I Was Raised An Atheist, But Something Completely Unexpected Turned Me Into a Believer

·        After my experience, being an atheist is impossible

BY ANNE-MARIE YERKS

It was the first day of the first grade. ​My family had just moved to Muscatine, IA because my dad had got a new job. My new teacher was a crisp, efficient woman named Mrs. Huff. Our first assignment? A connect-the-dots of baby Jesus lying in a wooden cradle. I completed it successfully, received a checkmark at the top and took it home to my parents.

They looked at each other solemnly. "This was what you did at school today?" my father asked.

Later that night, I heard him talking on the phone. The phrases "public school" and "separation of church and state" were part of the conversation. I felt like I had done something wrong, but I wasn't sure what it was.

The next day in class, Mrs. Huff handed out a new assignment: We were to color a picture of  the Virgin Mary. I made sure to choose a good shade of blue for her robe. I knew what the Virgin looked like because my grandmother had pictures on the wall. And I'd been told by my Grandmother that my own first name, Anne-Marie, was a dedication to Mary's spirit.

Mrs. Huff came up and ordered me to give the Virgin Mary page to her. In exchange, I was given a secular coloring book page — I believe it was a donkey.

This was the first of many experiences as an atheist child. Eventually, I was trained how to not speak the words "under God" when reciting the pledge of allegiance (basically, I just didn't say them). Christmas carols that mentioned Jesus, God or angels were also out of the question. My parents told me that I could sing along as long as I understood that God, Jesus and angels weren't real. Bible stories were "fairy tales" that some people unfortunately believed in.

This was the late '70s, and Madalyn Murray O'Hair was sending Richter-scale-level shocks throughout the country with her campaign against prayer in public schools. Her group, "American Atheists," was the most hated in the country (eventually, she and her family were brutally murdered). My dad was a dedicated member; he read their magazine every month, circling important things with a red pen.  He attended meetings whenever and wherever he could find one and invited other members into our living room for long discussions that often accompanied liquor and cigarettes.

His atheism had sprouted in the oppressively Catholic home where he was raised. He went to parochial schools, served as a choir boy, observed every religious holiday and attended Mass twice a week. Once, when I was in my twenties, he even confessed he'd been sexually targeted by a priest. He admitted that naming me "Anne-Marie" was a result of his own ignorance. He had been raised so solidly Catholic that he couldn't think of a girl's name that didn't derive from the dogma.

For me, growing up atheist wasn't cold and sad at all. We celebrated every holiday, referring to Christmas as "Saturnalia" and Easter as "spring solstice." What weren't permitted were beliefs in superstitions like the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. And just because we didn't believe in God didn't mean we didn't study religion: I had an expensive, illustrated book of Bible stories to read so I'd have knowledge of these important cultural narratives. I wasn't interested in the book, however. Free thought was taking my spirituality in an unpredictable direction.

As a teenager, I became fascinated with psychic phenomena. Dream interpretation and analysis, out-of-body and near-death experiences, tarot cards, crystals, ghosts, power animals and hallucinogenic drugs were my favorite topics. I read about them endlessly. At 17, I took LSD for the first and only time in my life. It was a stupid decision, but it was an astonishing experience: During the twelve or so hours that I was tripping, I regarded the universe in ways that are simply impossible to consider during ordinary consciousness. I don't recommend taking LSD; it's a dangerous drug that can cause brain damage. But I do think that the acid trip led to my destiny, and I would do it again to be where I am today.

After my experience with LSD, I found it impossible to be an atheist. Fortunately, my interest in mysticism has branched into healthier directions. I learned about yoga, meditation and the foundational philosophies of Eastern faiths. Understanding that God isn't necessarily an entity, an icon or a picture on a coloring book was how I steered myself away from atheism. I now think that there is a higher power and that it's everywhere. The song by Joan Osborne comes to mine: "What if God was one of us? Just a slob like one of us? Just a stranger on the bus, trying to make his way home?"

I suspect that that's exactly what God is: Us.