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What is it like to be an African American who doesn’t praise Jesus
Christ or Allah? Or one who doesn’t ascribe to a denomination of
Christianity, such as Baptist, Methodist or Pentecostal, that’s part of a
historically black church?
A 2009 Pew Research analysis
found that 59 percent of African Americans were members of black
Protestant churches, but there were others — many others — who fell into
the category of “Other.” Five out of the 59 percent were grouped as an
Other Historically Black Protestant. Two out of 15 percent of black
Episcopalian Protestants fell into the category of Other. Then there are
Buddhists, Scientologists and yes, atheists, who fall into their own
realm of Other. They ascribe to a way of life or belief system that is
outside the mainstream of religions often followed by African Americans.
What are the others like? How do they fit into a society that skews
to mainstream Christians, and a culture in which so many black
gatherings start or end with a gospel brunch, prayer breakfast or
Christian church service?
In The Other Believers, we spoke with five African Americans about
their lives outside of mainstream historically black religions. Here is
the story of one of them.
Mark D. Hatcher, 31, is a Ph. D. student in physiology and biophysics at Howard University. He started the group
Secular Students, the first of its kind at any historically black college or university, at Howard in 2011. Hatcher is a consultant with
African Americans for Humanism. This is his story:
I was brought up religious. My father was Baptist; my mom was
Catholic. I was baptized and raised Catholic. I was raised in private
schools. I was raised very Christian. I believed that there was
something up there. We went to church sparingly — my parents, they’d
rather hang out with the kids on Sunday and do other stuff. They weren’t
big church people, but they were religious... I got most of my
[religious] education from school. Most of the Sunday school things that
people get, I got all of that five days a week. I remember back
thinking [on] Jonah and the Whale: “That’s a nice story. How does that
work?” I was always asking questions, and teachers [would say], “Well,
it just is”...
What really clicked for me was when I started learning about — I hate
to say it — evolution and the origin of the cosmos. [It] was, I think,
the last thread holding the whole God thing in place for me. Look
around. Why is there something rather than nothing? With the very
elegant solutions that evolution by natural selection provides, it’s a
very simple, very natural way of getting from point A to point B. Then
we have to think about the origin of the cosmos. We can explain how
there’s zero total energy in the universe and how things can’t have come
from nothing, because nothing really isn’t nothing but a boiling,
bubbling brew of a bunch of stuff. At that point I thought about it and I
said, “You know, if there’s a God up there, then he’s bored. He got
nothing to do.” He’s redundant at best.
I really weighed it upon myself to say, “Well, is it a better
explanation for me to say ‘Well, there’s a God out there, that’s
breaking all sorts of laws of physics and caring about us, or did we
just kind of make him up to explain things we were worried about in our
scientific infancy before we really had the tools to go out and explore
the world around us? Is it just the way we had of coping with our
ignorance?” And that made more sense. That’s how I became an atheist.
People don’t become atheists as much as they just realize that they
are...
I remember telling my mom about it, and sitting her down...I thought I
was going to get hellfire and brimstone rained down upon me...She said
to me, “You know, I’m a believer, but half of that stuff I don’t buy
either.” She said to me that she still believes in God and she still
believes that he touches lives, but she’s like “Preachers, a lot of
preachers don’t know what they’re talking about. I don’t really do the
heaven or hell thing,” and I was so surprised...But now looking back on
it, the fact that she’s so inquisitive and she always taught my brother
and I to be inquisitive, it shouldn’t have been that surprising as it
was. But she said she felt a lot of pressure from her mother to raise us
as religious as she did, which is not surprising at all, either. She’s
been extremely supportive and I can’t thank her enough for it.
A lot of people don’t really understand that when you say you’re an
Atheist, you’re not saying ‘I’m telling you that there’s no God up
there.’ Atheist means ‘I don’t have a belief in it.’ When people ask me
what I am and I’m trying to be legally correct about it, I say I’m an
agnostic atheist. And I don’t say agnostic because it’s a
50/50...agnostic means “We can’t know for sure.” There are a lot of
agnostic atheists out there — they are people that believe in God, but
they’re not positive. I’m an agnostic atheist. I don’t have faith. I
don’t have a belief in a God, but I don’t know for sure...I never really
stopped going to church, because I never really started, but to this
day if somebody invites me to go, I’ll go. I love the songs. I love the
music, I love the community, I love the fact that people can come
together and feel good and try to spread good messages. Sometimes those
messages get muddled by bronze-age philosophy, but people coming
together and singing and having a good time...it’s great. That’s a
wonderful experience. That’s something that Atheists don’t do enough of.
What we need in our community is someplace where we can go and just
hang out...
[One day] I’m walking across campus, and normally don’t have it on,
but I had my Atheist t-shirt on. Somebody came up to me and said “Oh my
God, I thought I was crazy, I thought I was the only one. Thank you for
letting me know I’m not insane.” That’s understandable in our community.
You gotta love Jesus. If you don’t love Jesus, you gotta love somebody.
My mom’s first question to me was ‘What, so you don’t believe in
anything?!” And that’s hard in the black community. You gotta believe in
something in order to be a complete person. This person coming up to
me, saying that they thought they were insane because of the type of
pressure that was on them to believe in something that they just simply
couldn’t, I was like, “You know what? We need a community here”...
The reaction on campus was generally positive. We haven’t gotten any
overt horrible things. I’ve had somebody run up and throw holy water on
me once, but that was the worst that has ever happened. For the most
part, we haven’t had any problems outwardly. I’ve heard rumblings...and
whenever we put up our fliers, a lot of times they get vandalized or
ripped down. That’s unfortunately an expected response, but we haven’t
had any problems from the administration outwardly. We haven’t had any
people coming up and yelling “You’re going to hell” — yet.
I have at least two long-term relationships terminated simply because
of [my beliefs]...I almost feel a responsibility, when I’m interested
in someone, to just put it out there. I feel like that’s the responsible
thing to do because I feel like I’d be leading somebody on otherwise,
and that’s not true, but
the amount of religiosity in black women
— I kind of have to expect that somebody’s not gonna be interested
which is more often than not the case...I have to be intellectually
honest in everything that I’m thinking and everything I’m believing, and
that helps being a scientist, because you know as a scientist that
there could be something out there that you couldn’t even have
fathomed...I expect to be wrong in a lot of things that I do because I
can’t have all of the information in everything, so if I’m wrong about
something, I rejoice. I’m happy to be wrong! I’ve learned something new.
If I’m wrong about it, Yay! I want to know the truth, but insofar as
the evidence available to me, I don’t see a reason to believe. But I
could be wrong.