In response to the recent post of mine entitled Christian Marrying a Non-Christian? Marriage: FAIL, an atheist friend of mine, David B., wrote the following:
I’m a bona fide marriage expert. Not because I have some fancy Ivy League degree hanging on my wall, nor because I’m a published marriage counselor—no, I’m a marriage expert because I’ve been married twice. I’m a big believer in the school of you-don’t-know-it-until-you’ve-done-it. Having done it twice, I now know it twice as well. Hence, marriage expert.
My first marriage was to a lovely woman of like-spirituality. We were both humanists (which is a fancy term for do-gooder atheists) of Jewish descent. That marriage failed when she realized that she didn’t love me. ME! How could she not love me? You probably don’t know me, but I am very lovable. I know this, because my second wife, an even more lovely Christian woman named Rachel, told me so. Rachel also told me that our marriage is a resounding success, and I believe her. We both have no doubt that we will be together until we die, at which point we will be separated. According to her, I will go to hell and she will go to heaven—or, in my version, we will be dead. Either way, we won’t be together anymore, and that’s sad.
But how can this marriage really be a success? Rachel is a Christian and I am a heretical Jewish humanist. How can we fully be together when we don’t share the same spirituality? How can we unleash the full potential of our marriage if we have a spiritual chasm between us? How can we possibly understand each other when we approach life so differently? What will we teach the children? For Pete’s sake, think of the children! (If anyone knows Pete, or why he cares about the children, please let me know in the comments—oh, and tell him I want back my copy of ABBA Gold.)
As tempting as it was to ignore the problem of our differences and hope it went away, Rachel and I talked about it, and decided that since we valued our marriage too much to leave it to chance, we would be proactive about addressing our differences: we’d do it the hard way. What is it about Jews and Christians that they need to suffer to feel alive? Wait a minute, maybe we aren’t so different after all! No, that’s not it. We’re different. Might as well face it. We’re really, really different.
Women and men are different. Christians and people of other faiths are different. Christians of different denominations are different. Republicans and Democrats are different. Bostonians and San Diegans are different. Mice and men are different. Even Milli and Vanilli are different—in fact, they aren’t even themselves.
I am not a woman who was born in San Jose, CA, grew up on a farm in upstate New York, matured in Washington, has six siblings, and is passionate about her family and her faith. I never will be that woman, and while I can understand her, empathize with her, feel pretty in her clothes, and love her deeply, I will never really know the depths of her experiences or the convictions of her beliefs. No one will, except God (if you’re into that sort of thing). I don’t want to be her Savior, I want to be her husband. I want to spend every day getting closer to her and knowing her more, faith and all.
Everyone has faith of some kind, even atheists (we can’t prove there is no God, we simply believe there is no God). By recognizing your own faith, even if it’s belief in mammon—or as Washington Irving called it: “The Almighty Dollar”—you can understand how essential faith is to the core of our being. Everyone has the ability to relate to the fervent wholeness of faith, and to understand how it can permeate every aspect of one’s life. You don’t have to share the same faith to know how your spouse feels about their spiritual connection. It’s the universal feelings that come from faith, even if the faiths are different, that are the foundation from which you can connect, share, learn, and grow. Your marriage won’t fail over differences; there will always be differences. It will fail if you are not honest with each other, and lack respect for one another—spiritually or otherwise.
Marriage is a partnership. Each partner brings the best and the worst parts of themselves to their marriage, and the success or failure of their union depends on how they embrace the good and the bad. In a successful marriage, two people, who are different by virtue of being people, find the common ground on which they relate to each other, and use that as a foundation. They grow toward each other by learning about and respecting their differences, and then stay together by willingly meeting each other’s needs, whether they fully understand them or not. That last part, that really hard part—that’s love.
That love is what my interfaith marriage is all about. Rachel would call that the manifestation of God’s love and grace in our marriage. I call it my profound privilege to be able to spend every day of the rest of my life growing a little bit closer to my wife.
************************************************************************************************************************
Email: johnshore@sbcglobal.net
Follow: http://twitter.com/johnshore
Befriend: http://www.facebook.com/john.shore1
Be Fan: http://www.facebook.com/pages/John-Shore/89494795412?ref=s
Posted by Heather on November 18, 2009 at 4:31 pm
I am currently engaged to the sweetest man I have ever known. We have so much in common, and he is supportive of everything I do. I am currently struggling with how my family will react to him because I was raised in a conservative Christian home and he does not believe in God. I believe in God, I just don’t believe in all the dogmatic views I was raised with. We are so happy together, and this posting gives me hope that our marriage can succeed.
