My Lost Saints

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I am an agnostic, bordering on being an atheist. This is something I don’t often admit although it is no secret to my family. My loss of faith was not a sudden decision, but rather a natural process over time. I come from a long line of Catholics and I was raised a Catholic. While I was growing up I attended mass every Sunday and on religious holidays with my aunts and sister. I loved the mystery and rituals of the church, the words spoken by the priest, especially when the mass was in Latin, and the ceremonies marking passages. My favorite church was the cathedral-like St.Joseph’s located in downtown Rochester, NY. The church had large stained glass windows, tiered rows of lighted candles, an enormous altar that encompassed the entire front wall, paintings of animals with angel wings on its high domed ceiling, and a large pipe organ in the balcony.

When I went away to college I stopped attending mass. The only Catholic Church in town was not close to my school and I didn’t have a car. I probably could have found a ride, but I made no effort to do so. I felt no guilt about my decision. My husband and I were married in a Catholic Church, but we did not have a full mass since my husband was an Episcopalian. Religion was not an important aspect of our life. All three of our children were baptized in a Catholic church, but attended Sunday services with their Episcopal grandparents. We celebrated Easter, Christmas and other religious holidays, but we were not a religious family. We taught our children to be good, kind, and honest, and to "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

Over the years I began to question my faith influenced by logic, inconsistencies in the Bible, and the hypocrisy of some people who claimed they were religious. I invited people of various religions into my home when they came to my door and we discussed our beliefs. These discussions lead me further away from religion. When my son’s friend became ill, I prayed and pleaded with God to save her. Her death was the final blow. I didn't suffer a loss of faith; I made a conscious decision not to believe. Benjamin Franklin once said, "As we grow older, it becomes difficult to just believe. It's not that we don't want to, but too much has happened that we just can't.”

I will not, cannot, choose not to believe in a deity who allows suffering, who allows the young to die, and who stands by while bad things happen to good people. A deity who expects allegiance without question, belief without proof, and faith without thought. “It was God’s will” or “God saved me” are two statements that anger me. What kind of God chooses to let someone die because he wants them to be with him? Why is one person more deserving of life than another? Man has given God human attributes, human weaknesses, and male gender. Man has created a god in his own image with all of his cruelty, selfishness, and ego. Why are natural disasters called Acts of God? Why was everyone banished from the Garden of Eden for a wrong supposedly committed by one or two people? Why do people who are "born again" use the lack of God in their lives as an excuse for their previous bad actions? They always had the option, the choice, the free will to be good or bad.

Am I am bad person because I no longer believe in God? Am I less moral, less kind, less deserving of love and respect than I was the day before I made my decision? Doing the right thing should not be something that is motivated by a fear of hell and punishment. We should do good, be good simply because it is the right thing to do. I don’t need commandments to believe lying, stealing, and killing are wrong nor do I lack a moral compass because I do not believe I will be rewarded in Heaven. It is as if I have walked out of the shadows into the sunlight and nothing has changed.

"He who toward all living things is kind... Ah! He indeed will true religion find." ~The Sacred Book of the Sikhs
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