Sometimes I wish I had a preprinted FAQ card about my personal life that was always ready in my rainbow-toothed zip fold when discussing why I am who I am today. Especially when being confronted about my lack of belief, and my penchant for unabashedly slamming organized religion. I think many of us out there can relate to this constant rehashing of the same answers over and over again. It's akin to signing up for a dating service, and every interested suitor begins asking the same questions over and over. What are your favorite hobbies? What food do you like? How many of you kept a spare text file with already typed-up answers to that same monotonous diatribe on POF? I did! And I even have one now for online conversations about my anti-religious stances.

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No, I don't hate God because I don't believe in deities.

No, I don't believe in Satan either.

No, I don't worship Satan.

No, I don't believe in ghosts or demons.

No, I don't have all the answers.

No, something bad didn't make me become an atheist.

No, I don't hate Christians or Muslims or any other deist.

No, I don't need a God to tell me the difference between right and wrong.

No, I don't believe we are animated pieces of meat.

No, I don't believe in a soul.

Every week, I end up in these conversations because I won't sit idly by and try to pass in a group. Someone recently asked me about my stained-glass version of The Dude profile pic because they knew I regularly mentioned carpets and abiding, which has something to do with that one movie.  What does it all stand for? Why am I so obsessed? This spiraled into a conversation about my ordination with The Church of the Latter Day Dude, and of course, that led into a larger discussion about religion, my dislike of it, and the million-dollar question of why do I blame God for what humanity does to one another? And, this question is typically followed up by an argumentative statement to question my alleged blaming.

"You can't blame God for what people are doing!"

"God desires us to earn our way and to resist the evil in this world!"

"Don't you know that this is the price we pay for having free will?"
"How can God decide who gets into Heaven if we aren't tested?" (This one is a real prize winner for mental gymnastics IMO)

This conversation finds me in nearly every aspect of my life, mostly because I let it in, but who wants to stifle who they are 100% of their life? Regarding this friend of mine and The Dude, the excuses and indignation go on forever, as well as the refusal to understand I don't have the same physical manifestation of god as they do. As I have explained in previous blogs, public presentations, and general debate discussions, for me, the term "god" isn't an actual being. It's just a title of recognition in my book, and I don't know anything that would earn that title from me.

So, is there no blame in my game? Of course, there is, but I'm not blaming God--- just the concept. I'm refusing to lay the responsibility for all the world's problems at the feet of some divine being that orchestrates all the chaos and suffering we see around us. No, my perspective is a bit different. You see, to me, "God" is more of a concept than a concrete entity. It's a symbol, a label that people use to make sense of the universe and their place in it. And while I respect that everyone has their own beliefs and interpretations, I can't help but notice how this concept of God often gets in the way of addressing real-world issues.

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“I don’t regret it. We need to be praying more before we have these incidents (shootings). We have traded faith in God for faith in government.,” Rep. Keith Self, R-McKinney, Texas. 

"When 1619 passed and went into law on October 25, you told God life doesn't matter," State Rep. Michael Lemelin (R-88) said referring to a mass school shooting in Lewiston, Maine. "Keep in mind that the law came into effect on October 25. God heard you and the horrible events on October 25 happened."

“Nearly everything that plagues our society can be attributed to a failure to follow God’s laws for morality and his rules for and definition of marriage and family,” R-Bob Good, R-Virginia.

Let's take a step back and think about it. When something terrible happens, like a natural disaster or a heinous act of violence, some people immediately invoke God. They say it's all part of God's plan, or they claim that God is testing us. This can be comforting to some, and that's perfectly valid. But for me, it raises some serious questions. What I find wildly ironic is the blaming of a lack of God, kinda sorta blames God since he allegedly granted us free will. Guess that's where Isaiah 45:7 comes into play.

Semantics aside, I like to explain how having faith in a larger power feels like a cop-out. Instead of grappling with the complex, messy reality of human suffering, it's easier to attribute it to a divine plan or promise eternal damnation for the wrongdoers. It's a way of saying, "We don't need to do anything about this because God has a plan. Just focus on moving on and remember what He has in store for us someday." Or, some other platitude like,"None of this matters in the end." And that can lead to inaction when action is desperately needed.

