Throughout my career, I’ve had conversations with atheists.  I always try to be respectful in these conversations because I know most atheists have run into “buzzsaw” Christians.  I want to know their stories and how they made the decision to be atheists. 

What I often hear is hurt.  One man described his father as abusive, cruel, and very religious.  His father never told him he was loved or cherished; instead, he criticized every mistake and demanded perfection.  Growing up with a load of shame, he could not believe there was a loving Heavenly Father.  He asked me how I could believe in a loving God when there was so much suffering.  I shared I had experienced God’s love and grace in my life, and I trusted that experience.  But I also knew that I had childhood experiences he did not have.  I prayed for God’s love to touch his soul. 

Another man told me he did not believe.  When I asked why, he responded by giving the names of philosophers who concluded there was no god.  I listened to old arguments dressed up in new academic language.  I felt a Holy Spirit prompt to gently challenge him: “I have heard these arguments before, and there is validity to them.  But could it also be true that believing there is no God works for you?  You don’t have to answer to anyone, and you can do what you want.  That seems to be the way you want to live your life.”  He was honest enough to say, “Well, preacher, I’ve never thought of it that way, but you are right.  I like living for me.”  I did not ask him what his wife and kids thought about that philosophy. 

I had a similar conversation with a college-age young man.  He began by asking me about the so-called lost gospels.  I told him we had known about these books for hundreds of years but had only recently discovered copies.  I also told him these books date well after the first century AD and are not considered authoritative.  He said, “Well, doesn’t that mean none of the scripture can be trusted, and the church made up the story of Jesus to protect their power?”  I am sorry to say I laughed.  I told him the church had no power for the first three hundred years of its existence.  It is inconceivable that the authors of the New Testament conspired to create a narrative about a poor Jewish rabbi who turns out to be the promised Messiah, the son of God who is resurrected from the dead.  I asked him when his doubts rose, and he said his freshman year of college.  I asked him if that was when he also discovered beer and sex.  He lowered his head and said yes.  I then asked him if he thought there was a connection.   

I had a conversation with an old Kentucky farmer who told me there was no god.  His statement surprised me because most farmers I know believe, even if they aren’t churchgoers.  I asked him why, and he told me he had once been active in church, taught Sunday School, and had been a deacon.  Then, his ten-year-old daughter was diagnosed with leukemia.  For two years, he watched her battle cancer.  Her body was ravaged by the chemo, and she wasted away.  He told me when he walked away from her grave, he decided that no god would ever allow a child to die like that, to suffer like that.  I was writing my dissertation on Job at the time, and I knew the worst thing to do was to argue with him.  I told him I had no idea and I was so sorry.  I could not take away his pain.  But I could pray for him and asked him if I could pray for him right then.  He said, “If it makes you feel better.”  I prayed for God to heal his hurt, to bring him goodness, and to show himself to be real.  I moved away from that community not long after that conversation.  The new pastor told me later that the farmer had begun to attend church sporadically.  Maybe he was an atheist only for a season. 

So why am I not an atheist?  The reasons are many, and few have anything to do with my job as a pastor.  I choose to believe to have faith because I see things happen around me, and the existence of a personal God is the best explanation for why these things happen.  I believe because I know the evil that still lives in my soul.  It seems like only the power of God keeps it in check and diminishes its power.  I believe because I see God do extraordinary things in people’s lives.   

I try not to judge the atheists I know.  When I hear their stories, I realize I, too, might not believe if I had experienced what they have.  But I also pray for them.  I pray God will show up in their lives so their story can move in a different direction.  I truly believe their story will be better if Jesus writes it.   

Yours will be, too.