In France, an elderly man is fighting to make a formal break with the Catholic Church. He’s taken the church to court over its refusal to let him nullify his baptism, in a case that could have far-reaching effects.

Seventy-one-year-old Rene LeBouvier’s parents and his brother are buried in a churchyard in the tiny village of Fleury in northwest France. He himself was baptized in the Romanesque stone church and attended mass here as a boy.

LeBouvier says this rural area is still conservative and very Catholic, but nothing like it used to be. Back then, he says, you couldn’t even get credit at the bakery if you didn’t go to mass every Sunday.

LeBouvier grew up in that world and says his mother once hoped he’d become a priest. But his views began to change in the 1970s, when he was introduced to free thinkers. As he didn’t believe in God anymore, he thought it would be more honest to leave the church. So he wrote to his diocese and asked to be un-baptized.

“They sent me a copy of my records, and in the margins next to my name, they wrote that I had chosen to leave the church,” he says.

That was in the year 2000. A decade later, LeBouvier wanted to go further. In between were the pedophile scandals and the pope preaching against condoms in AIDS-racked Africa, a position that LeBouvier calls “criminal.” Again, he asked the church to strike him from baptismal records. When the priest told him it wasn’t possible, he took the church to court.

Last October, a judge in Normandy ruled in his favor. The diocese has since appealed, and the case is pending.

“One can’t be de-baptized,” says Rev. Robert Kaslyn, dean of the School of Canon Law at the Catholic University of America.

Kaslyn says baptism changes one permanently before the church and God.

“One could refuse the grace offered by God, the grace offered by the sacrament, refuse to participate,” he says, “but we would believe the individual has still been marked for God through the sacrament, and that individual at any point could return to the church.”

French law states that citizens have the right to leave organizations if they wish. Loup Desmond, who has followed the case for the French Catholic newspaper La Croix, says he thinks it could set a legal precedent and open the way for more demands for de-baptism.

“If the justice confirms that the name Rene LeBouvier has to disappear from the books, if it is confirmed, it can be a kind of jurisprudence in France,” he says.

Up to now, observers say the de-baptism trend has been marginal, but it’s growing. In neighboring Belgium, the Brussels Federation of Friends of Secular Morality reports that 2,000 people asked to be de-baptized in 2010. The newspaper Le Monde estimated that about 1,000 French people a year ask to have their baptisms annulled.

There is much anger across the continent by the recent pedophile scandals. In September, Germans marched to protest the pope’s visit.

Christian Weisner, who is with the German branch of the grassroots movement We Are Church, says Europeans still want religion, and they want to believe, but it has become very difficult within the Catholic Church.

“It’s the way that the Roman Catholic Church has not followed the new approach of democracy, the new approach of the women’s issue,” he says, “and there is really a big gap between the Roman Catholic Church and modern times.”

Back at the church in Fleury, LeBouvier stands by his parents’ grave. When asked if the case has ruined his chances of being buried in the family plot, he says he doesn’t have to worry about that. He’s donating his body to science.

Source: NPR

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I am just going to file this on under, “Stranger Than Fiction”.

The Blaze, Glenn Beck’s online contribution to the world, is so freaked out, so out of their childlike minds they posted this:

“Why in the world would atheists be using a music video that celebrates the burning of churches and bloodied crosses to promote an upcoming music festival? While a viable answer to this question is hard to fathom, this is exactly what’s going on as non-believers prepare for “Rock Beyond Belief,” a massive Army-sponsored music festival occurring at Fort Bragg in North Carolina.

Before we get into this bizarre video, let’s have a refresher surrounding how this atheist music festival came to be. Following a concert that was put on by a Christian group on the base in September 2010, you may recall that military atheists were offended. They began claiming that skeptics, too, deserve an event that celebrates their non-belief. So, after making a ruckus, the military agreed to give $50,000 toward “Rock Beyond Belief” (the same amount had been allocated for the Christian concert).

The event, slated for March 31, will feature various musical acts who celebrate the notion that there isn’t a God governing the universe. Additionally, there will be speakers, a rapper who promotes evolution and more. But it is one band called Aiden that is getting the most attention for its participation in the festival.

