Bryce was not yet five when he announced, “I don’t believe in God,” from the backseat of the van on our way to his twice-weekly physical therapy appointment.
“Okay,” I replied, unsure of where this line of thought originated and where it would go next.
So I did what I do when faced with a subject that I’m not sure how to broach. I talked and asked questions. In the 25 minute drive, I differentiated atheism from agnosticism, and each boy firmly planted a foot in each camp, my younger far more certain about the absence of the divine than the older. I mused about uncertainty, and, before long, we arrived at physical therapy and the subject was dropped.
Within the previous year, we’d left an Episcopal church that we’d attended for a few years. This followed a long period of Catholic Church shopping, settling for a few years here and there, long enough to have both boys baptized and for my then-husband to formally become Catholic. Our path into and out of both faiths is a chapter in itself, but suffice it to say that these pronouncements from my baptized progeny occurred after we left Christianity and before we found our Unitarian Universalist community of the past four years.
A year later, we joined a Unitarian Universalist church, a welcoming congregation where spiritual searching is encouraged and differences in ways of being are accepted. Bryce’s religious education classes exposed him to world religions — a chance to hear what others believe. History studies at home allowed us more opportunities to examine religion from many angles. And, over the years, my own beliefs have changed.
Bryce’s have not. He remains a staunch atheist, although over the last year, we’ve had more discussions about what he DOES believe, attempting to guide his definition of who he is to include more of what he does hold true than what he does not. His main argument against a god (or at least against “the guy in the sky pulling the strings,” as he’s come to refer to the divine), is that, well, there is no proof that there is one. Bryce is a literal thinker and rather black and white. There is no more room in his mind for “maybe I can play Minecraft on the computer today” than there is for “maybe there is a God.” Minecraft either can happen or not happen, and knowing is better than not knowing. God, to Bryce, just isn’t. My son doesn’t care for maybe, so that’s not the spot to park his thoughts on the God question.
The word “believe” seems to be problematic for him. Belief isn’t based on facts and natural laws, and it’s not concrete. Instead, Bryce knows or doesn’t know, and he cites facts or sources to back up what he knows. Yes, he’s wrong plenty of time, but, boy will he build an argument, and just that process is enough to wear a listener down and agree. Anything to stop the barrage of possibly relevant information. Belief is more nebulous and personal, and those are fuzzy areas for him. An online piece from Scientific American about Asperger’s and religion notes that some psychologists explain that the lack of “theory of mind” that so many on the spectrum experience makes it hard for those on the autistic spectrum to see the purpose or intent behind what others say and do. This, they theorize, makes it difficult to consider the divine, a purpose behind our lives. Makes sense, since the main role in many faiths of the divine is as doer, the force behind action and the meaning behind life. Take away the ability to understand the intent of others (and Bryce is often wrong when judging intent), and the tendency toward atheism makes sense. For Bryce, and for many atheists (who, in one study, reasoned teleologically about the divine, while those with AS did not), things just happen. No doer, no mystical or spiritual purpose. Just natural laws at work.
For him, his atheism seems to spring from his Asperger’s mind rather than from time spent questioning and thinking over a period of time. While pondering this topic, I wandered onto some forums and blogs by and for those on the spectrum, and atheism and agnosticism ran rampant. (Wrong Planet, Aspies For Freedom, PsychForums, along with a host of blogs.) Logical thought and adherence to natural laws (scientific thought) topped the reasons for unbelief, but concern about the way religion has been used to condemn those with different beliefs from ancient history through the present also was a reason. My highly unscientific review revealed a good deal of thought similar to Bryce’s: there’s no proof. Yes, there are theist Aspies. But it’s interesting to me that so many on the spectrum reject the idea of the divine. And, sure, the child was churchless at a time, being raised by questioning parents, and now attends a Unitarian Universalist church where likely half of the members are atheist and agnostic. But his decision was made well before all that. He made it soon after we attended church regularly, while we said grace at dinner each night (we still do), when his father and I were reading him children’s Bible stories and general books about God and spirituality, when he attended his grandmother’s conversion ceremony to Judaism and then her Bat Mitzvah. He did not adopt his atheism in a spiritual vacuum. He has been encouraged to think freely, although he’s hardly required encouragement to do that. Since free and responsible spiritual searches at 4 and 5 aren’t the norm, I’m drawn back to the understanding of his religious beliefs as part of his hard wiring.
