Godless Mamma

Watch Katharine Hepburn discuss atheism and morality.

Historically, I haven't talked much about the fact that I am an atheist because this information has always been more important to the recipient than to me. Sharing my religious beliefs in conversation typically steers the conversation in one of two directions. One is invariably an attempt to change my mind on the subject through testimony; the other is an offense I didn't intend but can nevertheless not take back.

I feel a little safer sharing my beliefs in this format, and the subject of religion has been on mind. I guess it's yet another on the list of things I didn't think mattered much... until I had a baby. My attitude about religion, the mystery of the unknown and morality (Life, the Universe and Everything so to speak) will help shape hers.

So here it is for the record: I don't believe in God or any gods. For a long time, I thought that this didn't matter in my daily life. And I didn't like being boxed in with anyone who actively cares about whether the words "in god we trust" are printed on our paper currency. I identify as an atheist on the literal plain - simply because I live without god.

I used to dislike organized religion, namely one Christian denomination or another (because this is what I grew up with). I was baptized Presbyterian and attended church with my family every week for most of my childhood. I went to 1 year of Catholic school, 1 year of Mormon school and voluntarily joined several different non-denominational youth groups in high school. I also attended a Lutheran university, but I had already begun to self-identify as an atheist by the time I graduated. In college, I took more of an objective interest in religion and studied quite a few different ones - but only as an academic pursuit. At some point, I unwittingly developed this snotty attitude toward those who took any of it seriously. Over the years, thankfully, I've become less apt to be so harsh and judgemental with others. I've come to realize that I couldn't care less what anyone else believes. Whatever works for you works for you, and it's got nothing to do with me.

Interestingly, I've also recently found that I actually like organized religion and religious services. While I still believe it's all whoop-la, I like all of the whoop-la a whole lot.

I am a storyteller, and I appreciate the stories of the Bible. The themes central to its many stories are universal themes. The narrative of faith interwoven throughout is there to help believers navigate the big, scary and hopeless world. Life is pretty bleak without some explanation, or without some hope for something better. The faith narrative can also serve to bolster the self-worth of the believer. Believers know with certainty that they are here for a purpose and that there are larger forces working behind-the-scenes on their behalf.

I also like the idea of weekly services dedicated to reflection and purposeful living; to reflection and expressing gratitude in a public setting. Going to church and sharing your private relationship with God with those fellow believers creates a sense of community and a sense of belonging like none other.

I've written about my struggles with anxiety and depression, what I haven't really explained is that living with anxiety and depression is like living in a constant state of insecurity. Never feeling quite safe, rested or completely at home... This takes a big toll on your perspective and ultimately self-image. And so lately I've wondered:

Has this ever-pervasive feeling of homesickness been exacerbated by my lack of faith, or by the absence of a weekly ritual shared with peers? If I had been a believer at the onset of any of my worst bouts of depression, might I have been a little better suited to deal with the anxiety of uncertainty?

The reality is that I have to deal with the diseases of anxiety and depression on a daily basis. This is my lot in life. I never want our daughter to experience a lot like mine. I am not an idealist, and I expect her to have struggles in life. But I don't think she should ever live in hopelessness, no matter what her religious beliefs. I want her to have faith in herself, faith in other people and faith in the idea that rough patches generally smooth out over time. I want her to believe that she is here for a purpose - maybe not God's prescribed purpose, but a purpose she'll discover or make for herself as she grows up. I want her to know and believe that she is awesome, powerful, unique and very much meant to make waves in this world.

So as an atheist, how do I impart faith in herself to my daughter? How do I ensure she believes she is worthy and perfect and that the world can be scary, but it's never hopeless?

Frankly, it may be easier to do this within the framework of a Christian church. The Sunday school teacher would do a lot of the heavy lifting. And I'd love to have coffee and gossip post-service built into my Sunday because I do get bored at home sometimes... But my husband and I are not those to do something because it's very easy.

Accordingly, my husband and I have accepted the challenge of imparting this faith in self to our daughter without the framework of organized religion. We decided to start by telling our daughter, every day without fail, that we believe in her and that we are always going to be there for her. We are consistent with this, even when it's annoying and we'd rather be sleeping.

In order to maintain that trust throughout her young life and hopefully into the teenage years, we have also promised ourselves and each other to allow her to explore any religion she likes. She is free to go to church, she can ask us to take her and we certainly will. We'll probably wind up taking her with one or the other set of grandparents during some holiday in the future. We'll encourage her to ask questions and find the answers that make sense to her. As parents, we'll allow her the freedom to develop her own sense of piety. We will not make any efforts to push atheism on her. Nor will we hide our beliefs from her.

There are books aplenty in our home, including The Bible, The Bhagavad Gita, The Toa Ti Ching and other famous religious titles. But it's pretty safe to say that my husband and I have adopted an amalgam of the (possibly imagined) religious philosophies of our favorite fiction writers. We read The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and other way-over-the-top books aloud to our 6-month-old baby... Because we like to read, and we like to share as many words as we possibly can with our baby girl.

As an accidental result, we have compiled rules for moral living as atheist parents, all loosely taken from the best of our bookshelf. These are the house rules in our atheist home:

1. Treat yourself and others with respect.
2. If you fail to treat yourself or another with respect, own up.
3. Apologize when you're wrong.
4. Accept others' apologies.
5. Forgive. Forgive yourself. Forgive others.
6. Don't take life, things and other people too seriously.
7. If you need to get something off your chest, say it. And say it to the person who you think needs to hear it. (In other words, try to avoid gossip and communicate purposefully.)

I'm pretty comfortable with this beginner's list for now. It's a work in progress and its construction is very loose. It will grow and change, in predictable and surprising ways. Although I doubt my husband or I will ever eagerly dive back into an organized religious group for ourselves, we're completely open to the fact that even that may change. What won't change is our commitment to our daughter's sense of self-worth.