Here’s the problem: The song has some troubling lyrics and the video for it includes burning houses of worship, a bloodied cross and other troubling images.



This, in itself, is odd, especially considering that this event is intended to be family-friendly. Will these be the sorts of images and performances that families will be subjected to?

It’s not entirely clear, but at one point in the band’s music video there are images of a cemetery.  It appears to be a military cemetery.  The lead singer, who throughout the video is dressed in clerical fashion, stands among the regimented headstones.  One shot frames the cross at the top of one tombstone.  Are they literally mocking the faith of dead soldiers?

A spokesperson for Fort Bragg says that there will be an examination of song and concert content prior to the performances. Unacceptable language and themes likely won’t be allowed.”

The funny thing is, these images are nothing close to the horrors in my head as a child. The “Good Book” is a treasure trove of images not fit for public viewing. Eternal damnation, pillars of salt, rape, murder, stonings, destruction of entire cities, world floods… You get the idea. Yikes!

Here is the video that has them wetting their beds:

Here is what Fox News has to say: Church-Burning Video Used to Promote Atheist Event at Ft. Bragg

Sex Crimes and the Vatican is a documentary film by Colm O’Gorman, who was raped by a Catholic priest in the diocese of Ferns in County Wexford in Ireland when he was 14 years old. Father Sean Fortune was charged with 66 counts of sexual, indecent assault and another serious sexual offence relating to eight boys but he committed suicide on the eve of his trial. Colm started an investigation with the BBC in March 2002 which led to the resignation of Dr Brendan Comiskey, the bishop leading the Ferns Diocese. Colm then pushed for a government inquiry which led to the Ferns Report.

31-year-old Alexander Aan faces a maximum prison sentence of five years for posting “God does not exist” on Facebook. The civil servant was attacked and beaten by an angry mob of dozens who entered his government office at the Dharmasraya Development Planning Board on Wednesday. The Indonesian man was taken into protective police custody Friday since he was afraid of further physical assault.

The posting was made on a Facebook Page titled Ateis Minang (Minang Atheist), which Aan created. At the time of writing, it had over 1,950 Likes. Aan’s posting has been removed, but supporters on the Page are urging police to release him.

Dharmasraya Police Chief Sr. Comr. Chairul Aziz said the district branch of the council and other Islamic organizations believed Aan had defiled Islam by using passages from the Koran to denounce the existence of God and highlight his atheist views. “So it meets the criteria of tainting religion, in this case Islam,” Chairul told The Jakarta Globe.

On Facebook, Aan said he was brought up as a Muslim. In 2008, however, he came to the conclusion that God could not exist. In addition to his comment about the possibility of a deity, he also declared that he did not believe in angels, devils, heaven, hell, as well as other “myths.” He was aware he could lose his job and was prepared to do so to defend his beliefs.

Atheism is a violation of Indonesian law under the founding principles of the country. Indonesia, the world’s most populous Muslim nation, recognises the right to practice six religions in total: Islam, Protestant, Catholic, Hindu, Buddhism and Confucianism. Atheism is, however, illegal. According to Indonesian criminal law, anyone who tries to stop others believing in a faith could face up to five years in jail for blasphemy.

Aan was charged because he used Facebook to spread beliefs that violate the law. Furthermore, it was pointed out he lied on his job application by saying he was Muslim. Aan asked police investigators: if God really exists and has absolute power, why doesn’t God prevent bad things from happening in this world?

“Like” Ateis Minang on Facebook.

Source: ZDNET

A church in South Africa has been ordered to remove a billboard about non-believers following a complaint from an atheist to the country’s Advertising Standards Authority.

The billboard depicted a man, apparently missing that crucial section of the head that houses the brain, holding his temples in deep thought (lack of brain notwithstanding), alongside a line by the English poet Francis Thompson: “An atheist is a man who believes himself to be an accident.”

In his complaint to the ASA, Eugene Gerber argued that the billboard, displayed outside River’s Church in Sandton, was offensive:

“In essence, the complainant submitted that the billboard offends him as an atheist as he does not consider his existence to be an accident. Secondly, the depiction of a man with an empty head communicates that atheists are stupid.”

