I think my emotional satisfaction would dramatically increase if she were to deconvert.
This is hard for her, too.
Your roles and responsibilities to your wife are entirely different from the responsibility you’ve described to your own conscience to be true and follow the evidence and so on. The strategies we’re discussing on this thread, though interesting and maybe useful, are probably not things you want to use with your wife, who already knows you well and knows the story.
My advice is pretty much the opposite of Desrtopa’s. Don’t talk about your quest any more than necessary. You’re a new person, so start a new courtship, getting to know each other again. Don’t try to change her, but change yourself. Be a good husband.
The strategies we’re discussing on this thread, though interesting and maybe useful, are probably not things you want to use with your wife...
I agree, and tend to abide by that advice. I think when I provide rantish outbursts trying to justify myself, it’s usually because:
The discussion of our kids comes up and she thinks she has more of a right to raise them to believe Catholicism, citing as her primary reason that it’s really important to her. That’s quite challenging and usually leads me to want to stand up for myself regarding the amount of work and research I’ve put into this and how I think that counts as a valid reason that I have an equal say as well.
When I feel proselytized. She brings up leading topics, in my opinion. She came back from a retreat and told the valiant story of a man who doubted but said to himself, “Well, if there’s a heaven, even though I doubt, I’m going to spend my entire life trying to believe anyway so that I can go.” Given the pertinence to my own story and the fact that she shared nothing else about the retreat other than that, my bet was on her trying to defend my stance and why that logic isn’t sound (which belief is the right one to get into heaven?). (She verified later that it was, in fact, a conversion-directed comment.)
When I feel challenged about my process, like if she poo-poo’s what I’ve read, chalks it all up to bias, or something similar.
I guess I could go on a little bit, but just wanted to cite some of the items that have a tendency to draw out the “defensive me.”
Other than that, I can say with near certainty that our best times have always correlated with our longer-ish periods of just not talking about religion/my quest at all.
You’re a new person, so start a new courtship, getting to know each other again.
I had this thought several months ago, actually. I realized that I tend to talk pretty openly about anything and everything—what I read, things I find interesting, work, etc., but that she doesn’t always do this and that I missed “knowing her.”
We also began marriage counseling and I stated as one of my goals at our first session that I think finding new “common ground” will be important. We need something to fill the void left by our shared bond via religion.
Don’t try to change her, but change yourself.
I (perhaps obviously) agree with the second admonition… but could you comment on the first? I am aware of the adage that we can’t change anyone but ourselves… but is does this really imply that we shouldn’t try? Or do you think this is only the case for a sensitive relationship like husband/wife?
I understand that you can lead a horse to water but can’t make it drink; to shove it’s head in the water would be to drown it (or get kicked pretty good). But… if water = rationality-increasing ideas/concepts/arguments, is there anything to be said about making someone well aware of the existence of the water if they get thirsty?
Put another way, that is the point of evangelization or “rationality outreach”?
I don’t really know anything about your situation, your wife, your relationship. So please don’t take anything I say very seriously. Desrtopa may be right, and I certainly didn’t want to imply that you weren’t already a good husband.
I’m really glad to hear you’re in marriage counseling. That will be more helpful than anything I say.
As far as not trying to change her: you’ve got lots of time. If she gets thirsty, she’ll let you know. What I’m advising against is trying to deconvert her so that you feel better, which is what I read (rightly or wrongly) in the line I quoted in the grandparent.
No problem, and I didn’t take your statement as at all implying that I wasn’t a good husband.
I did say:
I think my emotional satisfaction would dramatically increase if she were to deconvert.
That is how I see things, but would not say that this fact means I’m actively pursuing bringing this outcome to pass. I do generally leave all of this alone. It’s come to the surface more lately due to discussions about children, but most of the time we just leave it be and that seems to help us do as you suggested—rebuild around other common interests, activities, and the like.
Also, even though me feeling better would be a byproduct, I only want that to be a byproduct. That is, I’d very much like her to come to her own understanding of what I now see, not that she would deconvert specifically for my feelings.
As far as not trying to change her: you’ve got lots of time.
