Apr 13 2008
Growing up Faithless
Written by: Jacki McMaster
When I was an infant, my parents had me baptized. They didn’t want to, but my Grandmother insisted. They agreed to her wishes, because neither of them was very for or against religion.
My mother was raised Christian, Methodist to be specific. The church never felt like home to her. She always told me, “It’s silly to think that you have to go to a specific place once a week to worship God. And it’s even sillier that they make you pay to do it. God is in everything around you. Appreciating the world is prayer enough.”
My father, on the other hand, was raised Jewish. His father was a non-practicing Christian, but his mother attended synagogue regularly and decided to raise her 3 children accordingly. When my father was 12 years old, he decided that he was not going to have his Bar Mitzvah. He didn’t believe in what he was learning, and didn’t want to put in the time and effort necessary to learn the required tasks. His mother was not happy, but allowed him to make his own decision.