The ASA upheld the complaint, and explained in the ruling how it determines what can and cannot be considered offensive in relation to religion and belief:

“… when advertising with somewhat of a religious connotation or connection does not pass comment or judgement, or belittles a basic belief or tenet of any specific religion or belief system, it would not likely be regarded as offensive to that particular religion.”

However:

“the proverbial line is drawn when advertising propagates statements that undermine the dignity and constitutionally protected right to freedom of religious beliefs of any identifiable sector of society.”

By this logic, the River’s Church billboard was deemed to be offensive to atheists because:

“The quote [...] suggests that atheists believe that their existence is a result of an unforeseen and unplanned event. The use of the word believe further strengthens this communication.

Furthermore, the visuals of a man holding the sides of his empty head suggest that atheists are ‘empty headed’ or lack intelligence, presumably as a result of the above ‘belief’ communicated. This is something that would likely offend all atheists in a manner that the Code seeks to prevent.”

A story like this is interesting, because in general we’re far more used to seeing religious complaints of this nature than we are atheist complaints. I was alerted to it by Tauriq Moosa, a South African blogger, and he has some good points to make about how it relates to free speech, arguing that atheists should be against such complaints because “it concerns how we defend and articulate free speech and expression, since, by definition, free speech only make sense if you can defend the right of your worst enemies to express themselves too.

It reminds me of something that happened here in the UK at the time of the Atheist Bus Campaign, when the evangelical Christian Party launched a counter-campaign with bus ads saying “There definitely is a God. So join the Christian party and enjoy your life”. Large numbers of atheists complained to the British ASA about this, with some arguing that it was a claim that cannot be substantiated and other arguing that it was offensive, making it the country’s fourth most complained about advertisement of all time.

Of course, those bus complainants were perfectly within their rights to complain if they wanted, and the same goes for the individual who complained about the billboard in South Africa, but, in my view, if atheists wish to stand at the forefront of defending free speech, such action isn’t exactly helpful. If atheists want to be able to say what they like about what others believe, they have to accept that religious people can do they same. In fact, they should welcome it – it’s called free debate, and it’s actually quite a straightforward way of maintaining a free society.

Source: New Humanist Blog

A pupil who led the battle to force a school to tear down a ‘religious’ banner is facing vicious abuse from online commenters, who say she ‘brought hatred upon herself’.

Cranston West High School has covered up the banner encouraging its pupils to be kind to one another while it appeals against a judge’s decision that it violated the First Amendment.

Atheist student Jessica Ahlquist, who said the banner was offensive to non-Christians, has been the target of religious web users angry at the decision.

One man posted a message on Twitter saying: ‘I want to punch the girl in the face.’

A woman posted: ‘I hope there’s lots of banners in Hell when you’re rotting in there you atheist f***.’

Another sent her a message saying: ‘How does it feel to be the most hated person in RI? You’re a puke and a disgrace to the human race.’

Miss Ahlquist is now considering whether or not to stay at the Rhode Island school, and said: ‘The friends I lost weren’t friends in the first place.’

The banner at Cranston West was judged to promote religion because it takes the form of a prayer addressed to ‘Our Heavenly Father’ and concluding ‘Amen’.

Apart from its opening and closing, the banner does not appear to have an overtly religious message.

It asks that students should have ‘the desire to do our best’, should ‘be kind and helpful to our classmates and teachers’ and ‘bring credit to Cranston High School West’.

School officials argued that the banner, which had been hanging in the auditorium for nearly 60 years, was a historical artifact.

But U.S. District Court judge Ronald Lagueux ruled in Miss Ahlquist’s favour, deciding that the presence of the banner in school violated the separation of church and state.

David Bradley, who wrote the prayer as a seventh-grader in 1963, told WPRO he was angry about the decision.

‘I am upset, disappointed and not to say outraged,’ he said. ‘It’s a shame that some judge with an appointment out of a Cracker Jack box can make a ruling like that.’

