By Mario Quadracci
I could tell you how I morphed from a young Catholic boy, sweet and epistemically snug in my first communion cardigan, to a middle-aged skeptic comfortable with existential uncertainty. I could describe how the death of a child rattled my preconceptions about an all-good creator and led me on a spiritual search through theology, philosophy, biology, cosmology, mythology and history, ultimately leading to a rejection of all things supernatural.
I could try to convince you that we reside in a purely naturalistic universe. I could attempt to demonstrate the human authorship of all of history’s gods and the holy books ascribed to them. I could labor to show the historical, scientific and logical fallacies of many of religion’s claims. All of this could be done.
But these aren’t the reasons I abandoned my belief in God. The reason has nothing to do with the substantial evidence for the nonexistence of a deity. They have only solidified my position. The reason I’m an atheist has everything to do with the entire lack of evidence for a god.
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