I’m not advising him (not trying to advise him anyway) to become more confrontational or put more pressure on his wife and friends. But I think he needs social support from people who accept him, and in order to feel accepted, he needs to have people who think, if not that he’s right in not believing, at least that he’s doing something respectable and intellectually honest.
jwhendy knows best what he wants out of a relationship, and if he decides that he’s comfortable sweeping disagreements under the rug and simply not talking about what he believes anymore, then that may be the way for him to be happiest. But it sounds to me like he’s not satisfied with that, and if he wants to be accepted while remaining open and honest, he needs to be able to influence how others think.
But I think he needs social support from people who accept him, and in order to feel accepted, he needs to have people who think, if not that he’s right in not believing, at least that he’s doing something respectable and intellectually honest.
Yup. This is very well said. Even if I’m disagreed with, it would at least be nice for the disagree-ers to look at something like my comments on reading through What’s So Great About Christianity (even though I hate to listen to D’Souza, I gave into a friend’s pleading to read his book, and guess what? I also found out that I hate reading D’Souza) or Dubay’s Faith and Certitude (another acquiesced request) and at least respect the effort I put into those books/write-ups.
Or the fact that I probably spend 30-120min a day (at least) reading/thinking about theological arguments in some way shape or form. I don’t know anyone in my circles who could say that, except maybe the leaders of the community who are always preparing talks and such to give… but those are them thinking about theological thoughts to offer from within—my thoughts are of the evaluation type—“Is it true?”
Again, it’s difficult to have been respected for my intellect and general analytical (cough, anal) nature and then to have everyone complain that this subject is different and that what I’m doing is wrong. Heck, I even have someone (and my wife) say that I should have thought more about the implications of non-belief before even starting down this path. It’s challenging dealing with those views when I can’t see much virtue in literally avoiding research just because you’d rather remain ignorant. It would seem that if you seriously considered research in the first place, you already have questions about the validity of what you think to be true.
But it sounds to me like he’s not satisfied with that, and if he wants to be accepted while remaining open and honest, he needs to be able to influence how others think.
I would agree with this. I find it extremely difficult to imagine just “shutting up” about all of this, especially since shutting up may have implications for my children. While I have no problems with religious education, I do have objections to indoctrination. My wife really, really, really wants to “share the faith” with them, but I have an unbelievably hard time not saying something about the fact that “share the faith” is equivalent to teaching-as-true all of the “fun, fluffy” things about religion while explicitly not covering any of the touchy areas.
I really do “get” these areas and why they would be attractive to be able to share with a child. You get to tell them about just how much Jesus-as-teddy-bear loves them ooooh so much. And that he knows every hair on their head. And that he died just for them and to keep that baaaad satan away. And rejoice in any positive outcome because Jesus has just blessed us soooo much in our lives, and how Jesus lives in your heart and gives you the power of the Holy Spirit to be like him.
To heavily saturate a child in this is, in my opinion, unfair. They can’t even begin to contemplate most of the concepts, for one thing. My daughter, if I recall correctly, once said that Jesus was in mommy’s heart in front of me. How can she possibly know what that means? She’s not old enough to question it, though.
On the other hand, my wife isn’t going to try to explain how two people spawned the world population through incest. Or how god was upset about all these wicked people and went on a one-time global killing spree with more water than is contained on earth… and then vowed that that was the last time he would do it even though surely technology and the number of people in the world mean there is more evil today than there was 6k years ago. This stuff isn’t covered.
Hence it’s tough to keep quiet. The tender morsels that a child would just eat up are what is provided; any tough stuff isn’t. Given that the truth of the “morsels” rest on the accuracy of all those “tough subjects,” I don’t think it’s fair to skip covering the dubious stuff for the sake of making them feel warm with the rest.
It’s also interesting to me to contemplate just how much an effect what a child “learns as truth” during early years has on their ability to re-evaluate down the road. As is sometimes attributed to St. Francis Xavier and is a Jesuit motto, “Give me the child for seven years, and I will give you back the man.”
So… in situations like these, it’s not just about keeping docile between my wife and I; we’re approaching an age (daughter 1 = 2.5yrs, daughter 2 = 7 mos) when we need to make calls on this stuff.
