My book, The Altar Boy Chronicles, could have been subtitled How to Make an Atheist. In it, I detailed at least the first half of my transition from holier-than-holy altar boy and future priest to confirmed atheist.
Here, I can cite only some of the crucial junctures punctuating that eight-year sequence.
The Hot Dog Challenge
One fine day, early in college, I must have been feeling especially brave. I decided to directly insult the Deity by deliberately eating a hot dog on a Friday—a despicable mortal sin. I half-expected (well… maybe less than half) a thunderclap and killer lightning bolt incinerating me as a sign of God’s displeasure.
But nothing happened. There followed more Frankfurter Fridays. Nothing happened, (though the hot dogs were awfully good). It struck me that nothing ever happened. Hundreds of hours on my knees, praying, begging for a sign, but… there never was one. Never an unequivocal sign of God’s displeasure or pleasure. It gradually dawned on me (duh!) that no one was watching and nobody was listening.
Itinerant Souls
We’d been taught that the soul was the principle of life and was an entirely spiritual, non-material entity. Why, then, is it always so anxious to leave a bullet-ridden body? After all, the bullets hadn’t touched the soul! I discussed this and other “soul” issues with one of my school’s Norbertine Fathers who had become a dear friend (we both loved Brahms). But he never offered a satisfactory answer. I eventually decided, given all the insoluble puzzles and intrinsic vagueness of the whole concept, that souls weren’t real.
The Last Confession
At some point in those early college days, I decided that all the theological qualms, all the doubts were simply unbearable. I had to have help. I resolved to confess all. So I did — explaining all these things to the father-confessor, even my uncertainty over God’s existence. His response? “Say three Hail Marys and make a good Act of Contrition.” It wasn’t an ordinary confession, but I sure got an ordinary penance! Since none of my concerns were addressed, I never again came within ten feet of a confessional booth. Besides, most of the “sins” I’d been confessing weren’t morally wrong at all.
The Great Big World Out There
No doubt that attending the University of Pennsylvania, rather than my original choices — LaSalle, St. Joseph’s, or Villanova — was the most significant element in my secularization and transition to atheism. Leaving the insular confines of all-Italian Catholic South Philly, or so it seemed, meant encountering other races, other cultures, other religions, and… atheists. Surprise! Many were bright, witty, amiable, and morally good persons. (Some even loved Brahms.) With eye-opening clarity, this meant that Catholicism wasn’t necessary for any of the virtues. Period. What was god-belief accomplishing? Nothing. Why keep it? I didn’t.
Last, but assuredly not least, enormous credit is due those many freethinkers who expounded their versions of unbelief. What intellects stretching back to Diogenes, Epicurus, even Socrates. It didn’t hurt that so many were consummate literary stylists; think of Voltaire, Thomas Paine, Franklin, Jefferson… (Of course deists have to be classified as quasi-atheists since their “god” bears little resemblance to the “God” of our dictionary.)
Most influential for me were those philosophers who specifically worked in the Philosophy of Religion and whom I had to read as a philosophy major. Those included Baron d’Holbach, Hobbes, Spinoza, Morris Cohen, Moritz Schlick, John Dewey, Arthur Pap… I would single out my own version of the trinity, the three superb essayists who influenced me most heavily: David Hume, Bertrand Russell, and A.J. Ayer.
Again, the secular climate of a great university must be credited for making it acceptable to read and ponder freethought issues. What irony! For me, it was mandatory to read items that were probably all listed on the Roman Catholic Index of Forbidden Books. It was my duty to commit mortal sins!
Speaking of philosophers, examining theological issues — especially the existence of God — is an integral part of their profession. On those matters, they are the experts. And the experts have spoken: about 75% are atheistic or agnostic, and virtually none would espouse the god of Christian fundamentalism.
At some introspective period after college, I took stock of my beliefs. I felt that I had honestly examined all the theistic proofs and found them wanting. I’d had extensive experience with one of the world’s major religions and considered its doctrines nonsensical. My personal life experiences conveyed no inkling of a god.
That was it. It had all happened as naturally as breathing. I wasn’t trying to be deliberately provocative or fashionably naughty. I wasn’t rebelling against God. Or parents. I’d simply decided that God didn’t exist. So I must be an atheist! Some 72 years later, that verdict remains valid.