He described Miss Ahlquist as a ‘trained seal’ who was being controlled by the American Civil Liberties Union.

But the pupil, a junior, today described her delight at her victory in the case.

‘I’m so glad and proud that the right decision was made and that the constitution was upheld,’ Miss Ahlquist said.

‘This country was founded to be a secular country. We’re supposed to keep church and state separate so people can have their rights and their freedom to choose. And I think that this lawsuit is a reflection of that.’

The decision was supported by Lincoln Chafee, independent Governor of Rhode Island, who said: ‘This is a clear-cut violation of the constitution.’

Watch the ACLU Press Conference with Jessica Ahlquist

See the screenshots of the worst threats at: jesusfetusfajitafishsticks.blogspot.com

The Clergy Project

The Clergy Project is a confidential online community for active and former clergy who do not hold supernatural beliefs. The Clergy Project launched on March 21st, 2011.

Currently, the community’s 130 plus members use it to network and discuss what it’s like being an unbelieving leader in a religious community. The Clergy Project’s goal is to support members as they move beyond faith. Members freely discuss issues related to their transition from believer to unbeliever including:

• Wrestling with intellectual, ethical, philosophical and theological issues
• Coping with cognitive dissonance
• Addressing feelings of being stuck and fearing the future
• Looking for new careers
• Telling their families
• Sharing useful resources
• Living as a nonbeliever with religious spouses and family
• Using humor to soften the pain
• Finding a way out of the ministry
• Adjusting to life after the ministry

Visit clergyproject.org/

Clergy Project Founder, Dan Brown talks about the project on The Thinking Atheist Podcast.

See also: ABC World News with Diane Sawyer – Atheist Ministers Struggle With Leading the Faithful

See also: The Washington Post – Disbelief in the Pulpit

Johnson says he started doubting Mormonism when he was 18, but out of a desire to please his family, and still not knowing who he was, he turned in his mission papers and set out to serve an LDS mission. While 18 months out, however, he was exposed to contraband by a secular humanist, stuff like the movieReligulous and Richard Dawkins’ book The God Delusion. Johnson says the exposure opened his mind to new possibilities.

“I remember having a distinct moment where I was like, ‘There is no God,’ and that was a liberating moment,” Johnson says. “I tried to do the rest of my mission without being too much of a hypocrite.”

After his mission, Johnson “did the whole returned-missionary thing for about a month, and felt really bad about it because my family paid for my mission. They had this big banner on my house when I got home, and I thought, ‘Crap, how am I going to tell them?’”

Johnson, who says he’s usually been the sort of person guided by logic, felt like he couldn’t keep going, pretending he was a believer, and resolved to share his disbelief with his family. Doing so, of course, wasn’t going to be easy.

Despite the difficulty, Johnson mustered the courage to divulge his revelation to his parents. The response wasn’t well received at first, especially by Johnson’s disappointed mother. But after a while, he says, things calmed down. And that’s when he discovered a support group of sorts for former Mormons-turned-atheists in Salt Lake City.

After attending a few meetings, Johnson, a Lindon resident, realized he couldn’t be alone in his religious skepticism, even in Utah Valley, and decided that a group could be formed closer to home. With help from others, Johnson formed the Atheists of Utah Valley, a group where other like-minded individuals could convene and support each other. Meeting over coffee in Provo, they’ll plan group discussions and occasionally have guest speakers, or they’ll plot group activities like hiking trips or even sky-diving jaunts. They’ve talked about joining the Adopt A Highway program and lobbying the Utah Valley University library to stay open on Sundays, as well.

According to Johnson, such a group is of vital importance in a religiously charged environment like Utah Valley. Those who leave the Mormon religion often don’t know where to turn, and can quickly be overcome with feelings of desperation.

“When I [became] an atheist, I thought I was the only one,” Johnson says. “If I had somebody to show me that there were others, I definitely would have joined up.”

A LARGER TREND?
It’s common for young adults to become disinterested in religion and pursue their own goals and interests, and this increasing “spiritual disengagement” is drawing the attention of researchers. A 2010 article in Christianity Today, citing various studies, says that the percentage of Americans claiming “no religion” doubled in about two decades, up from 8.1 percent in 1990 to 15 percent in 2008. A substantial 22 percent of 18- to 29-year-olds claimed no religion, up from 11 percent in 1990. Also, 73 percent of these younger people came from religious homes.

