Huh?
Anyway, my parents never went to church and never took me to church. When I was about 8 some friends joined a group called “Explorers”, so I did too. It was run by some local church and it had vaguely religious undertones but I just ignored them and played with my friends.
My mom had been raised Mennonite, and my dad’s parents weren’t religious at all.
**MelCthefirst ** claimed never to have heard of God as a child, which I find a bit hard to believe. I was wondering whether MelCthefirst, while a child, had ever sung the NZ national anthem God Defend New Zealand.
Jewish. My parents were not atheists, but not especially religious either. I think my grandfather was, on the other hand my father’s mother was very religious, but she died when I was 2. I went to Hebrew school, got bar mitzvahed, the whole bit. I went to High Holy day services with my father regularly when I was in Junior High and High School. I had no bad religious experiences, but one reading of the Bible with some notes on how it was really written was enough to make it clear that it was all made up.
I suppose learning from childhood that the majority religion was full of it helped me get rid of the last bits of god belief also.
My father was Catholic, my mother Southern Baptist. I was raised with both traditions. Catholic schools, SB sunday school. As I grew older my family fell more and more awy from the Baptist stuff and leaned more towards the Catholic.
Neither of my parents was very religious. they believed in God but they weren’t nutty about it. I think the church was more or less a social thing for them (I guess my dad was much more into it when he was younger, though. He seriously considered the Seminary but decided on the Air Force instead).
I realized at a very young age that I didn’t really believe in God but I never told anybody until I was an adult. I guess I was afraid everybody would freak out but my parents didn’t really care at all. I think I actually felt a little disapointed that my big, shocking reveal (“I don’t BELIEVE in God”) didn’t elicit much more than a couple of shrugs.
Atheist parents, waivered a little in my teens but eventually decided that my parents probably had it right. I suppose I’m more agnostic than atheist because I do entertain the possibility that there might be more out there than we are able to understand or know, but for all intents and purposes, I’m an atheist.
Fairly religious (Church organist) Anglican father, secular Jewish mother. I’ve never had religious forced upon me and have wound up agnostic. It’s not so much that I don’t believe as that I don’t care.
Funny story: my grandmother was actually second generation Catholic but thanks to being in Germany in WW2 her family was forced back into being Jewish, which she remained until she died of old age in the mid 90’s.
Father was raised a strict catholic, which pretty much soured him on religion as a whole, so there was no religion in my upbringing. The one time I asked about it I was told “That’s for you to decide when you grow up”, so the issue stayed on the back burner for a while. We did go to easter mass once (I think my grandfather guilted my dad into it), and I remember my parents being very apologetic about it. Got ice cream for not whining.
I guess my first big eye opener was when I was eighteen and in USMC boot camp. I decided to go to church for no other reason than it was the only chance to get away from the drill instructors and relax for an hour. At first I went to the protestant service but it was all “Stand up, sing, sit down. Stand up, sing, sit down.” On and on and on. So then I went to the catholic service because you could just sit there and space out.
Regardless of the denomination, the message was the same: “When we send you overseas to kill brown people, god is behind you.” A main function of the chaplaincy appears to be convincing soldiers that they are not actually breaking a commandment, as long as they are following orders. Sgt. Hartman’s christmas speech in Full Metal Jacket is a classic example of the attitude.
Boot camp was probably the first time I ever so much as applied critical thought to the subject. It didn’t take me long to conclude that religion was invented as a means of controlling others.
My mom died when I was a year old - and she was a devout Roman Catholic.
My dad was Baptist, then converted when he got married. After her death, church wasn’t that much of an issue.
My (maternal) grandparents, otoh, were very devout and gave religious instruction (and regular church visits) when we visited every summer. They meant well, so I didn’t bother rebelling, just learning how to spend up to an hour quietly thinking about something else. Law of unintended consequences: Being patient in church while somebody is droning has been a lesson I’ve grown to appreciate greatly over the years. But, anyway, I only saw them a couple of months out of the year, so it was no big thing - we just understood that when we went to see them, we’d get a dose of God. 
Anyway, the lesson didn’t really stick - one time, when they visited us in Atlanta, my father took them to the regularly scheduled 10:30am mass - only to find that the church was closed, that it had moved a couple of blocks away. My dad, caught in the act of being Exposed for Not Taking the Kids to Church, sputtered… “But this wasn’t in last weeks bulletin!” 
