NPR’s Morning Edition had an interesting segment entitled Making Marriage Work When Only One Spouse Believes In God.
In college, I dated a couple of religious girls and it didn’t strike me as a big deal that we had different opinions on the subject of God. I should have had more of a clue when the Pentecostal broke down crying one evening; she cared for me but was afraid because I would be going to hell. (True story: I dealt with this irritation by going home and drinking and playing Mario Brothers; a beer per level. I’m still a little proud of beating level 8 in that condition.) But, I didn’t have much of a clue because: a) I’ve generally occupied a clue-free zone when it comes to the other sex; and b) I drank a lot in undergrad.
Fortunately, I’ve always led sort of a charmed life when it comes to life’s major crossroads; and I fell in love and married my wife who sees eye-to-eye with me on religious matters. (I suppose there are gradations: I’m probably a bit closer to the agnostic/atheist divide than she is.) When we had kids, it became very clear to me that I would have had a very difficult time of it if my spouse had significantly different religious beliefs than me. I remember one incident where I felt my blood boiling when I learned that a preschool teacher had informed my child that the Big Bang theory wasn’t true. I’m not sure how you cope with that sort of chasm when it’s a spouse you’re butting heads with on what to teach the kids.
And, that’s where I felt a little disappointed by the Morning Edition story. They talked to a couple where one was Lutheran and one was atheist. They respected each other’s opinions, but neither was going to embrace the religious beliefs of the other. Nonetheless, they had a sort of “I’m O.K., You’re O.K.” approach to the religious component of their relationship. And that’s laudable. (Some of my best friends are religious!) But they didn’t have kids. I would have liked to learn more about the approach of atheist/believer marriages in how they raise their kids. Probably this wouldn’t be a lot different than marriages where both are believers but from significantly different faiths. I suppose the spouse with the more ardent faith gets to lead the children’s religious upbringing.
Still, I imagine that’s very difficult. My wife and I are simpatico on most of the big issues, and I’m sure that’s made our lives much easier.
Jeff says
While my wife and I are largely in agreement (I’d say she’s on the agnostic line, whereas I’m full blown, out of the closet atheist), the biggest issue we are having is whether to send the kids to religion classes. And the only reason it’s an issue is because we truly wish to avoid the turmoil that would come from the grandparents (hers) if the kids don’t at least make their first communion. It absolutely drives me bonkers, and I’m completely opposed, but thus far I have acquiesced with little more than silent protest and an unwillingness to participate in any way. But as this matter progresses, I can certainly see an endgame where I finally break my silence and end the charade. When that time comes, I’m all but certain that her family will freak out. Were it not for my concern regarding my wife and her relationship with her family, this fool’s errand would already be terminated. So now I’m confronted with knowingly standing by and saying nothing (or at only saying the occasional snide comment that the kids don’t understand) while my kids’ heads are filled with nonsense, or stepping in and causing serious and lasting trauma between my immediate family and my in-laws. I’m trying to avoid being selfish, after all, I went through this mumbo jumbo when I was a kid, and it only took me a couple of decades to figure out that it was bullshit, but I truly feel that I’m also deceiving my children (or at least passively allowing them to be deceived), and frankly, that’s about as low as I think I can go.
Doug says
Not my family, obviously, (and you’d be wise to hesitate before taking a legal/political blogger’s advice on religion and family matters), but I think you need to raise your kids the way you think they ought to be raised.
Honoring a spouse’s firmly held convictions when deciding on child education is something you should do. But I don’t think that obligation carries over to the extended family.
(And I’d say the same if the parents were religious but the grandparents were atheists.)
Jeff says
I think the real conversation will have to be between me and the Mrs. to figure out whether her little sliver of “just kinda maybe” regarding the whole Wizard in the Sky concept is sufficient to justify sending my kids to be taught that the Wizard in the Sky committed an act of human sacrifice using his own son to prove how much he loves all of his children (Us). In my mind, that’s sick, and even if it were true, I wouldn’t be a party to it.
Jason says
Agreed on missing the reporting on kids.
My wife and I see eye to eye on faith as well (both Christians), but while I’m sure we’d still have a good marriage if it was just the two of us & one had a different view, but kids complicate things.