The same article makes reference to the research of Robert Putnam and David E. Campbell, authors of a 2010 study called “American Grace: How Religion Divides and Unites Us,” which shows that the younger generation is dropping out of religion at five to six times the historic rate. The trends are starting to draw the attention of religious sociologists and leaders, with some attributing the pattern to the aforementioned normal breakaway that youth embark on. But more and more are wondering if, generally speaking, religious influence is simply holding less sway on the younger generation.

The Christianity Today article concludes by suggesting that religious groups, in order to stop the emigration from their rolls, need to “undertake the slow but fruitful work of building relationships with those who have left the faith.” Yet, building these relationships may prove difficult for those who find irreconcilable differences between their true beliefs and the teachings of their former church.

FALLING AWAY
For former LDS missionary Chris Merris, a BYU graduate, the idea of forging a new relationship with a church he no longer believes in isn’t plausible. In fact, he says he resents those who try to instigate that sort of reconciliation and those who try to change the church while remaining members.

“I think I have more problems with those who stick around in it and want to reform it, as if it’s some sort of democratic thing,” Merris says. “There’s this whole movement, like ‘New Order Mormons,’ for people who have become intellectually disenchanted with the church, but they still want to be a part of it. But it’s an invalid organization from the foundations up. Why reform that? Just leave it.”

Merris found out about Johnson’s group after reading an article about it in The Daily Utah Chronicle, the University of Utah student newspaper. The idea of atheists in Utah Valley, where he lives, piqued his interest, and he decided to check it out.

“They’re like the nicest group of people that I think I’ve ever met in Provo,” Merris says of the Atheists of Utah Valley. “Very welcoming, very open.”

Merris’ own falling away, like Johnson’s, began on his mission. Serving in nearby Ogden, he began getting into books of deep doctrine at the library, exploring controversial issues about the Mormon faith that weren’t necessarily church-approved. This eventually led him to anti-Mormon literature. One book he came across, One Nation Under Gods: A History of the Mormon Church, shook him up so badly that he had to consult with his mission’s zone leader.

“I was like, ‘Yeah, I don’t know, man, some of the stuff made sense,’” Merris recalls. “And he’s like, ‘Well, I had the same experience, and so I have a question for you. How did you feel when you were reading these things?’ And I was like, ‘I didn’t feel really good.’ Then he’s like, ‘Well, then you know it wasn’t of God.’ It made enough sense to me at the time—making sense obviously having nothing to do with reality.”

Certain heavy-handed practices required by his mission also made Merris feel uneasy about his religion. He says that he and other missionaries were encouraged to go beyond the normal missionary discussions with prospective new members, implementing such things as what they called the “Joseph Smith pray now.” This involved getting missionaries and prospective new members to pray in a circle about the reality of Joseph Smith’s status as a seer, and then, after the missionaries testified about feeling the spirit, asking the prospective new members to share their feelings. He says that such methods amounted to manipulation and put pressure on both the missionaries and non-members involved.

“We psychologically manipulated people—it was very clear,” Merris says. “Now that I’ve read about psychological experiments and look at them in that context, I’m like, ‘Yeah, we were clearly manipulating those people.’”

Even after these mission experiences, Merris continued his participation in the LDS Church, eventually coming face to face with the next logical step for a returned missionary—temple marriage. While dating one girl, Merris says his crisis of faith returned due to issues with the idea of revelation.

“I had a revelation that I was supposed to marry a girl, then I had a revelation that I was not supposed to marry her, within a couple weeks of each other,” Merris says.

Well-meaning family members tried to help him, suggesting that one of these revelations was inspired while the other was not. Merris, however, did not find these suggestions helpful.

“Looking back on it, it was ridiculous,” he says.

After these events, it wasn’t too long before Merris’ mind, which still couldn’t make sense out of much of the church’s doctrine and history, eventually gave up trying to justify and rationalize his faith. In going through this process, Merris says he realized the connection to religion is hard to break mostly because of emotional connections.

