Denis Diderot

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

56 votes

Should I shut up and get along with everyone else? Everyone at the company where I work seems to agree on everything. Meetings are just people nodding. When I raise questions or point out flaws in plans, I'm told I'm "not being a team player" or "bringing negativity." Last month I questioned whether our new product launch was ready—I had data showing quality issues. My boss said I was "creating obstacles." The product launched with exactly the problems I predicted. Nobody acknowledged I was right. I believe challenging ideas makes them stronger. But my "intellectual curiosity" is being framed as insubordination. Should I learn to shut up and go along, or keep pushing even if it damages my career? — The Only One Asking Why in Wichita

75 votes

I was raised Catholic, educated by Jesuits, and until last year I would have said my faith was the foundation of my life. Then my 8-year-old daughter was diagnosed with leukemia. She fought for 14 months. She prayed every night. She died anyway. I can't pray anymore. I can't enter a church without rage building in my chest. Every theodicy I once found persuasive—"God's mysterious ways," "suffering builds character," "she's in a better place"—now sounds like obscene justification. But here's the thing: I miss believing. I miss the community, the ritual, the sense that my life has transcendent meaning. My atheist friends say I'm better off without delusion. My priest says doubt is part of faith's journey. I don't want platitudes. I want to know: Is there an intellectually honest path back to faith after this? Or am I just afraid to face a universe that's genuinely indifferent? — Losing My Faith in Louisville

77 votes