I had a chance encounter with a colleague recently. Waxing philosophic,

he began to address great issues of creation. I didn’t object; I like him and he’s no bible-thumper. But, there came a point when I had

to say, somewhat to his surprise: I am an atheist. I don’t say that very often, though I’m not ashamed of it.

I have a friend who is probably the most literate person I know on matters of the

bible. She asked me recently, in effect, what do atheists believe, in the sense of what satisfies our common human need to understand or

explain difficult things.

Sometimes I half-jokingly refer to myself as an “antagagnostic” (antagonist + agnostic), defining such

as one who doubts there is a god but hates him just the same. Indeed, I hate the god of the bible, it is true. I have expressed that in

far stronger language on many occasions.

I don’t mind if you are a believer, even though I know many believers mind very much

that I don’t believe. I don’t seek to change believers, though many seek to change me. Doesn’t quite seem fair, but that’s just a

trivial bit of evidence that there either isn’t a god or s/he is extremely distant or heartless and unjust. There is far greater

evidence everywhere you look.

Oh, but what of all the good people I love, some of whom have faith? What of my sweet dog, Lucky,

who is the nicest person I know. What of those glorious morning glories that so inspire me, the mammoth mountains, waterfalls,

rainstorms, everything I love in the world. I do love it all, but I have no need to thank a god I don’t believe in for it. I’m grateful

and feel lucky — I just believe it was random chance that brought me here and will sweep me out of all memory in time. Misfortune and

sorrow are just part of the balance, as are joy and gratitude. mjh