A conversation I will remember forever

Amtmann · 27-02-2012 12:49pm #1

For many of us who grew up Catholic in rural areas, the moment when you realized that you didn't believe in God was a profound one. I was eight, and felt utterly alone, like I was burdened with a terrible secret I could share with no one. It was a great relief to one day confide my lack of belief in a friend and find that he shared my views. We both knew then that we weren't alone, and that there were probably others.

A lot of time has passed since then. Twenty-one years, in fact. But I still remember that day vividly, and the sense of relief that washed over me, knowing that I wasn't an aberration. Last weekend, I went home to visit my family and decided, while there, to drive the few kilometres to my grandmother's house. She is 80 years old next week, and looks wonderful for her age. Her husband died 20 years ago, and she attends mass dutifully. Along with her friends, she decorates the altar in the parish church with flowers each week.

I sat down and we began a conversation. It started off with the usual banalities: How is work? Where do you live now? Who are your housemates? Would you like some apple tart? Then she asked me about my hobbies. I told her that I am thinking of doing a BSc in Astronomy, for reasons of personal fulfillment. Normally when I mention this to people, their eyes glaze over; but to my surprise, my elderly grandmother, who left school when she was 11 and spent her whole life working on a dairy farm, and who had heretofore never mentioned anything scientific to me, quizzed me thoroughly about the planets, their atmospheres, and their moons. She wanted to know what space probes were where, and what they had discovered.

Gradually, the topic veered towards the origins of the universe. As the conversation evolved, I decided to tell her about my recent defection from the church. She listened attentively. Then she said something that shocked me. She said that while receiving ashes last Wednesday, the priest told her that she had come from ashes and would return to ashes; and in that moment, she thought to herself "that is certainly right". My grandmother did not believe in God.

For the next two hours we spoke at length about it. For the longest time, she has had no belief. But she had never told anyone. Ever. Apart from me. The relief that my friend provided to me when I was eight, I was now providing to my grandmother at 80. Of course, she was aware of atheism; but she'd never talked about her own atheism to anyone else, because she did not know how to justify her position, and because she seemed to be in an immediate minority of one. But she enjoys the structure that her church-going activities give her, particularly in the years since her husband's death. Arranging flowers for the altar allows her to meet her friends and gives her something to do.

When I got home to my parents' house, my mother asked how the visit had gone. I told her that I had had a great conversation with my grandmother. My mother frowned and said "I hope you didn't talk about religion with her. She's very religious."
"No", I said, "we didn't go there."

If my grandmother had wanted other people to know, she would have told them. So I kept our conversation private. I feel very privileged to have had this conversation with her, a conversation that she has had with no one else. I will remember it forever.

kippy · 27-02-2012 12:54pm

Amtmann wrote: »

For many of us who grew up Catholic in rural areas, the moment when you realized that you didn't believe in God was a profound one. I was eight, and felt utterly alone, like I was burdened with a terrible secret I could share with no one. It was a great relief to one day confide my lack of belief in a friend and find that he shared my views. We both knew then that we weren't alone, and that there were probably others.

A lot of time has passed since then. Twenty-one years, in fact. But I still remember that day vividly, and the sense of relief that washed over me, knowing that I wasn't an aberration. Last weekend, I went home to visit my family and decided, while there, to drive the few kilometres to my grandmother's house. She is 80 years old next week, and looks wonderful for her age. Her husband died 20 years ago, and she attends mass dutifully. Along with her friends, she decorates the altar in the parish church with flowers each week.

I sat down and we began a conversation. It started off with the usual banalities: How is work? Where do you live now? Who are your housemates? Would you like some apple tart? Then she asked me about my hobbies. I told her that I am thinking of doing a BSc in Astronomy, for reasons of personal fulfillment. Normally when I mention this to people, their eyes glaze over; but to my surprise, my elderly grandmother, who left school when she was 11 and spent her whole life working on a dairy farm, and who had heretofore never mentioned anything scientific to me, quizzed me thoroughly about the planets, their atmospheres, and their moons. She wanted to know what space probes were where, and what they had discovered.

