How Can They Torture You When You're Already Dead?

I'm sure you know this already, but... we are those people. No, not those people. And no, no, definitely not THOSE people. We are homeschoolers.

And by we, I mean, my husband and I are homeschooling our two children. Our son, Max is in first grade, and has been homeschooled since pre-k. Emma's only three, so I guess we're homeschooling pre-k now.

Now, before you jump to any conclusions, and I'm sure you will, we are not THAT kind of homeschooler. Or, maybe we are. Depends on your point of view, I guess. Here's the boilerplate: We are liberal, secular homeschoolers using an eclectic, unschooling approach. We're not homeschooling to shelter our kids, or to teach them our narrow view of the world, or to protect them from the evils of public education and other children. I am rather long-winded about why we homeschool, I've addressed it before and I will again, but not today.

Today I want to talk about hell.

Bear with me. Our family belongs to a local homeschooling group that organizes cooperative classes and field trips. Every Monday, we attend "Co-op" with this group. The group is secular, though not everyone in the group is a secular homeschooler, by any means. But the classes do not have a religious theme or undertone.

Today's co-op was about Thanksgiving. It was the third in a series of Thanksgiving-themed co-ops. The first, which we missed due to illness, was about Pilgrims. The second was about Native American Indians. This one was about the first Thanksgiving, and Thanksgiving traditions and practices.

The leader of today's co-op read a couple of children's books about Pilgrims and the first Thanksgiving. I'm sure that it was difficult for her to find some that were appropriate for our ages (generally 4-6) and not too religious. However, both books talked about God, about giving thanks to God for harvest, freedom to worship, etc. The poem she read was very generic about thanks ("I see praise...") rather than an obvious reference to God.

OK, what's the point of all this, you ask? Well, the references to God made for a very interesting post-co-op discussion with Max. It all started with:

"Mommy, do you believe in God?"

This is a fair question coming from a seven-year-old who has a vocal atheist for a father. But Max knows that his Daddy and I don't have the exact same feelings on the subject. My feelings are pretty complicated on that subject, and more complicated than I was ready to share while driving a minivan in lunch hour traffic. So... I did answer him, honestly but briefly, and told him we could discuss it in more depth later. Then... diversion!

Several minutes later, Max utters this gem:

"I'm not angry about it or anything, but I just don't GET hell! I just don't GET it! Come on, they think you're going to be on fire for the rest of your life after you die just because you don't believe in God?! I don't get it! And how can they torture you if you're already DEAD?!"

"If someone asks me if I believe in God, and I say no, they're going to say I'm going to hell. And I'll say 'No, I'm NOT! Because I don't believe in it!' If I don't believe in it, it isn't going to happen! It's like Daddy says, you have to have proof!"

I pretty much left it at that. He was very confident in his views, and didn't ask for any further input from me. But I am so proud of my rational, skeptic son and I anticipate a lot more of these discussions in the months and years to come. Better do some more soul-searching to be ready. :-)