lying through his teeth.

For the past few months, I've had a pair of men knock on my door wishing to speak with me about Jesus Christ. They're nice people.

The Mormon twins, I consider them.

They're young, maybe 19 or 20. Short blonde hair, cut by  a woman in a kitchen. They were wearing white dress t-shirts and ties that I'm convinced are clip-ons. I assume their backpacks are just filled with more books and pamphlets. Maybe sandwiches for lunch.

So today they knocked on my door again, Book of Mormon in hand. They caught me off guard. The last time they were standing at my door I convinced them I was on my way out, apologized, then un-paused my video game. But this time I was eating lunch watching TV, and had no excuse readily available. I was caught with my pants down. Not literally, but that would been a decent way out of that.

So they invited themselves in the only way they know how; by kindly forcing you to.

They spoke to me about Jesus Christ, and the impact he had on their lives. They brought up their church, and the Book of Mormon.

Then came the inevitable.

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"So are you very religious at all?"

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Now my momma taught me well. I have a rehearsed answer I've used my whole life when asked this question. I guarantee every atheist has an answer they use whenever this happens. A smoke bomb, readily stored in the corner of their brain to be used at a moment's notice.

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"....yes. I am."

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I've lied to a lot of people, for a lot of reasons. Everybody has. Lying to them was something I felt necessary if I didn't want to devote the rest of my afternoon to have a conversation that would go nowhere. Plus how awkward is that? My atheism, to them, is a challenge. If not, it better be, for the sake of their jobs. They want to convince you to follow their path of righteousness, right? Finding an atheist is the ultimate challenge for them. Stepping up to the plate for what they'd believe to be God's ultimate test of their ability to convert the "misdirected". Leaving me alone could be easily understood as "giving up", and you don't want to anger the man upstairs, right?

So I lied. Made up a whole story about going to church my whole life. Don't worry, I made it believable. Told them I went all the time as a kid, but sort of stopped going in college. Didn't have time. But hey it's still important. I guess my parents were the religious ones. I mean, it's supposed to be but... you know... homework and all... and hey you know I try my best.

They smiled and nodded. Gave me a Book of Mormon. Invited me to their church. Asked for some water. Reminded me how life-changing Mormonism is. Left.

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"Could I trouble you for a glass of water? It's a scorcher out here."

-Mad Men, Indian Summer

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I think we have a knee-jerk reaction to associate lying with "being bad".

I've never thought lying in and of itself is wrong. I believe lying is wrong when used for personal gain, or for the degradation of another. But lying is the means to an ethical choice, and not the ends. Lying to benefit the greater good is possible. Lying for the sake of a clearly better outcome is possible. I lied to avoid a situation I believed would have the possibility of negative consequences for one or both of the parties. I lied to enter a situation I believe would end with a more positive environment. The opportunity for us all to move on with our lives, worry-free. Am I allowed to make this choice?

Growing up my family was not religious. My brothers and I had a perspective of religion very few have: from the outside. Without the conditioning church executes so effectively on children, my brothers and I saw religion for what it was, and there was no changing that. They're stories. Stories that make us feel better. Tell us that whatever we're doing is okay.

So... was that fair?

Lets look at what's fair.

Is it fair that I feel the need to lie to the face of strangers in my apartment?

Is it fair to them that I'm dishonest?

Is it fair that I'm bothered in the middle of the afternoon and asked to have a philosophical conversation?

Lets I spent the rest of my life going door to door asking people if they enjoy eating carrot cake. Ask them if they eat it. Tell them how much my life has changed since eating carrot cake. Give them a recipe I believe yields the perfect carrot cake.

So what's the discrepancy between these two scenarios? That carrot cake is trivial? That someone's opinion on cake has no lasting consequence on their live? After all, at the end of the day, who cares about carrot cake?

This is something many religious people don't understand about the atheist perspective.

Religion is carrot cake.

-Ryan