Gradually, the topic veered towards the origins of the universe. As the conversation evolved, I decided to tell her about my recent defection from the church. She listened attentively. Then she said something that shocked me. She said that while receiving ashes last Wednesday, the priest told her that she had come from ashes and would return to ashes; and in that moment, she thought to herself "that is certainly right". My grandmother did not believe in God.

For the next two hours we spoke at length about it. For the longest time, she has had no belief. But she had never told anyone. Ever. Apart from me. The relief that my friend provided to me when I was eight, I was now providing to my grandmother at 80. Of course, she was aware of atheism; but she'd never talked about her own atheism to anyone else, because she did not know how to justify her position, and because she seemed to be in an immediate minority of one. But she enjoys the structure that her church-going activities give her, particularly in the years since her husband's death. Arranging flowers for the altar allows her to meet her friends and gives her something to do.

When I got home to my parents' house, my mother asked how the visit had gone. I told her that I had had a great conversation with my grandmother. My mother frowned and said "I hope you didn't talk about religion with her. She's very religious."
"No", I said, "we didn't go there."

If my grandmother had wanted other people to know, she would have told them. So I kept our conversation private. I feel very privileged to have had this conversation with her, a conversation that she has had with no one else. I will remember it forever.

For a great many people organised religions is what it is to your Grandmother - a social outlet and an aid to forming a sense of belonging and community.
That is one of the very positive aspects of organised religion.
Whether you believe in the religion itself isn't the point for many people on a very selfish level.

seamus · 27-02-2012 12:58pm

That's a really nice post.

While I'm generally wary of bringing up the topic of religion with anyone, and sometimes people will go off on a rant about atheists being "worse than muslims" and "so closed-minded", on the flipside you do also get the occassion where someone will admit one-to-one that they're not as steadfast in their beliefs as they would have everyone else believe.

I've one friend of the family who comes from a strongly religious (Opus Dei) background but is exceptionally open when discussing religion, knowing my lack of belief.
Came as a total shock to me one day when he admitted (after a few beers) that "I just don't know anymore, none of the religion stuff really makes sense". Though subsequently on talking to him, he still maintains his religious facade, I found myself priviledged that he was comfortable admitting his doubts to me, when members of his family would be less accommodating.

For some reason it still seems completely taboo to tell people in Irish society that you don't believe in God or you're having doubts about your belief. Whether it's out of fear of offending someone, or of having to get into "that" conversation, I don't know.

Mr. CooL ICE · 27-02-2012 1:04pm

Great story OP.

Really makes you wonder how many other "closet atheists" are out there. My own parents have a lot of disdain for the RCC, aren't very religious and always turn down invitations for these private stations of the cross meetings, etc, but still go to mass weekly. For some people (moreso older generations), it seems like it could be a case of keeping up appearances among peers.

edit -> OP, just noticed the forums you mod. German, Non-drinkers and Tipperary. Thats a combination that really doesn't make sense!

Sarky · 27-02-2012 1:08pm

My brother recently told me about a time he was drinking with our dad. He admitted that he didn't really know if any of that Catholic stuff was true or not, but just goes to mass anyway. I wouldn't be at all surprised if it was widespread but just not talked about out of fear that tolerant loving christians everywhere would hate and ostracise them.

Morgase · 27-02-2012 1:11pm

That was such a lovely story. It says a lot that your grandmother was comfortable discussing this with you, she must feel great after that chat.

Amtmann · 27-02-2012 1:14pm

Morgase wrote: »

That was such a lovely story. It says a lot that your grandmother was comfortable discussing this with you, she must feel great after that chat.

