“The fool says in his heart, There is no God. They are corrupt, their deeds are vile; there is no one who does good.”

Psalm 14:1

Jesus Christ, David. Lighten the fuck up for God’s Sake.

I’m an atheist; no shit. And I go to church; oh shit! Does that surprise you? Shock you? Do you not read the title of articles, you lazy bastard?

Truth is: we’re all atheists to a point – I just go one god further than most. I mean, do you believe in Zeus? And that isn’t a slight, or snub, against anyone who believes in a god; be it Yahweh, Allah, Jesus Christ, Ganesh, or Fred Rogers.

Yet, I go to church on a regular basis. Why you ask? Good question. I still don’t truly know. But I keep coming back. Maybe it’s my intense curiosity; I keep learning all sorts of neat stuff about how a church is run (did you know that a church has, in a sense, a board of directors?); as well as the different types of denominations (a fuck-ton!) So, all you curious atheists out there, think of this as an insider’s look of attending church from a complete newbie.

This article is also for you religious church-goers as well! If you’ve never met an atheist, or have any preconceived notions of an atheist – here I am! See? I don’t bite  . . . hard. Not all us atheists are mean, some of us are super nice! I mean, fuck you, I’m not one of them, but I have some atheist friends with really good personalities; you should meet them.

Now, I don’t have the balls (ha!) to claim that this article will, somehow, unite atheists and believers with the single power of the written word; especially my written word, but if I can get at least one atheist who thinks all religious people are mindless zombies and a believer who thinks all atheists are guard dogs for Darwin, to find each other, sit the fuck down, and have a goddamn civil conversation; then I’ll call it a success.

So, I’m an atheist who attends church. How did that even start, you ask? Nunya business ya nosy dick  – I’m dating the church pianist. Is that petty? Fuck you: when we first met, I thought she was smart, funny, attractive, and an overall kickass woman; so I wanted to get to know her more. That’s what you do when you like someone right? That was over a year ago and, since then, I have met so many people and learned so many things about attending church and its members; some of it is awesome, some of it I have problems with; none of which has anything to do with faith. For instance –

1. CHURCH IS A NETWORK HAVEN

Jesus fucking Christ do a lot of people attend church! And, a fair number of these people have really nice jobs; really important jobs! At my church alone we have journalists, musicians, college professors, business owners, political lobbyists, and even a goddamn candidate for State District Representative! I didn’t know anyone like this before! Prior to attending church, my most high profile friend was the one who could win at Monopoly (and that guy’s a fucking cheater!)

Why didn’t anyone tell me about this? I could have been rubbing elbows with people who had access to job opportunities, charities, or even more important people. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not in for the schmoozing (well, not just for the schmoozing), but growing up with such an impressive, self-assured community would have been great!

I mean, there are babies that attend this church with better access to people with impactful, impressive, even admiring influences in the community than I do as a 37-year-old; and I don’t even piss myself several times a day (when I’m sober); completely my fault for lack of trying, by the way. Keep in mind, I’m in no way blaming my shitty excuse of social networking throughout my life on anyone, or anything, other than myself. I know about gatherings at colleges, social events in the community, even bars and lounges; but I had no idea church was a mecca of social interaction. It seems silly when I say it to myself, and I’m sure most of you reading this think, “How the fuck can someone be so beautiful, yet so dumb?!” I appreciate the compliment, but I honestly had no idea. I thought a church was the place where people (strangers!) worshipped, maybe sang a little song or two, and then went back to their regular lives.

Of course, I knew most people who attend church knew of each other. But not like this! I’ve been invited to parties, programs, social gatherings, charity events, protests; the list is endless. It’s like a living, breathing Facebook; except the only thing recording my every action is some imaginary dude who wouldn’t allow me into heaven anyway because I want my dangly-bits chopped off – but I digress. Everyone I’ve met is caring, affectionate, supportive, and very nice –

And therein lies a problem. “A problem with gaining an amalgamation of new friends?” you ask as you put down that thesaurus. Well, let me backtrack a bit: if you haven’t read my previous articles, allow me to introduce my feelings to you. I’m pretty sure I have marginal, borderline Borderline Personality Disorder (the disorder is called: “Borderline Personality Disorder – I think I’m just on the borderline . . . marginally) Either that or cancer; WebMD is weird. Bundle that with my abhorrent perspective, strong skepticism, and jaded worldview; and you got yourself a big ol’ box of cynical, nihilistic, disenchanted “Kiko-Os” cereal (try it with dark chocolate milk!). In short, I can’t help but ask myself: why is everyone so nice…

I may lose some church friends over this, but once again; I’m keeping the promise to myself (for the sake of my own mental health and sanity!) when I started writing this blog – be as open and honest to myself, as well as my readers, as possible; no matter how frank, emotional, or raw it gets.

