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1. Control your emotional reaction

If someone you care about has changed their mind about God, you might feel devastated. Maybe you’re terrified of what will happen when they die, or worried about their quality of life on earth. I understand that your concern is sincere. It can be painful.

Everyone handles this kind of grief differently. When I was a Christian, I remember saying bitter and judgmental things to people who didn’t value God like I did, because I felt they were being reckless with their future. I cared about them, so I didn’t want them to go to hell.

In hindsight, I regret projecting my fear of hell onto my friends. My angry words were a coping mechanism for me, and I hoped I could teach some kind of lesson, but now I see that all I did was push people away and erode their trust in my friendship.

If you’re handling your grief by lashing out against the person who lost their faith, that’s the first thing you need to stop. They can’t help you feel better about this one. It will be better if you process these feelings on your own or with someone else you trust.

It’s important to be gentle with people who leave religion because they’re likely dealing with a lot of upheaval already. Throwing more trauma on top of the pile only makes things worse and pushes them away from you.

“What if the non-believer is the one being harsh and starting arguments?” That happens too. I went through a time when I was more likely to lash out against statements of belief. I felt like I’d spent the first 20 years of my life being tricked and lied to, so my bitterness was easily triggered by reminders of that experience. It wasn’t always fair for me to react like that.

Your loved one might need time and space to cool off, or they might want to talk now. In any case, you can only control yourself, so finding your own peace is always a good place to start.

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2. Avoid assumptions and generalizations

Everyone wants to be treated as a unique person with individual thought processes. When we dismiss people with quick assumptions, we damage our relationship with them.

If you’ve engaged with atheists, odds are you’ve heard some of these assumptions before:

If you believe in God then you must not understand science.

Your relationship with Jesus is just an emotional security blanket.

Intelligent people can clearly see that the Bible is mythology.

Aren’t these frustrating to hear? They’re patronizing, right? How could someone claim to know what your relationship with God is all about? If someone had said these things to me when I was a believer, a hundred defenses would have sprung up inside my mind. I wouldn’t have trusted that the other person cared about my thoughts or experiences. It certainly wouldn’t have helped me see things their way.

Similarly, non-believers often feel exasperated when Christians make easy assumptions about their walk away from faith:

You must not understand what the Bible says about God.

You never let Jesus all the way into your heart.

If you learn about this other denomination/theology, it will answer your questions.

When someone says things like this to me, I become reluctant to open up to them. It feels like they prefer to know the version of me that exists in their mind, rather than the complicated person I actually am, so what’s the point? These pieces of rhetoric are nothing new to me — I grew up in the church, after all — so it seems like the only reason someone would say these things is to make themselves feel better.

If you’re not ready to talk to someone about their loss of faith, that’s OK. But when you are ready, make sure you really listen to what they have to say — even if it clashes with your own beliefs. It’s OK if you don’t agree, don’t understand, or don’t feel good about it. They’ll expect that. You can both share how you feel and hear the other person’s heart. You might discover that deep down you both want the best for each other.

The important thing is to show that you respect them for who they are by listening without jumping to conclusions. Ask clarifying questions, and approach the conversation from a place of curiosity rather than correction — you’ll help to establish a new paradigm of trust in your relationship.

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3. Don’t tell them they never believed

Of all the assumptions people make about me, what bothers me the most is when people act convinced that I must have never truly believed in the first place if I don’t believe anymore.

I understand that this teaching is connected to the doctrine that God cannot fail. If you were to accept that a true believer can lose their faith, you might have to reevaluate part of your theology, so it’s easier to insist that ex-Christians missed the point all along — and that’s understandable.

But when Christians tell me I never believed, it pushes me away because it feels like they’re saying I’m either ignorant, dishonest, or incompetent.

The problem is that nobody knows the depths of my heart or how many years I spent striving to connect with God. I ended up becoming disenchanted with faith-based worldviews precisely because I desired a strong theological understanding and a vital relationship with Jesus. The more I investigated, using my best discernment, the less credible it all seemed. This reevaluation was not taken lightly by myself or by most ex-Christians.

When people tell us we never accepted Christ, or the devil led us astray, or we turned our backs on God so we could enjoy sin, it feels like something highly personal is being trivialized and erased. If you want to build a stronger relationship with an ex-Christian, it’s important to make sure they feel seen and heard. Trust that they alone can tell you the truth about their heart.

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4. Reassure them that you love them and you’re not going anywhere

When I sent my 3-page, coming-out-as-atheist email to my parents and wife, I was scared that my parents would react harshly. I worried that my wife might leave me; our shared Christianity was a major reason we got together in the first place.

My parents, though still believers, immediately reassured me that this would not change their love and acceptance of me. My wife turned out to be experiencing the exact same doubts as I was. We supported each other through the process of leaving religion (we later divorced for unrelated reasons).

I count myself as one of the lucky ones: my parents did not value their beliefs more highly than their own son. Sadly, many are not so fortunate. Many have been thrown out on the street, emotionally abused by their spouse, or abandoned by their entire community. In some places, your family might kill you for leaving your religion.

Regardless of who’s right or wrong about the supernatural, isn’t it a shame if our differing beliefs get in the way of us loving each other?

It makes a difference when a believer shows me that even though they don’t agree with me, they still value me as a person and respect my process. I feel closer to people when I trust they won’t try to change my beliefs.

Of course, it goes both ways, and I need to respect the autonomy of believers, as well.