I met her on Saturday. My mother visited her on Sunday and apparently my grandmother said she was delighted with my visit and spoke about me for a long time. But she didn't mention the substance of our conversation. It's between us

Peregrinus · 27-02-2012 1:41pm

Sarky wrote: »

My brother recently told me about a time he was drinking with our dad. He admitted that he didn't really know if any of that Catholic stuff was true or not, but just goes to mass anyway. I wouldn't be at all surprised if it was widespread but just not talked about out of fear that tolerant loving christians everywhere would hate and ostracise them.

Did your father say that that was his reason for going to mass?

Pwpane · 27-02-2012 3:03pm

When I told a few of my long-standing friends that I don't believe in God, their immediate reaction was to round on me. They stopped soon enough, not wanting to cause a breach of friendship and they sensed the futility of arguing, but I got the distinct impression that they thought less of me because of it.

What seemed to cause the greatest upset was not that I don't believe in God but that I don't believe in an afterlife. "I couldn't accept that there isn't an afterlife! Otherwise what is it all for?"

I've seen a much worse reaction in my extended family against a member who openly calls themselves an atheist. A reaction that is very negative and sustained, like it's a personal attack on them, a bit like she was saying 'I think you're all fools'.

Does anyone else feel that telling people you don't believe in God or religion is a very difficult thing? Why is it reasonably okay to tell them you're a Protestant etc but a dreadful thing to tell them you're an atheist?

Penn · 27-02-2012 3:20pm

Pwpane wrote: »

Does anyone else feel that telling people you don't believe in God or religion is a very difficult thing? Why is it reasonably okay to tell them you're a Protestant etc but a dreadful thing to tell them you're an atheist?

Pwpane wrote: »

What seemed to cause the greatest upset was not that I don't believe in God but that I don't believe in an afterlife. "I couldn't accept that there isn't an afterlife! Otherwise what is it all for?"

Pretty much answered your own question. Religion's main strength (from my point of view) is that it promises eternal life. That after you die, you still live on, and if you've led a good life, you'll be rewarded for it.

Saying you're an atheist is, not always but mostly, saying that you believe that when you die, you die. Nothing happens. You cease to be. It's not something religious people want. They live their life thinking they'll see dead relatives again and be happy forever. You tell them you don't believe in an afterlife, they simply can't accept that might be possible, because to them, they need an afterlife.

As for the OP's story, it's genuinely beautiful, and I'm really glad you got to have that moment and experience. And I think both of you are right, there's no need to share it with other's who'll only rain on your parade.

Sarky · 27-02-2012 3:21pm

Peregrinus wrote: »

Did your father say that that was his reason for going to mass?

No, and I didn't imply it.

Conversations I've since had with my parents on the subject lead me to believe that they mostly do it because it's the Done Thing. They don't seem to know or believe most of the stuff that they're supposed to. They're more concerned by what the neighbours will say if they don't show up.

So, y'know, typical Catholics really.

mikhail · 27-02-2012 4:11pm

Pwpane wrote: »

What seemed to cause the greatest upset was not that I don't believe in God but that I don't believe in an afterlife. "I couldn't accept that there isn't an afterlife! Otherwise what is it all for?"

One of the most touching answers I've ever heard to that question came from Carl Sagan's widow.
http://danielmiessler.com/blog/carl-sagans-wife-talks-about-his-deathbed-conversion

Gregor Samsa · 27-02-2012 6:35pm

Lovely story Amtmann.

My mother told me (and by brother) two weeks before she died that she didn't believe in God or an afterlife, and was perfectly happy to face death, believing to to be final and irreversible. She used to attend Mass every week up until she got too sick, and was quite a devout, involved and observant Catholic in her time. She loved Carl Sagan's quote of us being made from "star stuff", and took comfort in the knowledge that her atoms were going to be recycled by the universe - that "she" was just a small, fleeting assembly of them in a much, much bigger picture.

Just a few weeks ago, a friend told me that his father confided his atheism in him, ending the conversation with "but don't tell your Ma!".