Posted by Kisseliss on December 15, 2009 at 2:59 pm
This post made me cry, so I had to reply…
My daughter’s father is agnostic and we have fallen back in love and started dating again. My family is so upset with me because he’s not a christian. In fact, they were glad we decided to split when I became pregnant.
I’m having a lot of anxiety because my family won’t accept him due to the fact that he doesn’t believe in God. I get scolded for spending time with him and I’m constantly being told that we are not putting our daughter first. This is not the case.
This post boosted my spirits and made me realize that our relationship isn’t “DOOMED.” I copied, pasted it and saved on my computer to inspire me when I’m feeling judged!
Thanks!
Posted by John Shore on December 15, 2009 at 6:27 pm
Kiss: I’ll make sure the guy who wrote this letter sees your response here; I know he’ll be glad for it. Thanks very much for writing in.
Posted by Kay on April 7, 2010 at 9:53 am
This is one of the most beautiful posts I’ve ever seen on the nature of Love. Thank you! You give me hope that there are truly great men out there.
I was loosely raised Southern Baptist & Lutheran. The hellfire & damnation in Baptism turned my mother & myself off completely . We eventually found a Lutheran church with a really great pastor. He didn’t “preach” he just talked to us about finding our own way while following not merely the letter of the law, but it’s spirit. He commented that the letter of the law was often written for that particular time, and that we should study the Law, and find it’s deeper meaning, the underlying truth about what was required of us, and apply that to our lives as best we could. After the hellfire and damnation of a “literal word of God” church, this was liberating. I had always had serious reservations about a number of Christian doctrines, but the message of this pastor lightened my heart, and made me reconsider. This was in the South, in the late 70s. To my young and fairly sheltered eyes, other than Christian and Jewish, there really wasn’t much out there. I had heard of Buddhism and Islam, but no details, and no knowledge about where to go to learn more. When I left home, that church was too far away, and I was again exposed to the kind of Christianity I despised. After doing more study on the core concepts, I decided I couldn’t accept the dichotomies. It didn’t fit. I knew what I felt & believed to be true about the nature of deity in my heart & soul, I just didn’t know what name to put it under. I left, and I’ve never looked back.
A few years later I found pagansim, and it really fit. No pressure, no proselytizing, no threats of eternal torment, no notion that we mere humans will automatically make bad choices unless were are told what to do by some priest. I wasn’t being told to surrender my Will to some nebulous deity with a brutally violent history of sexism, persecution, and abuse. I wasn’t being told I had to obey some scripture whose origins are questionable at best. I was encouraged to think for myself, to figure out what I wanted, what I valued, and how to live in a healthy and responsible way. Not because some Deity decreed it, but because it contributed to my overall health & happiness, and gave me some peace in this crazy world we live in.
I did a lot of research, the thought patterns and how individuals were valued was very important to me. This works for me, and I’ve been on this path for 20+ years. Early on, I was fine with interfaith dating. Not anymore. Please don’t take this personally, but in no way could I ever date a Christian again. I’ve met a very few Christians who are genuinely fine people. Warm, open and non-judgmental. I know a number of people in interfaith marriages, some happy, some not. I’m not against them, that’s their choice, but it’s not for me. My world view is so different than that of a Christian, I find I need someone who really understands how I think, and they have a hard time with that. My boyfriend of 8 years is a Taoist, and while our beliefs aren’t identical, they’re very compatible. It works. I can’t imagine being married to someone who believes we are born damned.
His family has a hard time with it. They are what I call “general Christians”. They hold to the core beliefs, but do their practice in their daily life rather than in a church. They kind of ignore that their son is not Christian anymore and hasn’t been for a decade. When it comes up, they get very uncomfortable. We don’t discuss what I believe. Period. They know by how I’ve treated their son that I’m a not a bad person. He explained some of my core beliefs in a very simplistic way when we first started dating, but it’s not something they know enough about to have a grip on. In general they just prefer to ignore that I don’t even remotely believe what they do. So what’s the downside? Several of his family members are very religious, and not in a good way. There are family things that he would like passed to him that he will never have. The family basically believes that if something happens to him, that I’d trash their heirlooms because I don’t share their beliefs. This has been going on for years, valued possessions going to family who is likely to sell them for the money once the grandparents are gone, rather than to my boyfriend who would love and cherish them. All of it is based in fear. His sister finally told us what was going on in the family meetings he never knew about. He’s very upset, and so am I. If he died, anything from his family that was given to “us” while we were together, or only has interest to them, I’d return to them. Heirlooms should be with the people who will love and value them, and I’d be going against his wishes to do anything else. Things from my family would go to my uncle or my cousin. It’s all very simple and logical, but apparently they don’t believe I have enough decency to honor his wishes.