How do you say to your child “Here is how the world works” when you completely disagree on what that is?
It isn’t like a 3-year old can comprehend the idea that mommy thinks that God created everything and daddy thinks God is something made-up for weak-minded people.
Don Sherfick says
I agree that it’s a rare couple indeed whose marriages can “survive” or be any kind of meaningful relationship if they are too far apart in the religious belief/practice spectrum. And when children are part of the equation, it’s one of the few times I tend to agree that the state, through family law decisions by its courts, can validly consideri religious issues in determining the best interests of the child. Not the validity or any one doctrine (or it’s absence) per se, but the fact that such differences exist and are posing problems. Frankly, I’ve always wondered in the political arena how James Carville and Mary Matlin manage to stay together………….but I guess politics can maks strange bedfellows while religion is another situation altogether.
Brian says
Jeff,
What do your kids think about this? What do they believe and what kind of religious practice do they want to participate in? I know that when I was that age, I knew what I believed–or at least what I *didn’t* believe (which was anything regarding the supernatural that came out of the mouth of a nun!). If your kids are old enough to have a first communion, chances are really good that they know what they think about it, and you and your spouse sound like the sort of people to whom your children could express their opinions without fear of retaliation.
Don Sherfick says
Having very diverse religious viewpoints is one thing…..even conveying them to the children. The problem would seem to come in when one or both parents not only believes in this or that sometimes mutually exclusive tenant, but also is an expressive “true believer” that their belief, and their belief alone is true, that opposition is utterly without merit and will doom the holder (other parent) to eternal damnation……..pehaps making Heaven or Hell a custody issue in the afterlife if there is one.
Sheila Kennedy says
There is some merit to teaching children about religion, even if the parents don’t believe. In my case, I wanted my kids to know their history (Jewish) and feel positive about their ethnicity; I was confident that information would help them make good decisions when they were old enough to think independently (and they did). It would have been harder, of course, if my husband hadn’t agreed with me–both on the “merits” of religious belief and on the course of action. My youngest son is following the same course of action with his own children. (One brother is a childless Zen atheist, the other is a believer, but very nonjudgmental about it.)
Doug says
I certainly try to teach my kids about various religious beliefs. I figure the more different beliefs I explain to them, the less it’s like an endorsement of any particular one.
In fact, a lot of my nonbelief can probably be traced to learning about the wide variety of supernatural things in which humans have believed over the millennia. If millions upon millions of people have fervently and incorrectly believed in this, that, or the other thing; what are the odds, really, that any given religion is correct?
Stephen F Smith says
Question: Have you ever met anyone who did not believe exactly what they WANT to believe, regardless of their upbringing and religious indoctrination?
Freedom says
Your question is logically impossible. The mind cannot believe contrary to its wants.
Doug says
I’m not so sure about that. The mind isn’t monolithic. Different parts seem to be at cross-purposes sometimes. For example, as a kid, I was sometimes scared of ghosts even though I wanted to not believe in ghosts and not be scared of them. If I truly didn’t believe, then the fear wouldn’t have been there.
Doug says
That’s a tough one since their wants are often influenced by their early indoctrination.
Kilroy says
Atheist married to a Catholic with three kids. Baptism doesn’t bother me since if i’m right, it means nothing, but if she’s right, well the kids aren’t hurt by it. They will also be attending Catholic school since IPS isn’t a real option. But they will be exposed to my beliefs as well as the religious teachings, and its usually pretty safe bet on which of those wins in the end.
Mary says
A friend had an interesting story about this: Her adult child told her mother and father that she wished they had not taken the attitude of “we believe in nothing in particular but you can make up your own mind when you’re grown up”. She said it would have been easier to decide to reject something (anything) than to have to try to find out on her own what she should be choosing among and wondering what it felt like to have a conviction about something. As for myself, it doesn’t bother me that I vacillate, I think it’s normal, and it keeps me from judging that other people’s beliefs are silly or ridiculous nonsense, because I assume they are vacillating as well.
Doug says
That is interesting. I think it speaks to a child’s need for boundaries; either for observing or for pushing against. Lack of boundaries probably causes more problems than arbitrarily set boundaries.