I'd say there's a lot of very private atheists in the older generations out there. It's lovely that your grandmother felt comfortable with sharing her thoughts on the matter with you.

quietriot · 27-02-2012 9:51pm

That sounds like a lovely moment you shared with your grandmother, Amtmann.

[Deleted User] · 27-02-2012 10:06pm

seamus wrote: »

For some reason it still seems completely taboo to tell people in Irish society that you don't believe in God or you're having doubts about your belief......

I've seen that view expressed in this forum often enough to know that it must be important to the people who hold it, but TBH I just don't buy it.

Good story from the OP, by the way. My grandmother, though a believer, was a strong influence on my atheism. She believed in the value of questioning and dissent, and I guess she passed some of that belief on to me.

joseph brand · 27-02-2012 11:09pm

Beautiful story Amtmann.

christians try to portray us as cold and bitter. Fools.

Penn wrote: »

And I think both of you are right, there's no need to share it with other's who'll only rain on your parade.

+1
Two's company.

fisgon · 28-02-2012 12:49am

Pwpane wrote: »

Does anyone else feel that telling people you don't believe in God or religion is a very difficult thing? Why is it reasonably okay to tell them you're a Protestant etc but a dreadful thing to tell them you're an atheist?

I've seen this said before on this thread, but I don't see it around me, maybe it's the heathen company I keep. I would imagine in a large urban centre there would be at least as many non-believers (or at least doubters) as believers, especially if you're talking about people under 50 years of age, and certainly in the circle of people I know unbelief wouldn't be particularly unusual. And where I live is only a mid-sized regional town. Normal family all brought up as Catholics with no member now practicing, or even believing in any way. Sure I know some believers, but not that many. Am I that unusual?

robindch · 28-02-2012 1:24am

Amtmann wrote: »

I feel very privileged to have had this conversation with her, a conversation that she has had with no one else. I will remember it forever.

A beautiful moment and a well-turned vignette -- your gran, I'm sure, would be proud of it.

On a more mundane level, I'm reminded by mikhail's quote of Ann Druyan's on Carl Sagan above, of Bill Bryson's plainer, slightly droll thoughts on the same topic:

Bill Bryson wrote:

To get from protoplasmal primordial atomic globule (as Gilbert and Sullivan put it) to sentient upright modern human has required you to mutate new traits over and over in a precisely timely manner for an exceedingly long while. So at various periods over the last 3.8 billion years you have abhorred oxygen and then doted on it, grown fins and limbs and jaunty sails, laid eggs, flicked the air with a forked tongue, been sleek, been furry, lived underground, lived in trees, been as big as a deer and as small as mouse, and a million things more. The tiniest deviation from any of these evolutionary imperatives and you might now be licking algae from cave walls or lolling walrus-like on some stony shore or disgorging air through a blowhole in the top of your head before diving sixty feet for a mouthful of delicious sandworms.

Not only have you been lucky enough to be attached since time immemorial to a favoured evolutionary line, but you have also been extremely – make that miraculously – fortunate in your personal ancestry. Consider the fact that for 3.8 billion years, a period of time older than the Earth´s mountains and rivers and oceans, every one of your forebears on both sides has been attractive enough to find a mate, healthy enough to reproduce, and sufficiently blessed by fate and circumstances to live long enough to do so.

Not one of your pertinent ancestors was squashed, devoured, drowned, starved, stuck fast, untimely wounded or otherwise deflected from its life’s quest of delivering a tiny charge of genetic material to the right partner at the right moment to perpetuate the only possible sequence of hereditary combinations that could result – eventually, astoundingly, and all too briefly – in you.

I'm sure your gran would appreciate a copy of Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything

weatherfish · 28-02-2012 2:09am

Lovely story OP..makes me wonder if there are many priests who dont believe in a god but are afraid to come out for whatever reason

A conversation I will remember forever

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