A carnival of un-belief

As we left the convention on day three, after Dawkins’ tribute to evolutionary theory and the improbability of existence, God was in a surly mood. “You’re all just as fundamentalist as any religious fundamentalist”.

“What?”, I exclaimed, “Have you been listening to the speakers? It’s clear that no self-respecting so-called atheist is 100 per cent sure that God doesn’t exist. Most of us are 99 per cent sure. It’s because we value scepticism and evidence, and try to apply it to all things and for all claims, that most of us have turned to atheism in the first place! We’re not sure we’re right, but we’re pretty much sure! How many religious believers can say that?”

While on the attack, I decided to be upfront and confront God directly. He had been wrong about the conference, which had seen atheist scientists, ethicists, authors, politicians, comedians, economists and broadcasters all give atheism a good name. There had hardly been any indulgent back-slapping to be seen at all.

“Not only that, you sexist, racist, fear-mongering, bigoted, stone-age tax cheat, but what’s with the story from the Congo? Nothing justified that, not human freedom, not ‘I-work-in-mysterious-ways’, not anything! Where were you when that went down?”

God looked pensive for a moment, and then disappeared in a puff of irrelevance. He had taken His only way out. As I left the convention, alone, I thought back on the speakers, and felt hopeful and happy that an idea like atheism could unite people in a movement of such human, compassionate and thoughtful ideals.