I get the feeling (and it may well be an incorrect feeling!) that almost all of my new church friends are nice because . . . they kind of have to be.

This isn’t subscribing to the notion that church-goers are mindless zombies. I even find myself being extra nice during church. I get why a church ought to be a place where everyone feels safe; and, as an atheist, transgender, lesbian, Hispanic, woman; I never feel safer than when I’m at church; but, I can feel some sort of unspoken, agreed-upon obligation, constantly pushing you to be your best, most supportive self you can be pulsating through the air like some sort of fucking Bob Ross-empowered EMP.

And perhaps this is a good thing! I mean, does it really hurt anyone that there’s a place where compassion and empathy lead the way, even if the authenticity is in question? Perhaps if there were an agenda. And if they do have an agenda, they’re sure as hell playing the long game: I’ve been going for over year and not one person has tried to change who I am. Perhaps everyone’s genteel nature is genuine; I feel it’s, at least, the most genuine I’ve experienced anyway.

I know this is going to make some of my atheist friends cringe while they sit on their pretentious toilets as they read this: but, because I feel so welcomed, I even donate some of my time to the church. Hey speaking of donations! –

2. CHURCH DONATIONS HOLD UNIMAGINABLE POWER

Churches rely on donations, so I’m in no way saying donations should stop going to them. Nor am I saying donations are bad in general. Hell, I’d surgically invert my dick if someone would donate the funds to pay for my Gender Confirmation Surgery.  

However, did you know the power nested within a donation? It’s something I still try to wrap my head around. Let me give you an example: let’s say you have a sweet old lady as your neighbor. Let’s call her Doris. Now, Doris isn’t just a sweet old lady; she’s a fucking angel incarnate. She brought you food and comforted you when your mom died last year in that tragic gorilla accident, she always wishes you a good day, she drinks Coca-Cola, if you catch her out mowing her lawn in the evening, she’ll wish you a good night too. She’ll even come over occasionally just to catch up, and you always say yes, because she’s the sweetest goddamn lady you’ve ever met!

Now, imagine Doris comes to you one day and says, “You’ve been such a great neighbor!.” You blush because Doris told you this! She goes on, “I want you to have something that’s been with my family for years.” Then, she hands you something stupid like I don’t know, let’s say a lawn ornament of two short gnomes with big, white beards fucking each other; or something like that. You appreciate the gesture, you really do, but having a colorful, detailed, ceramic sculpture of two small old men really laying into each other; both their faces forever trapped in a wrinkled mess of teeth-bared anger and euphoric ecstasy is something you don’t want in your yard (maybe your bedroom . . .) But, dammit, Doris gave you this! You have this overwhelming sense of obligation to display it because, if you don’t, then you might disappoint her; disappoint this wonderful, sweet, sexually confident old lady. So, of course, you put it out. On your yard sits a fleshy web of tiny legs and arms forever wrapped around each other in a display of gnomish sensual love.

That’s how it is with a church! Patrons donate stuff all the time and the church is obligated to use them; be it a nice new bench that the church needs, or a case of fucking pool noodles that the church now has to figure out how to use.  

I also wonder where the hell’s the limit too. I mean, what if I donated a bag of floppy dildos to my church. Would they use them? Actually, knowing my church, they probably would; for sex education or something – god I love my church.

Also, because I’m a little shit that likes to rock the boat, I want to see what would happen if I donated something that’s slightly better than what someone else donated. Say a long-time member donates a nice fancy piano to the church. Say, in response, I donate a nicer, fancier piano. So, what happens now? There’s not enough room for two pianos. I honestly don’t know, but damn am I curious to find out.

Once again, this isn’t to say that donations should stop. But I will say something that churches are too chicken shit to put in their weekly bulletins:

STOP DONATING YOUR FUCKING JUNK TO YOUR CHURCH!

