A son’s confession


Dad, can I tell you something really important? Something I should perhaps have told you a long time ago, but have not had the courage to do so?

Of course, son.

But first, will you promise not to be angry?

I won’t be angry.

Dad… I don’t think I’m a Christian anymore.  It’s just that… I don’t believe in God anymore.

What makes you say that, son?

Well, I’ve been doing a lot of studying and thinking for myself, Dad… and… I don’t know.  It’s just that I don’t think there is any evidence to support the claims of the church, much less the existence of an all-loving and omnipotent god.

And… how long have you been a nonbeliever?

About five years, Dad.

Five years?!  And all this time you’ve been going to church every week — you’ve never thought perhaps you should tell us?

I wanted to, Dad.  But I didn’t want to upset you.

Upset me?

Yes.  I didn’t want you or Mum to worry.

Why should we be worried?

Because you’ve always wanted me to be a good Christian.

Is that what you think, son?

Yes.  I suppose so.

Son, all your mother and I ever wanted was for you to be a good person.  You can believe whatever you want, so long as you’ve thought it through properly… we would be happy for you, and would always love you.

Really, Dad?

No. Get the fuck out of the house, you fucking heathen.

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