I have to admit, I felt a little “eek!” when I read Miss Conduct’s “Get over it.” Partially because I usually find her advice to be excellent and wonderful. But it’s always the “Get over its” that I cringe at. To me it’s the same as saying “Your problems aren’t real, and I don’t acknowledge them.” I realize that it is probably a necessary shorthand in a limited column space, but I feel that the phrase “Get over it” minimizes complex and sometimes difficult-to-control human emotion and experience.

I think what also bothered me was…well…it seemed as though the question itself wasn’t really addressed. There was this whole examination of “well, why would somebody praying for you bother you so much? Huh? I thought you didn’t even *believe* in that stuff?” and completely ignores the fact that the coworker is persisting in a behavior in which they were asked–politely, I presume–to stop. There was nothing in the letter saying that religious people were all stupid or deluded, and the person seemed to bear no real ill-will towards the coworker. It seemed as though Miss Conduct was projecting a lot of issues which weren’t actually brought up–something that she doesn’t usually do.

I’m trying to think of an analogy that would make sense. Let’s say I have a coworker who, nearly every day, gazes into my eyes and tells me, “Wow, you have such gorgeous eyes.” This might make me a bit uncomfortable, for whatever reason–maybe I feel it’s unprofessional, or maybe I get a creepy vibe, or maybe I can’t even fully explain it. I ask him, politely, several times, to stop, and he doesn’t. So I write Miss Conduct, whom I respect and admire, asking if she has any advice for the situation. If Miss Conduct’s answer to me in this situation is the equivalent to the one she gave to the non-theist, I feel it would go like: “Get over it! Why are you so bothered by the fact that he thinks you have pretty eyes? You should take it as a compliment that he takes the time to tell you so. You feminists are always so uptight when it comes to men admiring you physically.”

The fact is, I am not bothered by the mere fact that someone thinks my eyes are pretty, or that someone thinks that praying for me is a way to help me out. In a certain context, both could be flattering. What I would be bothered by is someone–whatever the situation–continuing a behavior which I’ve let them know bothers me. It shouldn’t matter WHY I find the behavior bothersome, the fact is the person is persisting when they KNOW it makes me uncomfortable. I felt that that issue was completely ignored in exchange for blanket assertions about “New Atheists” and questioning of the writer’s beliefs and validity.

And although I cannot condone some of the hateful, ridiculous letters she received (proof that idiots come in all religious–or non-religious–flavors), I can to a certain extent empathize with the anger and frustration that in our society, religion gets a free pass to get away with behaviors which would be unacceptable otherwise (such as the male coworker’s obsession with my eyes). Complaints are dismissed, atheists are marginalized, and we are all told “Why does this even bother you? It’s not like you BELIEVE in it anyways.” It’s a hurtful, offensive, and dismissive answer which ignores the real issues.

BTW, I am a UU in Savannah. I discovered it several months ago and I think it’s a wonderful community to be a part of. Yes, even mean old grumpy atheist that I am.

[Thanks for weighing in, Aggie! I think you raise valid points and make an excellent argument. Come back to PeaceBang any time. - PB]

Jesus can relate to you because he not religious either. If you want your co-worker to stop, just tell him. Jesus love you so much that he never want you to feel uncomfortable.

This is a different situation than your red sox/big mac examples, because those are not emotionally vulnerable times, and the sentiments are not supposed to be an opportunity for the person to demonstrate how pious and in-touch with god they are, but rather to demonstrate how in touch they are with your feelings.

I also really like the description of “legitimate forms of prayer” offered by PeaceBang. And it came right on the heels of the RE Director of our new church explaining to the kids that putting the church garden “to bed” for the winter was a way of “praying with your hands.” My husband, avowed atheist and equally avowed gardener, was pleased that the kids got to hear about “prayer” in a very different context than at their mother’s fundamentalist church. She’s the exception to my benign feelings about people praying for us, because her prayer is done deliberately a) to reassure herself of her superiority to us and b) to demonstrate, under the guise of well-meaning love, to the children that there’s something wrong with us and our beliefs. I can handle prayer as means of self-comfort, but prayer as weapon I won’t ever be able to stomach–and don’t think I should.

I felt quite validated by our District Exec, a fabulous minister herself, when she opined that people who are still angry about and afraid of other people’s terminology are not at a spiritually mature place. I thought this myself, but it seemed self-important to say so.

While I am not a Christian and am more Deist than Theist, I cannot object to having a friend or acquaintance pray on my behalf, employing whatever practice is meaningful to him or her. I’m simply grateful to have someone care enough about my wellbeing to go to the trouble.