Old clothes? Fine! The church can re-donate them to charity. Old canned goods? Absolutely okay! There’s plenty of starving people. I’m not talking about that shit. I’m talking about your shitty drum kit with torn, duct-taped drumheads, a broken bass drum pedal, and fucking cymbals that, somehow, have bite marks in them! Stop donating shit like that! Because now, the church has to use that drum kit. They don’t want to offend you or step on your toes, so they have to use it. And this shit doesn’t go away when you die either. If the church even considers tearing down that fucking drumkit after you die, then there will be an Elder, or a Deacon, or even an older member that thinks the church is, somehow, disgracing your legacy; or memory, or some shit. So stop it!

Or don’t.

Who am I to tell you what to do? Maybe your junk can help the church. Who knows. The meaning of junk changes from one person to another; that’s a tad bit existential, and perhaps a debate for when my church does it’s Pub Theology during a round of drinks –

“Hold on a sec,” I hear you ask. “Discussing philosophy during a round of drinks? A church that openly accepts atheists without intent to change them? Ditto for LGBTQA folks? What the hell kind of church is this?” I know, right? That’s another thing I learned about the church –

3. THERE’S A FUCK-TON OF DIFFERENT TYPES OF CHURCHES – EACH WITH DIFFERENT BELIEFS

I’m not here to sell my church to you. I’m not a recruiter – well, I am; technically. That’s my “job” job out in the real world; it’s what I get paid for – but that’s for a school, not for my church.  Anyway, I would like to hit home the sheer number of denominations, beliefs, and types of churches there are out there.

If you’re not a church-goer, can you honestly tell me the difference between a Baptist Church and a Presbyterian Church? How about the different types of Christian denominations like Catholic, Protestantism, Eastern Orthodox, and others? And! Each of these denominations has their own multiple families! Just under Protestantism, you have Baptists, Lutherans, Methodists, Calvinists, and a shit-ton more. And! Under each family, you have multiple churches, each with their own sets of beliefs! Just under Methodism (which, remember, is itself under Protestantism), you have the United Methodist Church, the Church of Nazarene, The Wesleyan Church, and even the goddamn Salvation Army.

Oh, you didn’t know the Salvation Army was a church? Yeah! Every time you’ve shopped at their thrift stores, or threw change into those tiny, bright red cauldrons during Christmas; you’ve been donating to a fucking church – a fucking church with questionable practices (at best!) and policies towards the LGBTQA community; ya homophobic twat!

There are more church denominations than Lularoe leggings (almost) and just as many wanting you to join their shitty club; with shitty promises, and even shittier rewards. But, that’s the beauty of variety. You have options. I never imagined you could browse around for a church that fits your beliefs, personality, and even style like it’s some sort of fucking Ecclesiastical Tinder App (don’t you even think about stealing that idea! It’s mine!)

Don’t get me wrong, I knew there were different churches, I’m not that dumb (well…). Just driving down the street here in Cow’s Dick, Missouri you see all sorts of churches; each one claiming to be “First” for some goddamn reason. Some even claiming to be “open” to people like me: depressed fatsos; only to try and change who I am later. Eventually, though, you stumble upon a church that slides right in, hurts a tiny bit, but feels amazing. When you find a wondrous (presumably ribbed) church like that; it makes you reconsider some old opinions you had about churches in the first place. And that’s what happened to me, courtesy of a church pianist (thanks Babe!)

I hear you whining, “But, what if I’m not a transgender, lesbian, atheist with utterly horrific depressing insecurities? What if I want to bash the homo-queers?” No problem! There lies the beauty of the variety of denominations! No matter what beliefs, or philosophies you hold; there is a church for you. Over hundreds of varieties, all stemming from a philosophical singularity: a god, a bunch of texts, and their writers. I haven’t seen this much branching from a single point of reference since I discovered the Smash Bros. Community.

