What An Atheist Friend Taught Me About Church

I recently wrote some simple thoughts about Christian universalism and mentioned that a question I get a lot when I share my universalist beliefs is, “then why even be a Christian?” That always strikes me as strange and transactional, but the fact that I get this question from both believers and secularists makes me think that there are a lot of people who approach their religion on a strictly transactional basis. You do this for God, you get these things. The same arguments apply to prayer life. Some see God as a giant vending machine and if they don’t get what they want, it must mean that prayer is pointless or that God isn’t real. Somehow, people making these arguments don’t understand that they don’t have a problem with God, religion or prayer, they have a problem with understanding the purpose of any kind of spirituality at all.

I had a similar problem that I shared with a dear friend of mine who calls himself a Christian atheist. I wondered what that even means. I mean, I have a certain affinity for existential Christians (Kierkegaard of course) or theologians who might insist that good Christians are atheists because God doesn’t “exist,” because God is existence and perhaps unknowable in material ways (Denis Turner). But this didn’t describe my friend. My friend was a hardcore materialist who didn’t believe at all in God or even spiritual phenomena. Yet, he was a Christian through and through and even our church moderator at one point.

When I get questions about my universalism like, “why even be a Christian then,” I have an easy time answering. My relationship to God is not transactional. At least not strictly so, as humans who face burdens of scarcity, tribalism and fear, transactional instincts are hard to fight off. As a universalist I’m not going to church to win my way into Heaven, I’m going because I want to become more one with the ultimate ground of being. I want to thin myself out so I can let transcendence break in more frequently. I believe in God and the resurrection of Jesus Christ, so it seems natural to want to draw near and focus on Christ.

Because of this I focus more on mystical experience. I love communion, but not simply because it is a means of grace for the remission of sin. It certainly is a means of grace, but I take it more as an invitation to welcome and celebrate Christ in me. I don’t make the sign of the cross for protection, I cross myself to remind myself that I am forever marked by and bound to the cross of Christ. I am seeking to better realize my full humanity and purpose by seeking union with God and following Christ as the perfect model of what it means to unite God and humanity.

But my Christian-atheist friend doesn’t believe in God, so what is he doing in the pews? What is he thinking when all the resurrection talk kicks in? Who is he praying to? Why even bother? It turns out that the lowest common denominator in our faith was Huston Smith.

I think it matters almost infinitely that we practice one of the authentic religions. But if you mean does it make any difference which. The answer is no, as long as each is followed with equal intensity, sincerity, dedication. – Huston Smith

Smith’s writing on the importance of delving deep into one’s tradition is part of what drew me back into Christianity. But then I had very real mystical experiences that assured me I was on the right track by following Christ. Who knows, though? I think what Smith is saying above is that any religion can work for you. Maybe I would’ve had those mystical experiences if I had become Sufi, just in different ways, different words, different images and a different spiritual language. But could it work even if I didn’t believe there was any God at all, if I didn’t believe anything that wasn’t strictly material? My Christian atheist friend would say, “yes.”

My friend believed that religion had that capacity to transform even if you didn’t believe in God. Even secular humanism owes almost all of its moral and ethical framework to Christian teachings. Ideas such as compassion, forgiveness, equality and even love were laughable in many pre-Christian societies. There are even so-called Christians today claiming that empathy is a sin (spoiler: it’s not). Yet most atheists would agree that these principles are important for ethical living. Christian communities provide a way to engage like-minded people for social support in your transformation. Rituals and practices such as meditation, prayer and music structure a way to reflect on personal values and self-awareness. The Bible and theology are inspirational when confronting life challenges. A Christian church has an incredible structure to focus on service to your community. And perhaps shockingly to the faithful, these things appealed greatly to my atheist friend.

It was probably no small influence that my friend had also married into a strong Christian family. Engaging in the family faith through shared identity, customs, rituals, stories and historical contexts held enormous spiritual importance even to his atheist center.

I think my friend’s Christian-atheist perspective on the faith can teach us a lot about the importance of practicing the way. This is especially true when you have a bunch of false prophets running around right now. No, Christianity is not about protecting yourself from Hellfire — God loves all equally. No, Christianity will not make you rich despite whatever heresy Joel Osteen is currently selling you on Amazon or elsewhere. No, America is not a Christian nation, and your morals or citizenry does not depend upon your faith.

Why be a Christian? First and foremost, I think you should still want to follow God as present to us in Jesus Christ. But Christianity brings so much relevance to the followers of Christ in so many different areas of life.

• Identity. Engaging with the rituals and customs of Christianity connect us to our shared history and identity as Jesus followers. In my friend’s case, he found it important to follow Jesus even if there was no God, that’s how powerful the message of Jesus is. It’s good to be a part of a family.
• Tradition. I’m kind of corny and I like Advent, Christmas, Lent and Easter. It’s great to be a part of a really old tradition. Sure, I also enjoy the faith implications unlike my atheist friend, but the emotional significance and cultural value of our traditions and their impact on the culture around us cannot be overstated.
• Shared values. I’m not talking about the phony “family values,” of demagogues, the likes who claim they stand for family while at the same time cancelling school lunches and separating immigrant families. But much of what we value today in an ethical sense came from the revolution Jesus started. Even my atheist friend found value in Jesus’ way, His parables and stories, his model for life. The culture – largely – still shares those values and it’s nice to have a local home that reinforces them.
• The importance of ritual. My friend enjoyed our rituals even if they were a little hollow for him. I mean, we’re drinking blood and eating the body of Christ each week, that is going to sound strange to the materialists in our midst. But beyond communion, weddings, baptisms, confirmations and funerals are important life events and our human psychology seems to require some communal rites of passage. We need structure, ritual, continuity and connection in the most important moments in life and who better to share them with than a community of people who love love.
• A place of philosophical inquiry. Despite being a devout atheist, my friend enjoyed philosophical and even theological debate more than most people I know. Where else can you be fed that than inside of an inclusive, non-dogmatic mainline denomination? It’s hard to find people who challenge you and let you challenge back while still loving you. Church is great for that.