“I think I’ve known logically it’s not true for a long time,” Merris says. “But it’s still the emotional attachment that’s there. You have so many neural networks built up around it, it’s in the background, and I still feel like I have some of that stuff underlying.”

Merris believes this realization can only come after the fact, when one leaves their faith behind. Even as he believes he manipulated people, he believes he was manipulated, leaving him without the necessary skills, at the time, to leave the church.

“I think I couldn’t see problems before because I didn’t have the right critical-thinking tools,” Merris says. Ultimately, Merris says, logic and critical thinking made him realize that he could no longer be a participating member of his church.

A SHIFTING WORLDVIEW

For former missionary and Atheists of Utah Valley group member Nick Godfrey, similar problems with the church were fundamental to his loss of faith.

Doubts began to circle in Godfrey’s mind about one year after he returned home from his LDS mission. Frustrations with the church culture and its rules regarding morality, which he found confusing, led to disillusionment. One day, in a moment of introspection, Godfrey allowed himself to consider the possibility that the Mormon church wasn’t true.

“In that moment, my entire worldview shifted,” Godfrey says. “Everything that had ever troubled me about the church suddenly made sense. I no longer had to square evolution with the story of Adam and Eve that I had to take literally as a Mormon. I no longer had to play mental gymnastics trying to justify the belief that God made the priesthood conditional on race, or that the Book of Abraham papyrus translated incorrectly, or that the story in the Book of Mormon is contradicted by archeology, linguistics, genetics and pretty much every other scientific field.”

It was an interesting time for Godfrey to be questioning his beliefs, as he had an assignment to go speaking in the wards in his stake about his missionary experiences, had a teaching calling and was a veil worker at the temple. After six weeks, spurred by discovering the online community PostMormon.org, Godfrey talked with his parents and explained to them his issues with the church. Even though his parents are devout Mormons, Godfrey says, they have been accepting of his departure from the church.

“They have handled my disbelief as well as I could have hoped,” he says. “We’ve reached a place of mutual understanding and still have a great relationship.”

Godfrey is lucky in this regard. For most people, talking to their family members about their lack of belief is something that is too intense or painful. And for Atheists of Utah Valley group members who attend BYU, being open with their families is usually not a viable option, as they could either lose their ecclesiastical endorsement or lose money from their parents. “While attending BYU, it’s better to kind of keep them in the dark,” says one student who wanted to remain anonymous for fear of how her family would react. “I’m not afraid of what they’ll think, it’s purely for money reasons—just scared of the money going away.”

What concerns Johnson most about this is that it illustrates a problematic, conditional acceptance within families. The idea that one’s relationship to their parents should be so tenuous, depending on whether one believes in God or not, is unsettling to him.

“I think it’s a little indicative of our relationship to our parents that the [LDS] Church puts more importance on being a member and believing in God than the actual family itself, “Johnson says. “That’s what scared me, thinking that my parents would think of me second to their religion. I think that’s what scares a lot of members. They’re scared of losing their family.”

A BATTLE OF CONSCIENCE

Bruce Harr’s move to atheism had less to do with finding the church to be lacking than it did with his general well-being. Growing up in an LDS family, Harr was taught that praying, bearing testimony and fasting would lead to a confirmation of the truth of the church.

“Unfortunately, this never happened,” Harr says.

After first leaving the church, Harr moved in with a family who was very active in the church and started attending once again. He received his Duty to God award, given to young Mormon men who complete certain priesthood, became an Eagle Scout and served a mission, earning high marks from his mission president.

His frustrations with the church resurfaced, however, after returning home. Despite trying to fight off secular temptations by immersing himself in his ward’s choir and throwing away all his R-rated movies, the world of sin beckoned Harr. The ensuing battle of conscience proved to be a huge obstacle in his life.

“It seemed the harder I tried, the worse it was for me,” Harr says. “One bishop expressed his discouragement to me by telling me that he hated seeing me back in his office every week. I stopped attending church at that point and resolved to figure my stuff out before I went back.”

