Post by anirbas on Aug 29, 2019 18:37:40 GMT -6
For years, as an adult, I've been quietly atheist. I didn't actually come out of the closet, concerning my atheism, until 2016. Until that moment, I was content to publicly remain incognito with my personal choice. I never felt the need to draw converts to my perspective. Happy to live and let live, so to speak.
Then, one day in my workplace lunch lounge, I grew tired of listening to an onerous woman and self-proclaimed Christian, expound about the corruption to be found in atheists. How vile and immoral the whole lot is. Downright responsible for riding the country into ruin. (A country in which Christianity is the moral majority in, mind you, not atheism.) Those sitting with her, avidly bobbed their heads in agreement to her propaganda riddled, rabid monologue.
After several long minutes, when this woman stopped to catch her breath, I quietly, but clearly spoke from my table next to her's, "But, Joyce, (not her real name) I'm an atheist."
The proverbial pin dropped in the break room, that day. I heard it. All conversation ceased. I watched as four pairs of eyes at the next table, popped out of their owner's head; along with their jaws dropping, leaving their wrinkled lips wide open.
"You're not a Christian?" Joyce shrieked in honest shock. "No, ma'am. I am not." I answered, truthfully.
"But, but, but, you're so kind. And, and sweet. And, and helpful." Joyce spluttered.
"Exactly, Joyce." I answered, in a matter of fact manner. "After all, one must not be Christian to have honor, morals and standards."
At that point, I returned to enjoying my delightful lunch of a healthy salad of mixed lettuces with loads of chopped raw veggies and chunks of cold, baked salmon. I have to say, clearing the air of gross misperceptions cleared my palate, too. That was the best salad I've eaten, to date.
Eventually, Joyce and her religious friends began to conversate among themselves again. Al beit, in a muted manner and upon other subject matter. The rest of the lunch room crowd returned to their meals, now the show was over. I must admit, at the time, I was every bit as surprised as Joyce and her fine lady friends, when I spoke up and stepped out of my comfortable closet . I've always been happy to live and let live, after all. But, I don't regret it one iota.
Then, one day in my workplace lunch lounge, I grew tired of listening to an onerous woman and self-proclaimed Christian, expound about the corruption to be found in atheists. How vile and immoral the whole lot is. Downright responsible for riding the country into ruin. (A country in which Christianity is the moral majority in, mind you, not atheism.) Those sitting with her, avidly bobbed their heads in agreement to her propaganda riddled, rabid monologue.
After several long minutes, when this woman stopped to catch her breath, I quietly, but clearly spoke from my table next to her's, "But, Joyce, (not her real name) I'm an atheist."
The proverbial pin dropped in the break room, that day. I heard it. All conversation ceased. I watched as four pairs of eyes at the next table, popped out of their owner's head; along with their jaws dropping, leaving their wrinkled lips wide open.
"You're not a Christian?" Joyce shrieked in honest shock. "No, ma'am. I am not." I answered, truthfully.
"But, but, but, you're so kind. And, and sweet. And, and helpful." Joyce spluttered.
"Exactly, Joyce." I answered, in a matter of fact manner. "After all, one must not be Christian to have honor, morals and standards."
At that point, I returned to enjoying my delightful lunch of a healthy salad of mixed lettuces with loads of chopped raw veggies and chunks of cold, baked salmon. I have to say, clearing the air of gross misperceptions cleared my palate, too. That was the best salad I've eaten, to date.
Eventually, Joyce and her religious friends began to conversate among themselves again. Al beit, in a muted manner and upon other subject matter. The rest of the lunch room crowd returned to their meals, now the show was over. I must admit, at the time, I was every bit as surprised as Joyce and her fine lady friends, when I spoke up and stepped out of my comfortable closet . I've always been happy to live and let live, after all. But, I don't regret it one iota.