I also usually point out that faith leads to complacency. If we believe that God is in control of everything, it's easy to become passive and resigned to our circumstances. One might think, "Well, if God wants things to change, He'll make it happen." This can stifle our motivation to work for positive change in the world. Especially if one perceives this as coming across as ungrateful to their deity, their church community, etc. And third, belief can sometimes be used as a shield to deflect responsibility. When people say, "You can't blame God for what people do because Satan's influence is so terrible in the world today." They're essentially absolving individuals and societies of accountability, and God for creating Lucifer in the first place.  It becomes a way of avoiding the hard conversations about our own actions and the systems we've created.
 

So, when I talk about blaming God, clearly any blame I have (or that my friend was looking for to explain my atheism) involves how the concept of God perpetuates avoidance despite the biblical altruisms (and threats) regarding accountability. 

One of the biggest takeaways I try to give those who question my disbelief is that my lack of faith isn't a device to dictate what they should believe or how to interpret their faith. People find solace, purpose, and meaning in their beliefs, and that's a beautiful coping mechanism within human experience. Not all Christians or Muslims condemn non-belief or try to impose it on others. Saying grace with friends at a holiday dinner isn't the same as someone pulling me aside and giving me an emotional beat down to convert. What I hope for is engagement that goes beyond religious dogma and explores the complexities of our world with open hearts and open minds because then we see mutual agendas that typically involve the pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness.

I know it's hard to help folks understand that there is more than one way to enjoy a life that is both ethical and uplifting, and some of those ways don't require a vengeful sky daddy. When someone asks you "Why blame god?", explain that it's not about blaming an ethereal figure but about challenging the narratives that can sometimes hinder our ability to create a better, more compassionate world. And if that sparks a deep and appreciative discussion about culture and beliefs, all the better. After all, it's through dialogue and understanding that we can truly bridge the gaps that divide us.

Of course, there will be times it's impossible to reach a rational level of discussion without the entire interaction shutting down. I like to emphasize that questioning and challenging established beliefs, including religious ones, doesn't necessarily equate to disrespect or disregard. Insist you just want them to see spaces do exist where diverse perspectives can coexist and can create meaningful discussions about the nature of faith, morality, and our shared human experience. The majority of religious folks I meet are genuinely curious and somewhat guarded but open to talking -- even when things don't line up with their own preconceptions about someone who is atheist, agnostic, or generically spiritual. 

One of the key takeaways I have gotten from these discussions is that language matters. When someone uses the phrase "blame God," they often don't genuinely intend for it to be a provocative statement. In fact, they probably don't even realize it is provocative. They also may not realize they've encouraged further introspection and reflection within themselves by engaging with you about your lack of belief. In essence, they've invited me to explore the nuances of their beliefs more than my own, which helps me to show how they intersect with the complex issues we all face in the world that have nothing to do with ideology. 

Plus, these talks often reveal the richness and diversity of human thought. And while they may talk a great game in this department, they discover they have to actually put their ears on and listen actively, not reactively. This is a tough spot to find oneself in when not having to be defensive about one's feels. They'll be the first to agree that we all bring our unique backgrounds, experiences, and perspectives to the table, but they probably haven't had to sit at the table and hear it- even if they were the ones orchestrating the proverbial tea party. For some, religion provides solace, guidance, and a sense of purpose, while for others, it's a source of skepticism, critique, and even resistance. Recognizing and respecting these differences is an essential aspect of fostering dialogue and empathy.

In fact, my own experiences as an ESL teacher have taught me the value of cultural exchange and the beauty of learning from one another. Whether it's through discussing different belief systems, sharing personal stories, or debating ethical dilemmas, these interactions can be incredibly enriching. They remind us that despite our differences, we share a common humanity and a collective responsibility to make the world a better place.

When finding yourself in a conversation about faith, belief, or the lack of a deity in your life, embrace it as a golden opportunity for a rich exchange of ideas. Rather than hastily drawing conclusions or assuming the worst about the other person's intentions using provocative statements, take a moment to wholeheartedly tune in to the other person's perspective. I'd be willing to bet they aren't necessarily looking for a fight and might be surprised by your insight. Be curious, ask questions, actively seek common ground, and remain receptive to the exciting possibility of discovering a deeper understanding of your own convictions along the way.

Above all, remember that the ultimate aim isn't to convert or persuade one another, justify one's choices, or denigrate, but rather to share the possibility of coexistence in an increasingly interconnected world. Not every conversation is going to be a debate and it's easier than you think to engage without drawing lines in the sand. Of course, that means putting aside your own personal grievances, which can be equally challenging but well worth the effort.