The Reason

I have to chuckle whenever I see a self-proclaimed atheist in some old Western, because the writers were forced by the culture back then to give him appropriately shallow reasons for his non-belief: "I can't see that a God that sacrifices my family to the Apaches deserves anything from me." The conclusion being, atheism can only derive from emotional irrationalism and personal grudges.

I went to the First United Methodist Church in Sunnyvale as a kid, and had a blast. Developed the leadership qualities that would propel me through college as president of the youth fellowship. Loved the quiet calm of the sanctuary (a beautiful interior with soaring woodgrained walls). Loved coffee hour afterwards in the courtyard. Had a crush on Heidi Tubbs, who once was struck by a wandering shaft of light that turned her into an angel. Loved being in the choir, learning all the bass and tenor parts to the hymns, and sang my first public solo, an a capella medley of "O Holy Night" and "Lo How a Rose E'er Blooming." Till one day, I was reading a passage of scripture and realized, "You know what? I don't actually believe any of this."

A few years later, I ran into a couple of choir buddies at a mall and they said, "How come you don't sing in the church choir anymore?" I said, "I really just don't believe any more." And they said, "Yeah, but you're a tenor - we need tenors!"

Bless those people. In a way, they gave me the freedom to come to my own conclusions. I'm extremely grateful.