Which brings me to my biggest gripe about Christianity. In my experience, they act as if they have a “lock” on all that’s good. If it’s good, it must be Christian. If someone of another faith does good things, they are in shock. To them, it’s just not possible to be a good person without being Christian. Never mind all the lying, stealing, cheating, abusive priests, politicians and businessmen who are “Christian”. Faith, Charity, Good works, all are looked on with suspicion if you’re not Christian. I don’t do good deeds because it’s “commanded” of me, I do them because I have a kind and generous nature, and it’s how I want to be treated. I don’t want to live in a world that’s mean and has no grace, no kindness. So I do my best not to create it. I’m not perfect, heck, I’m venting here….. but I try to be my best as a whole person, the good and the bad.
In the end I guess I’d prefer that people have “faith” over “religion”, but it’s also my experience that too many humans are nothing more than cleverly disguised sheep who have no desire to think for themselves.
Thank you for letting me vent.
Posted by Sarah on April 7, 2010 at 9:24 pm
First of all, allow me to add my appreciation of this post to the already long list of fans. This is an issue I was confronted with a while back and still never came to a solid answer on, but reading your insights – and the astounding love and respect that exists in your relationship with your wife – was very insightful indeed. I agree with some of the comments that it would, typically, be something sad (at least for a Christian) to know that the person they loved would not be spending eternity with them. I’ve heard the theory that those in heaven will no longer care, but I don’t know if I agree with it or not, and frankly the thought of spending my entire life with that knowledge in the back of my mind would be painful for me, if I truly loved the person (which I would have to, to marry them, right?)
I would also like to add here a response to Kay and Kisseliss: I’m not sure how much this will mean to either of you, but I would like to express a very sincere apology to you both for your life experiences with Christians – the harshness and judgment you’ve dealt with at their hands/words…etc. As a Christian, I try to be as accepting of all people as I can possibly be. It is sometimes hard to know where to draw the line between accepting and going against ones own beliefs, but it would be nice if more believers tried a little harder. I know there are a lot of well-meaning (or at least they think they are) Christians who do the exact opposite of their hearts intent – they turns people off and offend them.
For my own part, I am still a young person and still learning the nitty-gritty details of the Christian faith. I was raised in it, but I also came to a point where my intelligence begged for a more solid foundation than simply what my parents had been feeding me. I can say with all sincerity that I believe in an Omniscient Creator who loves me just as a am, regardless of how well I do or don’t do in this life, so long as I love Him and am doing my best to live a life that is pleasing to Him, and that I came to this decision regardless of my family.
To Kisseliss specifically, go to the Word. Look through the scriptures to support your choices, or at the very least to use in defense against the way your family is treating you. I know from experience that it is very hard to be in discord with ones family, but if you are using God’s word to show them how their treatment of you and your boyfriend is wrong, or how the choices you are making for yourself and your child may be right, they cannot stand against you. If they will not support you out of love, then they (if they truly believe themselves to be Christians) will support you because it is written in the Bible.
Posted by Aged Parent on April 8, 2010 at 11:08 am
What a wonderfully respectful and thoughtful discussion.
My husband and I both came from Jewish families – his parents were Orthodox and mine were somewhere in between Conservative and Reform. His father was … well … let’s say very zealous, and would tolerate no point of view that didn’t match his own; his mother believed in doing whatever it took to make other people happy, even if that meant living according to principles that were not one’s own.
My husband rejected the Orthodox “rules” and became an ecumenical free-lancer; whereupon his father disowned him. I eventually decided that while I’m neutral about the existence of “God,” I do not believe what people say about “God.” My parents never tried to “convert” me to their way of thinking, mostly because they treasured each other’s invdividuality and therefore could do no less than respect mine.
So I guess that means he and I are in a “mixed” marriage. But we’ve been married for nearly 53 years, and while we’ve disagreed about many things – we argue a lot about politics, for example – we’ve never fought over religion, because we both agree that religion is personal and each of us is entitled to our own views.
We didn’t fight over how to raise our children, either. We just let them know that it was okay for their parents to have different religious beliefs, and that it was okay for them to differ with us, too.