Weird—I just went to look but don’t see it, either. I was going to ask but then looked at comment moderation (which I don’t even have enabled) and saw mention of spam… it was, indeed, in my spam box and is now there again. Thanks for the comment.
This is hard for her, too.
Your roles and responsibilities to your wife are entirely different from the responsibility you’ve described to your own conscience to be true and follow the evidence and so on. The strategies we’re discussing on this thread, though interesting and maybe useful, are probably not things you want to use with your wife, who already knows you well and knows the story.
My advice is pretty much the opposite of Desrtopa’s. Don’t talk about your quest any more than necessary. You’re a new person, so start a new courtship, getting to know each other again. Don’t try to change her, but change yourself. Be a good husband.
I’m well aware. It absolutely is.
I agree, and tend to abide by that advice. I think when I provide rantish outbursts trying to justify myself, it’s usually because:
The discussion of our kids comes up and she thinks she has more of a right to raise them to believe Catholicism, citing as her primary reason that it’s really important to her. That’s quite challenging and usually leads me to want to stand up for myself regarding the amount of work and research I’ve put into this and how I think that counts as a valid reason that I have an equal say as well.
When I feel proselytized. She brings up leading topics, in my opinion. She came back from a retreat and told the valiant story of a man who doubted but said to himself, “Well, if there’s a heaven, even though I doubt, I’m going to spend my entire life trying to believe anyway so that I can go.” Given the pertinence to my own story and the fact that she shared nothing else about the retreat other than that, my bet was on her trying to defend my stance and why that logic isn’t sound (which belief is the right one to get into heaven?). (She verified later that it was, in fact, a conversion-directed comment.)
When I feel challenged about my process, like if she poo-poo’s what I’ve read, chalks it all up to bias, or something similar.
I guess I could go on a little bit, but just wanted to cite some of the items that have a tendency to draw out the “defensive me.”
Other than that, I can say with near certainty that our best times have always correlated with our longer-ish periods of just not talking about religion/my quest at all.
I had this thought several months ago, actually. I realized that I tend to talk pretty openly about anything and everything—what I read, things I find interesting, work, etc., but that she doesn’t always do this and that I missed “knowing her.”
We also began marriage counseling and I stated as one of my goals at our first session that I think finding new “common ground” will be important. We need something to fill the void left by our shared bond via religion.
I (perhaps obviously) agree with the second admonition… but could you comment on the first? I am aware of the adage that we can’t change anyone but ourselves… but is does this really imply that we shouldn’t try? Or do you think this is only the case for a sensitive relationship like husband/wife?
I understand that you can lead a horse to water but can’t make it drink; to shove it’s head in the water would be to drown it (or get kicked pretty good). But… if water = rationality-increasing ideas/concepts/arguments, is there anything to be said about making someone well aware of the existence of the water if they get thirsty?
Put another way, that is the point of evangelization or “rationality outreach”?
I don’t really know anything about your situation, your wife, your relationship. So please don’t take anything I say very seriously. Desrtopa may be right, and I certainly didn’t want to imply that you weren’t already a good husband.
I’m really glad to hear you’re in marriage counseling. That will be more helpful than anything I say.
As far as not trying to change her: you’ve got lots of time. If she gets thirsty, she’ll let you know. What I’m advising against is trying to deconvert her so that you feel better, which is what I read (rightly or wrongly) in the line I quoted in the grandparent.
No problem, and I didn’t take your statement as at all implying that I wasn’t a good husband.
I did say:
That is how I see things, but would not say that this fact means I’m actively pursuing bringing this outcome to pass. I do generally leave all of this alone. It’s come to the surface more lately due to discussions about children, but most of the time we just leave it be and that seems to help us do as you suggested—rebuild around other common interests, activities, and the like.
Also, even though me feeling better would be a byproduct, I only want that to be a byproduct. That is, I’d very much like her to come to her own understanding of what I now see, not that she would deconvert specifically for my feelings.
That’s a good reminder.
Do you think he’s not being a good husband now?