Not to say that he’ll always reject the spiritual or even the divine. He’s young, and has a lifetime before him to consider, explore, accept, reject a whole manner of beliefs and ideas. Now, he’s in a church that encourages that process while stressing respect the worth and dignity of all humans. He has plenty to build upon, spiritually speaking. Or not. And that’s fine, too.
Addendum: In no way do I see atheism as a lesser way of thinking or as a result of “black and white” thinking. In the studies cited in the Scientific American post, atheists without Aspergers reached their atheism via different thought patterns than the Aspie atheists. Different minds following different routes reaching the same conclusion — that’s fascinating to me. I blog about my spiritual seeking at Finding My Ground. Follow me there.
Perhaps it was not your intent, but to me it reads like there needs to be a disorder to explain a person being an atheist. Or, that if a person has Asperger’s and is an atheist that their opinion is less valid because it is just evidence of “black and white” or overly literal thinking. After all, if it is merely a by product of a disorder doesn’t that sort of put it in the same category as pointless repetitive talk about Star Trek (or whatever).
The reality is that many intelligent people are agnostic or atheists. Here’s just one list.
http://brainz.org/50-most-brilliant-atheists-all-time/
Amy, I certainly don’t think being atheist means having a disorder or that one with Asperger’s of any belief system is less valid as a believer or nonbeliever than any other believer or nonbeliever. I never stated atheism is a product of “overly literal thinking”. I did state that those on the spectrum, in my experience directly and from what I’ve read from others, seem to embrace atheism at a greater rate than the general population. This is not a question of the validity of his choice at all, and as a fairly spiritually uncertain person myself (not sure if you followed the link at the bottom of the post to my personal/Unitarian Universalism blog, Finding My Ground), I’m not of the ilk to criticize an atheist or agnostic at all. As I wrote in this post, at least half our church is either agnostic or atheist, and many of my dearest friends are either atheist or agnostic, and many of the rest are uncertain as to what the nature of any force beyond oneself may exist. (Myself included.) No problem there at all.
As for intelligence? There are brilliant folks from all faiths, with and without diagnosable brain differences. I’ll not step into a discussion of whether or not atheists are smarter than theists, as that’s a divisive question with no possible positive outcome for anyone.
Thanks for your voice. Visit me at Finding My Ground. Lots of atheists, agnostics, and free thinkers there, along with theists and the seeking.
Sarah
Sarah,
I didn’t realize this was your blog when I first read this post. I found it very interesting and helpful for me. As you know my son is much younger and more significantly autistic, but I understood what you were trying to say very clearly and led me on a research path that has helped me and my family. I would love to have a discussion with you sometime and learn more about your research that you have done. Thanks for this post!
You are very welcome. I’m looking forward to that discussion. Given the spectrum autism is, revelations about patterns in families often occur after one person is diagnosed. That can be shattering to some, but it can also bring a flood of relief and deeper understanding. Thanks for joining the conversation.
I think it is quite interesting to catch of glimpse of religious education (RE) through your son’s eyes. I think perhaps that the UU RE experience leads to an analytical approach to seeking the divine. This differs from faith-based religious education which assumes the spiritual presence as an essential principle.
I didn’t get the sense from your article that you think atheism is related to being on the spectrum. However, it is interesting to me how differently we all view the possibilities of the universe and the presence of the divine in ourselves and our world at large. For our children to appreciate the ethical and spiritual wisdom from the world’s many religions (including humanism) gives me hope that they will find their own sense of the divine.