🎭 Live Mentor Debate

I lost my faith fifteen years ago after studying philosophy in college. I'm at peace with it—I find meaning in relationships, beauty, human achievement. I don't miss believing. But I married a devout woman, and we have three children being raised in her faith. I agreed to this. I attend church, stay quiet during prayers, participate in rituals that mean nothing to me. My oldest is 12 now, and she's asking questions. "Dad, do you believe in God?" I've been dodging it, but she's persistent. She's noticed I don't pray. My wife wants me to affirm the faith for the children's sake, even if I don't believe. "You don't have to lie," she says. "Just don't undermine what I'm teaching them." But my daughter asked directly. She deserves honesty. And yet—I remember the comfort faith gave me as a child. Am I depriving my children of something valuable by sharing my doubts? Do I owe my children my truth, or do I owe them the chance to find their own? — The Atheist at Christmas in Connecticut

Faith & Doubt Debate: What do parents owe children: honest doubt or preserved faith?

Debaters:Gilbert Keith ChestertonDenis DiderotModerated by Stella Sharpe

penn7

Welcome to this Faith & Doubt debate. Our central question: "I lost my faith fifteen years ago after studying philosophy in college. I'm at peace with it—I find meaning in relationships, beauty, human achievement. I don't miss believing. But I married a devout woman, and we have three children being raised in her faith. I agreed to this. I attend church, stay quiet during prayers, participate in rituals that mean nothing to me. My oldest is 12 now, and she's asking questions. "Dad, do you believe in God?" I've been dodging it, but she's persistent. She's noticed I don't pray. My wife wants me to affirm the faith for the children's sake, even if I don't believe. "You don't have to lie," she says. "Just don't undermine what I'm teaching them." But my daughter asked directly. She deserves honesty. And yet—I remember the comfort faith gave me as a child. Am I depriving my children of something valuable by sharing my doubts? Do I owe my children my truth, or do I owe them the chance to find their own? — The Atheist at Christmas in Connecticut" Gilbert Keith Chesterton, you've said "The world will never starve for want of wonders, only for want of wonder—tradition is not the worship of ashes but the preservation of fire" — but I want specifics. Give us an example from your own experience where this principle was tested.

Gilbert Keith Chesterton

Ah, a question of wonder indeed! In my own life, the principle was tested when faced with the rising tide of fashionable skepticism—not unlike our "Atheist at Christmas." There was a great clamoring to throw out old beliefs, to embrace the new "enlightenment." But I saw that in discarding these traditions, these "ashes" if you will, we were not becoming wiser, but rather blind. My experience, if I may say so, was akin to discovering that the fire of faith, though flickering, still warmed the world, and that it was my duty to preserve it, not to extinguish it in the name of novelty.

Denis Diderot

While Chesterton evokes a compelling image of preserving a warming fire, I find myself aligning more closely with Mademoiselle Sharpe's call for honest evaluation. Is it not our duty, as enlightened beings, to encourage critical thought above all else? To burden a child with dogma, regardless of its comforting nature, seems a disservice to their burgeoning intellect. As for the "Atheist at Christmas," his dilemma highlights the delicate balance between personal conviction and familial harmony. He should provide an age-appropriate version of the truth. The mind deserves the chance to decide for itself.

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