I’m not advising him (not trying to advise him anyway) to become more confrontational or put more pressure on his wife and friends. But I think he needs social support from people who accept him, and in order to feel accepted, he needs to have people who think, if not that he’s right in not believing, at least that he’s doing something respectable and intellectually honest.
jwhendy knows best what he wants out of a relationship, and if he decides that he’s comfortable sweeping disagreements under the rug and simply not talking about what he believes anymore, then that may be the way for him to be happiest. But it sounds to me like he’s not satisfied with that, and if he wants to be accepted while remaining open and honest, he needs to be able to influence how others think.
Yup. This is very well said. Even if I’m disagreed with, it would at least be nice for the disagree-ers to look at something like my comments on reading through What’s So Great About Christianity (even though I hate to listen to D’Souza, I gave into a friend’s pleading to read his book, and guess what? I also found out that I hate reading D’Souza) or Dubay’s Faith and Certitude (another acquiesced request) and at least respect the effort I put into those books/write-ups.
Or the fact that I probably spend 30-120min a day (at least) reading/thinking about theological arguments in some way shape or form. I don’t know anyone in my circles who could say that, except maybe the leaders of the community who are always preparing talks and such to give… but those are them thinking about theological thoughts to offer from within—my thoughts are of the evaluation type—“Is it true?”
Again, it’s difficult to have been respected for my intellect and general analytical (cough, anal) nature and then to have everyone complain that this subject is different and that what I’m doing is wrong. Heck, I even have someone (and my wife) say that I should have thought more about the implications of non-belief before even starting down this path. It’s challenging dealing with those views when I can’t see much virtue in literally avoiding research just because you’d rather remain ignorant. It would seem that if you seriously considered research in the first place, you already have questions about the validity of what you think to be true.
I would agree with this. I find it extremely difficult to imagine just “shutting up” about all of this, especially since shutting up may have implications for my children. While I have no problems with religious education, I do have objections to indoctrination. My wife really, really, really wants to “share the faith” with them, but I have an unbelievably hard time not saying something about the fact that “share the faith” is equivalent to teaching-as-true all of the “fun, fluffy” things about religion while explicitly not covering any of the touchy areas.
I really do “get” these areas and why they would be attractive to be able to share with a child. You get to tell them about just how much Jesus-as-teddy-bear loves them ooooh so much. And that he knows every hair on their head. And that he died just for them and to keep that baaaad satan away. And rejoice in any positive outcome because Jesus has just blessed us soooo much in our lives, and how Jesus lives in your heart and gives you the power of the Holy Spirit to be like him.
To heavily saturate a child in this is, in my opinion, unfair. They can’t even begin to contemplate most of the concepts, for one thing. My daughter, if I recall correctly, once said that Jesus was in mommy’s heart in front of me. How can she possibly know what that means? She’s not old enough to question it, though.
On the other hand, my wife isn’t going to try to explain how two people spawned the world population through incest. Or how god was upset about all these wicked people and went on a one-time global killing spree with more water than is contained on earth… and then vowed that that was the last time he would do it even though surely technology and the number of people in the world mean there is more evil today than there was 6k years ago. This stuff isn’t covered.
Hence it’s tough to keep quiet. The tender morsels that a child would just eat up are what is provided; any tough stuff isn’t. Given that the truth of the “morsels” rest on the accuracy of all those “tough subjects,” I don’t think it’s fair to skip covering the dubious stuff for the sake of making them feel warm with the rest.
It’s also interesting to me to contemplate just how much an effect what a child “learns as truth” during early years has on their ability to re-evaluate down the road. As is sometimes attributed to St. Francis Xavier and is a Jesuit motto, “Give me the child for seven years, and I will give you back the man.”
So… in situations like these, it’s not just about keeping docile between my wife and I; we’re approaching an age (daughter 1 = 2.5yrs, daughter 2 = 7 mos) when we need to make calls on this stuff.
I left a comment on your critique of D’Souza. It’s far enough back that I thought I’d go out of my way to call some attention to it.
Edit: It was there a few minutes ago, but it’s no longer showing up; do only approved comments appear on your blog?
Weird—I just went to look but don’t see it, either. I was going to ask but then looked at comment moderation (which I don’t even have enabled) and saw mention of spam… it was, indeed, in my spam box and is now there again. Thanks for the comment.