Please notice I haven’t used the word “faith” at all in this context. Like Kay, I reject the idea that unless I adhere to a set of tenets handed down from above, and practice certain rituals according to “the book” – no matter what! – I’m doomed to eternal damnation, or whatever the punishment du jour happens to be. Unlike Kay, though, I’m still fine with interreligious dating and marriage. It seems to me that stable and loving marriages are based on mutual respect that includes appreciation for each other’s differences even though one might not fully understand those differences. I can’t imagine being married to a man who couldn’t respect my convictions even though mine don’t align perfectly with his own, and I sure don’t like being around people who insist theirs is the only way to think, believe, worship (or not) and behave.
Posted by Mrs. Muhammed on April 8, 2010 at 11:56 am
Sarah wrote, It is sometimes hard to know where to draw the line between accepting and going against ones own beliefs, but it would be nice if more believers tried a little harder. I know there are a lot of well-meaning (or at least they think they are) Christians who do the exact opposite of their hearts intent – they turns people off and offend them.
I think you expressed quite well the difficulties my dear right-wing evangelical, fundamentalist, literal Bible thumping friends and relatives faced when they heard I was dating a Muslim. On one level I very much understood their frantic concern and earnest confrontations, and if our positions were reversed, I might have said many of the same things and perhaps worse. So that kept my offense in check, at least somewhat. But some rifts are permanent, and I feel that by making the choice to marry him in spite of all the opposition, I have weakened the close relationships I once had with many of my beloved people. I know my sisters both agonized with their consciences over whether or not to attend my wedding. They loved me and earnestly desired my happiness, but they were so thoroughly convinced that my decision to marry this man was a sin against God, and furthermore, they had a responsibility to their preteen daughters, to shelter them from exposure to my dreadful example, that it put them into a terrible quandry over whether or not to attend my wedding.
If I could have worn a millstone around my neck and plunged into the depths of the sea, I would have gladly done so, just to save my nieces from my poisoning influence and spare my relatives from all this agony over my decision. But no millstones were handy, and I really wanted to marry the guy, even if I half believed the dire warnings about hellfire and damnation. So I closed my eyes, plugged my ears, and walked down the aisle.
It was a ridiculous wedding ceremony, to be sure. I would have infinitely preferred to just do the deed in a courthouse somewhere–no guests, no fuss, no cake, no gifts. But my parents would not have considered me married unless I did so in front of God, so my tolerant, long-suffering husband-to-be and i sucked it up and agreed to the venue–a museum that USED to be a church (still had a big-ass cross hanging over us as we exchanged vows), officiated by an obnoxious minister chosen by my parents for no other reason than that he was originally from an African country that was home to a sizable population of Muslims. I don’t know why my parents figured this qualified him to officiate, but he agreed to it, and I suppose my parents didn’t think many other ordained ministers would, so he got the job. In the end, all that mattered was that we were legally and civilly married, and if it made my parents sleep better at night to know that it was a quasi-”Christian” wedding, then I suppose it was worth it.
We’ll mark the seventh anniversary this summer of our successful, happy marriage. I went through a period of anger about two or three years in, when I realized that my marriage was successful and happy. It really pissed me off to think that a lot of ideological rigidity would have prevented me from marrying this fabulous man. It seems to me that in today’s world of globalization and tolerance, the conservative commitment to doctrinal purity and ironclad sectarianism is a thing we should leave behind in the interest of modernization and enlightenment.
We now have two kids, even though we’re not at all sure how to raise them religiously. My husband practices a tolerant and inclusive Islam, and has never expected me to convert or change my beliefs. He respects the culturual values of my faith, and in fact these shared values make us very compatible as parenting partners. I support his faith practices, and encourge the kids to take part in his daily prayer rituals. We don’t eat pork–it’s not hard to avoid. That’s really about it. As far as what to teach them to believe–well, I like what some other posters in this thread have shared about child-rearing. I would like my kids to grow up in the understanding that different people believe different things about God, and that they needn’t have a religious label to have faith–or, if they do choose a label for themselves, it should be an educated and freewill adult choice rather than an inherited one they are stuck with and are obligated to carry along with the family name.
So I guess it is evident to the reader that I do not honestly beileve that my husband is damned to eternity to hell unless he recites the sinner’s prayer, nor will my children suffer the same fate unelss they believe the “correct” doctrines. I long ago concluded that evangelism was at best a benign nuisance, and at worst, offensive harrassment. I am grateful that my husband thinks it is sweet and touching when my relatives share their testimonies with him in their blatant efforts to convert him. He was really amused when I related to him what my mother once said, “I believe he MUST be a Christian because he acts so much like one.” He told me that his mother likewise believes that i must really be a Muslim because I’m such a nice person. If that sort of reasoning makes our marriage more reassuring for our mothers, then so be it. Our parents deserve the security and serenity of their insulated faiths, and we have no wish to disturb their peace.