So it was kind of the best of both worlds - I got some religious instruction, but it wasn’t constantly oppressive (other than my wife, my grandparents are the greatest, most positive influence on my life), and I also lived most of my life with the understanding that it was pretty much a choice of whether or not you wanted to believe.
However, had my mother lived, this would’ve been a different story. She, like my grandmother, made sure that her kids were active in church. I have no idea how I would’ve handled that, so I don’t even speculate.
As for me, it’s not the idea of “God”, the creator of the universe, that I don’t believe, but the story of Christianity is pretty hard to swallow: God sent his son down here so we can feel guilty about killing him… and therefore, one will have eternal life if you accept your part of the guilt in what happened 2,000 years ago? You then have to concede that, yes, Western Civilization was rewarded for killing its God so it, eventually, gets the scientific method that allows it to conquer the globe for 500 years. I mean, last time I looked, the guy who made the decision to off God was Italian… and they get the Renaissance.
Wtf? How the hell does that work? I can see it as in those commercials…
“I’ve got an idea!”
“What?”
“If I send Jesus down to Earth… they’ll kill him. And then I’ll let them know that, ta-da!, you actually killed my boy! And if they admit that they killed Jesus, and feel guilty about it, and then believe that he’s actually my son, I’ll grant them modern civilization so they can conquer and pollute all those people who didn’t kill my only son!”
“Brilliant!”
“And get this… I’ll be very vague about it. It’s not like I want to do anything to settle the issue once and for all, like appear out of thin air to every man, woman, and child in the Universe… no, that wouldn’t work. The indirect approach is all they need to know the One True God! It will convince everybody!”
“Brilliant!”
clink
Born and baptised as a Methodist, then first 5 years of schooling at a Roman Catholic Convent, then 7 years in multi-denominational Christian schools, then 2 years military service under an overtly Christian government, and on and on and on.
My nearest steeple is an easy par 4 from my house, and I can ride a bike without building up a sweat to what is arguably the largest charismatic church in Africa.
And I’m still an atheist.
Grew up in a non-religious family.
Me and my brothers went to Sunday School, but on reflection it was probably only so my parents could enjoy a bonk on a Sunday morning…
I was raised Humanist. My dad was some form of weak episcopal something back during the depression. I don’t recall my mom ever mentioning that she was a member of a church as a child, and we had no induction to any belief as kids.
I attended church and synogogue with my friends occasionally, but mostly because we had Big Plans to do something fun once they were sprung. Sometimes we’d go by and grab a prayer card so my one friend could convince her mom that we actually went . We discussed religion openly around the house, though my interest has always been about the architecture and art; not the religion itself.
I was raised Roman Catholic, going to church every weekend, Sunday school, the sacraments, the works.
My parents, brother and sister all still go to church and believe in God.
I think I stopped believing in God about the time I stopped believing in Santa. I’m just not wired that way.
My parents stopped forcing me to go to church the weekend after I was “confirmed” and I haven’t been back since.
I don’t dislike the church and actually have nice memories of going to mass but it really doesn’t make sense to do if you have no faith. In my teens I was a little more in-your-face about atheism. My wife’s father still thinks it’s a phase we’re going through.
My parents were believers, I reckon, but they didn’t make me go to church. I grew up in the Bible Belt, though, and religion permeated the social fabric. Since the most fervent ones were also the most idiotic, I took that association to mean that religion/belief in God was stupid. Of course, that’s not necessarily the case, but I still associate religion with stupidity, and won’t go anywhere near it. However, my wife is a Quaker, and I let her take my kids to meeting, because I want them to at least have some exposure so they can make up their own minds when the time comes.
Weak atheist.
Raised Church of England by a fairly devout mother and less devout father (who only recently got confirmed). Weekly chuchgoer at the behest of my parents. It was the confirmation classes that finally made me think about the whole thing, and I woke up the morning after my confirmation, at the age of 14, as an agnostic. Stopped going to church, to my parents’ displeasure, and have progressed from there.
I was raised Roman Catholic. We went to church every Sunday, I went to CCD and to Catholic high school.
I started having my doubts about religion and god about the age of 14, but I just played along.
Like ** Harvey the Heavy**, while I was in boot camp I had the chance to attend a great variety of religious services so I went to all of them, but none of them took I guess. So now I am a non-theist Humanist and happy to be so.
Brilliant. Just freaking brilliant.