It’s so interesting to me that, due to the variety of churches, members become a reflection of the church. “So, your church is like some angry bitch who cusses way too much?” I hear you ask? Well . . . yeah, kind of; if the anger stems from mistreated refugees and the plight of the LGBTQA Community. Too liberal for ya? Don’t fret; there are way more churches on the exact opposite side. People flock to churches on either side because, as a total surprise to me –

4. CHURCHES AREN’T ALWAYS ABOUT RELIGION; OR GOD

Churches can be cathartic in a way; a millennia-old social experiment feasting on the human brain’s desire for inclusiveness; to be a part of something; to feel like you matter. I mean, you don’t matter; not in the grand scheme of things (still an atheist!), let’s not kid ourselves. But, while you’re here on this Earth, in the cosmic fraction of a blink of an eye; it’s nice to feel a sense of belonging; to feel loved. Sometimes, it can save a life; mine included.

No amount of words can describe my loneliness. Even with all my friends, with all my family, my love life, my online communities, my video gaming buds, my blog fans (both of you!) – some days it’s still hard not to drive off a bridge on my way home from work.

To prevent that from happening, I try to surround myself with the most caring people I can find. My life has been a journey for support, belonging, and love. If I just keep adding to that list of people, then someday, I might actually love myself as well. Until that day, I’ll keep adding to the list. The church was like a huge love dump to the face that completely missed the hair and eyes (y’know, perfect). A place that accepts me for who I am; atheist and all. Yes, my church still talks about god, and yes my church still talks about the Bible; mostly as symbolic morality stories, and that’s fine; I don’t care. The church doesn’t care that I don’t care. And I don’t care that the church doesn’t care about that!

I found a church that preaches Love, above anything else, is the most important characteristic in a person. Like a timid, curious tranny-chaser; it’s something I can get behind.

There is so much hate in the world, and for what? For power? For wealth? For pride? For you believers, here’s some insight into an atheist’s mind; well, my mind anyway (Buckle. The fuck. Up.) When we die; that’s it; nothing: non-existence. For some, that’s a scary thought; although it shouldn’t be. It’s not like you’ll be alive to be sad; I mean, were you sad for the billions of years you didn’t exist before you were born?

And that’s kind of the point. Although I’m not a fan of Richard Dawkins (yes, atheists can hate other atheists), he made a good point that’s always stayed with me; so I’ll butcher it for you right now: Yes we will die, but that’s a good thing because it means we got to live! You are a lottery winner; it’s a genetic lottery, but a lottery just the same. Think about the trillions of factors that could have happened in order for you not to be here. Your parents had to meet (think of all the ways that might not have happened!) They had to have sex (bear with me). Think of the millions of sperm that could have changed who you are. And not just the sperm! Think of the time in the life of your mom when it happened. The time of day it happened. How long the night of conception took (bear with me!!) Think of all the trillions of factors that could have prevented you from being . . . you.

Yet, here you are.

You have the gift of drawing a one-out-of-a-thousand-trillion chance of being alive. To take this gift and not share its joy with anyone else with the same gift is a fucking waste! You have the capacity to treat others with as much love, acceptance, and inclusiveness that you yourself crave. In the thirteenth chapter of 1st Corinthians, it says the greatest thing that will forever endure is Love. Not Hope; not even Faith – but Love! And yet, many of us don’t. It’s the most selfless thing you can do; to show compassion, to show empathy for your fellow human being. To let them know that you know it’s hard out there. That you understand that life’s tough. And when life has weighed them down to their knees, engulfed in blinding despair; all they have to do is reach up, and your hand will be waiting; because you’ve been there yourself; and someone’s hand was waiting for yours.

My church is another hand, another option, I have in my moments of despair. I figure, the more hands I have to reach out to, the more likely one of them will catch mine as I sink further into the bland numbness of my inevitability.

Does that make my church a crutch? Perhaps, but I’ll take it. Does that make me weak? Not at all. Besides, I’ve come too far to worry about others think of me.

I’m an atheist. I don’t believe in god. But I do believe in Love. And, yes, I’m aware that the Fourth Chapter of 1st John states, “God is Love”; but the Bible also says in the 21st Chapter of Matthew that Jesus kills a fig tree out of spite because he was hungry and this tree had the audacity to not be in goddamn season! So God is love, yet Jesus hates Figs. Fuckin’ Bible, man.

At the end of the day; we all strive for the same things: love, compassion, and empathy for your fellow human beings. I just so happen to find a church with those same principles. I never found that from a bearded, mythical freak in the sky.

Fuck you God; I’m going to church.