It was really frightening at first to stake out my own uncharted path with no precedent to follow. I didn’t know anyone else in my broad evangelical experience who married outside the faith as I did (unless you count the one cousin who married a Catholic). But now that I’m “out”, I can’t imagine ever wanting to get back in. or wanting my children to be raised in that cocoon. I feel that I am now finally an adult and am responsible for my own independent thinking. I want my children to be well educated critical thinkers, fluent in a constellation of faiths and cultures that represent our global community.
Posted by A Letter « A Thought Chronicle on April 9, 2010 at 12:14 pm
[...] http://johnshore.com/2008/09/22/letter-from-an-atheist-married-to-a-christian/ April 9, 2010 Eva Categories: Relationships Tags: Life, Love, Marriage, Random, Relationships [...]
Posted by mdjgirl7 on April 12, 2010 at 1:27 pm
I really liked your letter. I am in a very similar situation. I am the Christian and my husband is the Atheist. At first I was very sad of him and in a way I still am. I know God is in control and it is not my job to change him. It is my job to love him just the way he is:-)
Posted by cdd on April 17, 2010 at 4:51 am
I could’nt resists posting my few (okay more than that) sense worth. So here goes..I was brought up by two God-fearing parents and have always considered myself a Christian. The first Church my dad brought us to, was in actual fact a cult. That coupled with other circumstances led my family excluding my dad to stop going to Church. In the span of about 6 years I’ve prayed and built a relationship with God. However, my understanding of the Bible’s teachings were shaky. Within those 6 years I met a non-Christian who truly loves me for who I am and for being a Christian. I was warned by others about getting into a relationship with a non-Christian but did not understand the degree of disapproval God and fellow Christians would have. My perspective was that I’d rather find a man who truly loves me and would take care of me than a Christian who doesnt (example of my parents). I started going to a different Church more than a year ago and am suddenly bombarded with the fact that my relationship with my boy friend is a sin. My boy friend has felt pressured (my fault) to convert and I know that scared him. But he loves me dearly nonetheless and does his best to understand me. We were both brought up in a traditional family where dating isnt really heard of and being in a relationship means that we have the intention to marry in mind. One thing good about this situation is that it has made me work hard on my faith because for him to understand, I must understand first. Thank you for your post it has given me hope. Although I will never stop hoping my boy friend will one day convert, Im glad im not alone in the journey of love and understanding that you and your wife and my boyfriend and I will embark on. Thank you.
Posted by janedough on May 4, 2010 at 8:22 am
I just came upon this post randomly, and as a “most-of-the-time” christian married to a “pragmatic optimist with zero faith” (his words) it was pretty much exactly what I think I needed to read. Thanks!
Posted by Litesp33d on June 22, 2010 at 12:20 am
It always makes me smile when I hear a religious person say something like
“The first church i went to was a cult”
Surely a cult is a religion whose beliefs differ from your own.
It therefore follows that ALL religions are cults.
When you have done comparative study of religions other than you own this becomes obvious.
I was christened but became more atheist as I read the Bible. After reading this book I don’t know how anyone could worship this God of the Old Testament who is arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction: jealous and proud of it; a petty, unjust, unforgiving control-freak; a vindictive, bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser; a misogynistic, homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, filicidal, pestilential, megalomaniacal, sadomasochistic, capriciously malevolent bully . And Jesus agreed with all the previous teachings.
Did you know the King James Bible was put together by a committee in the 1600′s primarily tp prove King James had the divine right to govern England and Scotland at the same time? And this is offered as a divinely inspired text.
Statistically atheist based marriages end in divorce LESS often than religious ones presumably because at least one of the parties enters into the relationship with both eyes open to the reality of the commitment rather than with both eyes closed in prayer for god to make it all OK. And as there are no gods this explains a lot.
Posted by Teemu on August 31, 2010 at 11:29 pm
Litesp33d, there are lies, bigger lies and then there is statistics. Properly interpreted statistics show that atheist divorce way more. In those numbers that base your claim, they just asked if you are divorced and what is your religious affliation. They didn’t ask if you had been ever married. When that important question was asked atheists had way higher divorce rates.
http://www.wnd.com/index.php?pageId=42582
Atheist divorce rates would be even higher if you counted cohabitation with mutual wanted child and break up after that.