One of the inevitable questions I get when I visit any family that is not my mother: Do you go to church? This is followed by a sterile 'No' on my end, and the also inevitable rebuttal: Well, you should go. I wish I was exaggerating about this.
The pressure to believe in God within my family is strong. It is assumed that I am lost without a church home, that I must go to church to ensure my salvation. If I believed in God, I would still tout that as a fallacy; I didn't like church when I was a believer because it just isn't necessary and I'd much rather spend my Sunday mornings in bed. Yet, the hold that Christianity has on Black people does not yield, and my family is one that is very religious. As time passes, I find myself struggling to assert my identity as an atheist, but also reconcile how I feel about supernatural life, especially as it pertains to any certain deity.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
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