Agnostic Testimony 5
Trying Not to Care
by Catherine Johnson
Joining the Church was, for me, the end of a spiritual journey that took me from evangelical atheism to, well, not knowing and not caring. In my teens and twenties I was passionate about my lack of belief. I felt that there were plenty of religious loonies out there spreading their versions of their god’s ‘word’ and that most agnostics and atheists were basically quite content to let folk believe whatever they wanted to believe, provided that they weren’t actually blowing people up in order to prove their point. Well, I was there to redress the balance. I was there to rant and rail against their nonsense. Every religious nut that lost a bit of faith in the face of my arguments was a victory, and it felt so sweet when eventually a few of them came around to my way of thinking. I wanted everyone to acknowledge that this world might just be a better place if we understood that we only get one go at living a good life, and putting people before mythical deities was a good start at getting one’s priorities in order.
Now in my thirties, I have to admit that my vehemence was perhaps a little misplaced. The older I get, the more I understand that I haven’t really got a clue about anything at all. I don’t know why we’re here. Raving about my certainty that god doesn’t exist isn’t all that far away from ranting about the fact that he does. Plus, I’ve noticed that apathy is, in many ways, far more annoying to those who do believe. So, here I am. I don’t know. And I’m trying not to care.
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