Not long after again quitting attending church, Harr’s father died in a car crash, several months after having revealed to Harr his own doubts about Mormon theology. In order to deal with the grief, Harr sought out a therapist. Although LDS, the therapist helped Harr see that many of his problems and frustrations emanated from the pressures he felt his religion was heaping on him. This counsel led Harr to question the legitimacy of the institution he had followed most of his life, leading to a re-evaluation of all that he once believed.

“This kind of opened my mind to the fact that the church may not be the end-all authority on all subjects,” Harr says. “My opinions on things like homosexuality, the word of wisdom, the death penalty, guilt, the value of faith and the source of morality started to change.”

Though this process opened Harr’s mind to new possibilites, it was also painful to finally leave the religion that he had invested so much time into and that was an important part of his family.

“On the one hand, I felt relief from the oppression of the church, and on the other hand, I was stressed and unhappy at my ‘outcast’ state from my community,” he says.

For relief, Harr began attending a group in Salt Lake called Jack Mormons. To see former Mormons who were well-adjusted surprised Harr, as he’d been taught differently.

“I met several other post-Mormon people who seemed happy and functional despite the negative image I had had of those who left the church,” Harr says. “My perception of people who left the church was that they were miserable and sinners and always bitter.”

It was at this group that Harr learned about the Atheists of Utah Valley. After visiting them, things began to get better and Harr’s adjustment to life without God settled in.

“My life started to change dramatically,” he says. “I was social again, I had friends and I started getting out of my house to do things.”

The next step was one that proves difficult for many Mormons-turned-atheists—telling his family. Harr began this process by dropping hints via Facebook and being more vocal about his new liberal outlook. As his postings on Facebook became more direct, so did the concern of his family members. Although his mother has been supportive, others in his family have not.

“My sister moved out of my house when I left the church because she ‘needed a more positive environment,’” Harr says. “My extended family has responded in a variety of ways, everything from condemnation to complete support and understanding to being asked not to come to family functions anymore.”

Despite the fallout, Harr does not regret leaving his church.

“It has definitely been a roller-coaster ride,” he says. “But I’m glad I’ve come out and am finally able to live my life the way I want to, and not the way the church wants me to.”

FINDING A NEW PATH
Groups for atheists, especially former-Mormon atheists, are found all over the state. Many of them are assisted by UCOR, the Utah Coalition of Reason, the group responsible for billboards with messages like “Don’t believe in God? You are not alone.”

Nascent groups like the Atheists of Utah Valley can use as much support as they can get, according to Johnson, who says the need to connect and engage in meaningful activities with other people who have left religion behind is important, considering how difficult it can be for individuals to make a leap away from their churches, families and lifelong support systems.

“A lot of people have come and actually told me that they’ve felt some kind of desperation or dismalness, and once the group had been started and they could come to meetings and express their feelings and have a better experience socially, their life has improved,” Johnson says.

Diego Ibanez, an organizer of the group, says it helps people realize what Harr felt after attending a post-Mormon group, that “it’s OK to be happy as an atheist,” and that members learn that they “can be comfortable being atheist in a society that doesn’t tolerate that or doesn’t like having us here.”

“I feel like what we’re trying to do and express is being a voice for people like that, specifically in Utah, because if they ever need a voice, it’s in Utah.”

Godfrey quickly learned that simply displaying one’s status as an atheist can lead to hostile reactions in Utah.

“This summer, I put a bumper sticker on my car which simply read ‘Atheist,’” he says. “It was torn off in less than a week. A couple weeks later, I bought a similar sticker, which I put on my car along with a Human Rights Campaign sticker. They were also torn off in less than a week.”

Leaving the LDS church, especially for returned missionaries, doesn’t always make sense to their families and others, and as Ibanez points out, many still don’t take the decision very seriously.

“One of the things we face is that if you don’t go to church, you must be dumb, you must not understand life, you don’t know what you’re doing,” Ibanez says. “That’s something that pushes a lot of us to further understand what it means to be atheist and try to imagine what a secular society looks like.”

Source: www.cityweekly.net