve also read of nirvana, which sounds more interesting to me – a life free of desire, not because you get everything you desire presto a la heaven, but because you seriously just don’t desire anything. When you don’t desire, you don’t suffer, because all suffering comes from desire. When you hit the big “N” you’re done – you don’t have to come back to this corporeal world. I like that, but that’s just a belief and kind of a “nice to have”, but not really practical. You could bust your ass to attain nirvana and maybe even starve yourself with a smile on your face. Have you really done anything but die? I just don’t see how you could know if what you’re doing will meet your goal.
The point here is I have no “knowledge” of the hereafter and there is no way for me to gain even a glimpse of the hereafter in this world. I don’t think you can dispute that in any rational way. If you believe in miracles or some sort of divine interaction in personal matters, a la “God is telling me ‘X’,” you are operating on faith, not ration at all, even if you do something rational.
As for a “faith” in the hereafter, I really don’t get that either. What do I have to go on? I was raised in the Judeo Christian tradition which teaches you must have faith, even when the Lord is moving in mysterious ways. But you don’t actually ever see God do anything so everything he does is mysterious. So, right there, it’s impossible to figure out what God is moving and what’s just moving -- there’s no difference. Even “in my heart”. Did God put it on my heart to move to Austin after college? Did God put it in my heart to submit my resume to my current job (where I’ve happily been for nine years and where I met my wife, with whom I have two beautiful children). Did God put it on my heart to drink 12 beers on Superbowl Sunday? Did God put it in my heart to bet on the Seahawks and the spread? I mean, what counts as divine intervention? I simply don’t know and I have never heard a satisfactory answer. For that reason, I cannot have “faith”.
So, let’s say for the sake of argument that you can’t convince me of a hereafter. Is there any other reason for us to continue a conversation? I’m not sure there is. What would be the point of believing in God if that belief did not get you an eternal life? You could say this is a selfish way of looking at the world. The point is you should be considering something “bigger than yourself” and heaven is just a nice by product of living the life God wants you to live.
I think here we’re getting to crux of my argument about why I don’t believe in God. I really do think it is impossible to be happy in this world if you can’t live your life like there is something more important than yourself. But what does that have to do with God? Is a faith in God the only way to truly be happy? The only way to truly admit that there is something bigger than yourself is to truly believe in God? I really don’t think so. I know, to me, there are things in this world (people) more important to me than “me” for which I would sacrifice “me” for. There are other selfish things that make me happy for a while, but not that keeps me “going on”. To somehow throw God in the mix would muck things up. Should I thank God for bringing me happiness? Is that what God really wants? That seems kind of selfish. Is God going to take away the people who bring me happiness, e.g. my reason for “going on”? That would be mean. Why would God do that? I mean, I’m kind of clueless here.
In closing, let me say that I don’t know if there is or isn’t a God. There are some strong arguments for the existence of God (like, why is there something instead of nothing). But, even if there are arguments FOR God, there is no (credible) evidence as to the nature of God, so I have no idea what God is and what I should do if there is one. So, as I have for almost two decades now, I will life my life as if God doesn’t exist. I may be wrong and there might be consequences, but it is impossible to lie to myself.
In a later blog I hope to chronicle my faith and how I came to be a “non-believer”.

Privacy
Sometimes I'm asked, "What is the hardest thing about having kids?" Aside from how much money it takes to effectively take care of kids (which really probably has the biggest effect on your lifestyle, which is hard to get used to), I would say the lack of privacy. I think for me this is a little more acute. I work in an office with "cubes", but they aren't actually cubes. They are desks attached to other desks with no walls. Everyone can see me and it is no trouble to hear me. Any conversation I might have on the phone can be unintentionally (or intentionally) heard by, oh... six or seven people. And that's if I keep my voice down, which often requires the person on the other end to say "What, I'm sorry, could you repeat that?", which means I have to say whatever it was a little louder, which very much increases the chances that what I did not want to be heard by anyone other than the person at the other end of the line, will be heard by any or all of one to seven other people.
And I am always aware that I could be in someone's gaze (again, either unintentionally or intentionally). That means any web site I'm looking at, any look of consternation I might have on my face, nose blowing I might require can be seen by any of close to, oh... 40 people.
So, I get home, and, while I'm not potentially being seen by 40 people or listened to by six or seven, I am constantly within ear- or eye-shot of somebody... the whole time I'm home. This includes showers and bath times. I think I thought kids came with some sort of sleep mode function for when you have to go to the can, but that was the only time you could use it. Like there is some sort of "time out" in nature that says when you have to go to the can, the rest of the world can wait.
Things are better. The kids are getting older. My wife and I have a new schedule that seems to be a little more conducive to taking showers, but still. I find myself being a little more uptight because I just feel like I'm constantly in someone's gaze. (Jean Paul Sartre wrote about this in "Being and Nothingness" about how realizing you are in another's gaze suddenly makes you realize your are an actual thing in this world and not really the one conjuring up the world and how this can be stressful.)