I am stealing this line should the situation arise.
Interesting how many Ex-Catholics are here.
**To blather on, I did have an A-ha moment of Why Religion Wouldn’t Work For Me. **
When I was a lass, I was allowed to read a book in church as long as it was religious (not the bible, that was never encouraged. Not allowed to think for yourself. Just take orders from the Priest…hence, IMHO, the altar boy as sexpots problems.) So, i took with me The Book of Saints. I loved this book. I wanted to be a saint. Die some dramatic death Kid from Princess Bride: Death is good. so I can become a statue in some church somewhere and have a bunch of kids pray to me for intercession and I would deny them because they were all spoiled whiners.
I couldn’t decide if I wanted to be like St. Stephen, who was shot with arrows by some heretics. Or my Namesake, St. Joan of Arc, who went up in flames. who died young, heard voices in her head that gave her the courage to lead men into battle and was illiterate!A modern day Hollywood starlet! Or the variety of other martyrs who died via a non-spicolli stoning. Wouldn’t that be freaking great! (oh the pain! Oh the suffering! Surely, the more of it would the faster ticket to heaven and Sainthood!) If you don’t suffer, you are doing it wrong and must be ashamed! Guilt: it’s what’s for dinner!
But one saint always bugged me. Couldn’t figure out why in my young mind, but she stayed iwth me for years, eventually hitting the back burner of figuring her out.
I was in my mom’s basement and came across my beloved Book of Saints for Children book ( each saint gets one page and a condensed version of their horrific death and martyrdom.) and it opened to ST. Rose of Lima (several online accounts of her story have been de-nuttified or re-written.)
Essentially, in the various Catholic Saints books I had, said she was considered very beautiful and the daughter of a rich man. She just wanted to serve God. ( Ok, that’s fine.) But ( in my books) she decided that her beauty was detracting her from her dedication to God with all the young bucks courting her for her obvious parental money and status. So, she rubbed her face with something sharp ( ground peppers or broken glass are the two I’ve come across ) to disfigure herself.
Nutty Goodness!
Now, I ask you, in this day and age, would this not be a sign of mental unbalance?
Which is why yadon’t see some many saints anymore. They are all medicated and productive members of society.
I now return you to your regularly scheduled thread.
I was raised Episcopal and I was a devout believer when I was young. In my early teens, I started asking questions for clarification and the answers that I got (and didn’t get) started me looking for myself. In the course of looking for answers to support my religious beliefs, I found out that all organized religions are nothing more than a con game.
I am now an agnostic, and have been since I was 16 or so.
Mom was raised Catholic, apparently had a Quaker spell. Then she met my raised-Jewish dad and started going to synagogue, even though she never officiall converted. I was raised Jewish.
I never liked it, mostly because I never wanted to go to synagogue. I knew my mother had been forced into Catholicism, and her forcing me to ‘be’ Jewish always reeked of hypocrisy. Sometime when I was young (maybe 10?) I started having my doubts but kept playing along. Eventually, my beliefs solidified when I was 13, and I told my parents I just wasn’t Jewish. (Cue 5 or so years of fighting).
Previously I’d have considered myself a ‘weak’ atheist, but a few months ago, I studied the bible, and that really solidified my atheism.
I think the RCC makes it the easiest to leave. They throw so many out on their own and their history has such a long tradition of hypocracy. If you read history it is hard to treat the office of the Pope very seriously.
Baptized Lutheran, attended Baptist church, went to a Presbytarian bible school in the summer. In Sunday school I was a hellraiser and often got into trouble for challenging Christian dogma.
This led to a lot of thinking and soul searching and a quest to find truth by myself. My parents are Christians (they stopped going to church when I wanted to stop) but they aren’t hardcore. They believe but don’t prosyletize.
I started studying the Bible, the Torah, Buddhism, and Native American sprirituality when I was about 10 or 11 and through this process began to understand that I wasn’t truly feeling any of it. By the time I hit 14, I wrestled with it daily, nightmares and full blown insomnia was a result. Then I finally decided it was all bullshit and became a dogmatic atheist until my early twenties.
I still don’t believe in any god but I’ve released myself from the dogmatic statement that “there is no god.” If there is, well, I’ll admit I’ve been wrong. But the whole “cosmic big daddy” thing just doesn’t sit well with me. I’ve struggled to wrap my mind around it, but blind faith does not fit in with the things I do believe in.