I’m an atheist. My kids think God is real. Something’s gotta give.
So … this is going to take some explaining — but bear with me, because I think there are a few important points to make on this topic.
And, even better, they’re points that extend well beyond this topic into aspects of life that don’t involve religion.
First point I need to make — I’m an atheist.
I used to believe in a Christian god — It was hard not to when I was enjoying the benefits of a super f*cking expensive private school education that had religious instruction at the core of its curriculum.
Plus, I was head chorister of the chapel choir, which meant I was front and centre for four church services every single week, from the time I was 11 until I abandoned my beliefs at age 16.
From that time on, I saw belief in a god as something of a crutch, and nothing embodies that more these days than the empty platitudes of “my thoughts and prayers are with the victims and their families” that inevitably follow the latest high school shooting in the US.
I do not believe in a god but, by some quirk of fate, both of my sons are mostly convinced he is real.
They’ve both been baptised as Catholics and, while the rest of the family isn’t super-religious, there is a reasonable amount of god-bothering going on.
This is not ideal but it’s not the end of the world, either.
The writing is in the sky
On the recent Easter long weekend, I was taking my sons to the park to kick the footy around and push them both on the swings.
Along the way to the park, I noticed that someone was writing a message in the sky, using a plane and a smoke pack.
The message was simple: “a cross = a love heart”.
My youngest spotted it first and asked me what it meant. So I told him that someone was trying to tell us that the message was “Jesus (the cross) = love (the love heart)”.
The resulting conversation between my sons went something like this:
Youngest son Laurence: “Awww … that’s so nice of Jesus to tell us he loves us”.
Older son Blake: “Jesus is dead, you idiot”.
Laurence: “No, he’s not … otherwise how would he write things in the sky?”
Blake: “He’s dead. He got nailed to a cross and he died. The statue in church proves it!”
Laurence: “If he’s dead, then how is he writing things in the sky?”
And so on.
It’s at this point that I had to intervene. Otherwise, this robust theological discussion had all the hallmarks of a short and vicious brawl between two pint-sized combatants that I didn’t want to be party to.
Plus they were amped up with a belly full of chocolate that had allegedly been delivered by an oversized bunny with a penchant for giving out sugary sweets once a year.
And here’s where the “should I perpetuate the lie” conundrum hits home.
Is it okay to lie to our little ones about Santa and the Easter Bunny, while trying your best to help them understand that what they’re being taught about God is clearly conjecture?
So off to Google I went … with predictably contradictory results.
Blame it on the Devil
The vast majority of links you’ll encounter by searching “how to talk to your kids about God” are articles to tell you how to teach your kids that God is real.
The articles point to the usual suspects: all of the good things in life that God gets to take credit for — the beauty of nature, the love that we feel for our family, the feeling of empathy for our fellow man. Etc, etc.
But those texts will inevitably, and conveniently, label all the bad bits of the world we live in on the Devil.
It’s easy to own and accept the accolades for the good things you do, and blame the bad things you do on someone else.
Children, especially toddlers, do it all the time.
“It wasn’t me!” is the standard toddler response to whatever calamity has befallen your living room — especially when it involves your couch, a glass of orange juice, and a stain that will cost a good chunk of change to remove from the upholstery.
But when kids are little, they need to have things spelled out for them in the simplest of terms. Which is why a lot of the messaging they’ll be getting around the idea of religion is mostly benign.
Give them both sides of the debate
Things came to a head when my oldest son started quizzing me about religion while we were driving somewhere.
“Daddy … is God real?” he asked.
I’d been expecting this question for a while — and I was mostly prepared for how I would handle it.
I remember reading a Time Magazine article a few years back by Richard Dawkins, who is arguably the poster child for how to be the kind of atheist that’s every bit as annoyingly strident as a megachurch pastor.
Dawkins was making his case why parents should never force religion on their children. It’s a dense, angry essay on the evils of labelling children and forcing them to live their lives a particular way — and while I agree with the basics of it, it forced me to think about my own approach.
And that’s when I realised that kids should be taught about religion the same way we teach them about everything else in life where they get to choose what to believe.
Give them both sides of the debate, and let them figure it out for themselves.
So, while my answer to Blake’s question “is God real?” would normally elicit a very strong “no!” in response, I took the time to instead offer as much information as I could.
“Some people think so, mate, but other people don’t.”
“Do you think he’s real?” he asked.
“No mate, but that’s okay. And it’s okay for other people to think he’s real, too … that’s their choice.”
“… I think he’s real. I’ve seen pictures of him.”
And that was that. Blake’s decided to believe in a god — which, despite my own beliefs, I’m actually cool with. And when my younger son decides it’s time to start his own spiritual journey, I’ll do the same for him.
The vital part is to give them both sides of the debate.
Unless you’re talking about Santa or the Easter Bunny, of course. There are some debates that aren’t worth ruining with the truth.