Izzy and I talk about many things on the way to school in the morning–which friends will be at school that day, who is having a birthday party next, what do I think snack will be? But on one bright Tuesday morning, after several demands to retrieve her sippy cup from the floorboard of the car and a serious conversation about what Dexter, our 10-year-old Australian Sheppard, would say about her if he could talk, I heard a sweet clear voice from the back seat ask, “Mom, do you believe in God?”
I raised my eyes to the rearview mirror. I looked at her inquisitive little face and my stomach became a tangled mess. My husband and I had been mentally preparing for the day when we would have to balance the cornucopia of religious beliefs in our families and offer some wisdom about life, science, God and fantasy without pushing her in one direction or another and without stymieing her spiritual growth.
I am an agnostic, who in true form, completed nine-tenths of a degree in comparative religion and then gave up on a conclusion and a degree. As a product of a liberal religious studies program, I believe that all paths are valid. After all, Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism and all of their many offsets provide comfort and guidance to so many and at their core their teachings are about forgiveness, right-thinking and ending suffering.
My husband is as atheist as they come.
Our parents both define themselves as Christian, but could not be more different. Mine are protestant Christians with nebulous ideas about the bible. They believe in God and Jesus and they prove it by showing up for church every other Christmas or so. They have a comfortable relationship with God. God is there for them when they need him. They, for the most part, follow the rules. And, He looks the other way when they don’t. God does not pass judgment on swearing, alcohol consumption, or stimulating rock and roll music.
My husband’s parents are devoted Southern Baptists. They are careful about the music they listen to and the movies they watch. My father-in-law did not dance with me at our wedding because the music was not “making a joyful sound unto the Lord.” MC Skatt Kat and Paula Abdul were guilty of bestiality in the 1990 music video for “Opposites Attract.” And, if you have heard about Jesus and you are not baptized, you’re going to have a Hell of a time in the afterlife.
They see the world through the eyes of Jesus and they worry about those who don’t.
Joel’s parents (Izzy’s Emma and Pop Pop) often take Izzy to church where she learns things like God made rocks, which drives my atheist-scientifically minded husband crazy and causes him to spend hours online researching the scientific explanations of things so he can explain what “really” makes a rock.
Although we have agreed to stay objective on the topic, I have overheard my husband casually mention to Izzy that God is like monsters and dragons, fun to believe in, but not real in the sense that Jesus is going to show up and rescue you if the house is on fire.
But Santa and the Easter Bunny, well, he has their personal email addresses. I tell Izzy that religion is very personal. Different people believe different things and that what she believes about God is entirely up to her. Some people live their whole lives and never know what they believe about life, death and God.
I hope that providing an open-minded, free-thinking environment will help her, as my religious-studies teachers used to say, “find her path.” And that was the tactic I chose on that bright Tuesday as Izzy looked at me with her hopeful four-year old eyes and her thoughtful inquisitive mind working behind them.
I locked eyes with her through the rear-view mirror. “Do I believe in God? I don’t know,” I said. “I’m still thinking about it.” “Daddy doesn’t believe in God,” she rebutted. “I know,” I said. “Everyone is different.”
“Well, I do,” she said, with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for choosing a good-behavior reward or a cartoon to watch before bed. “Emma told me to.” I smiled. One for Baptists.
