Why I Stopped Believing In God

Fall '14

 

In today’s world, we are privy to an explosion of scientific knowledge unlike anything that has been seen before. But as the edges of our existence slowly come into focus through this scientific lens, the chaotic force known as entropy seems to tear at the social and moral values that we used to hold so dear. It’s enough to make a guy miss the days when men were men, women were women, and we all had an unshakeable faith in God.

My name is Satan, and I am an atheist.

But it isn’t as simple as that anymore. As science answers more and more of life’s questions, we seem to be moving away from the Holy Trinity as a source of comfort and strength in our lives. Losing one’s faith is difficult for anyone, but when you’re the Prince of Darkness, Lord of the Bottomless Pit, it can be an especially difficult pill to swallow. My name is Satan, and I am an atheist.

About six months ago, I was performing various works of evil, as I usually do. Droughts, famines, persistent coughs and runny noses—I brought back the bubonic plague, for Christ’s sake! I was really on a roll, until a nasty whisper crept into my head: “Why isn’t He stopping you? Where is the ‘God’ I once knew?” Then, a couple days after that, I was farting on people in the subway when someone handed me a pamphlet telling me that God isn’t real. At first I was like “no way,” but later that night I couldn’t fall asleep because I realized the pamphlet was right. How could the Lord in all his goodness permit the atrocities I regularly perform? Like, I created genocide and AIDS while God just sat there. Those things are so bad. Like, if you’re God, how could you not fix those things? It sickens me to even think about.

So I spent days in bed, pondering what a life without faith would even mean. When your entire existence is based around being a foil for an all-powerful and everlasting deity,and suddenly that deity’s existence is called into question, it can just really mess with your head, you know? I used to have Armageddon to look forward to, but I’m starting to lose the will power to plan for it, so I now spend a significant portion of my day lamenting the fact that the Michael Bay movie is the only Armageddon that will ever see the light of day as a fully realized masterpiece.

Recently I’ve taken some time to focus on myself. One thing that’s really helped was signing up for a spin class. While the endorphins will never be able to replace the thrill of believing in our covenant with the one true God, creator of all that is seen and unseen, they do give me the energy to rediscover my interests. I’m starting small. I’ve also gotten back into stealing socks from the dryers at Laundromats, which is nice. Getting back to that kind of fundamental evil has helped me believe that perhaps, someday, I will be able to live happily as an atheist.

My ultimate hope, though, is that at some point— maybe not tomorrow and maybe not the day after, but perhaps some eons down the road (an infinitesimally small portion of my timeless existence) —I will be able to accept that I can per- form works of unspeakable evil because I enjoy them, and not just to serve as a counterpoint to the Lord, our God, who has failed to prove Himself to me.