Last night, I attended an event of a celebratory nature. A man who has been a part of my former Boy Scout troop recently celebrated a major milestone in his lifelong Scouting career, and the boys wanted to throw him a small party to thank him for the guidance and mentorship he has given to them, especially the thirty-five young men he advised on the way to Eagle in the past twelve years (myself included). The process of becoming an Eagle Scout — the “trail” as we affectionately call it — is 90% effort and 10% good record-keeping. It helps to have a trail guide, especially in the last few miles before the final board of review, who can tease out any discrepancies or ambiguities in your Eagle Scout application. For thirty-four other Eagle Scouts and myself, this man was our trail guide.

After the party, I had a chance to chat with him and an old scoutmaster of mine. We traded camping stories and laughs, reminiscing of the good old days. The topic of conversation migrated to my family, two of whom my scoutmaster regularly sees in church. “Though, I haven’t seen you at Mass in some time,” he mentions casually, a verbal poke in the ribs. He knows me all too well.

I would like claim that I am something of an oddity, but I know this to be false. I am an Eagle Scout, and I am an atheist. I am also not alone.

The Scout Oath “On my honor, I will do my best to do my duty to God and my country, to obey the Scout Law, to help other people at all times, and to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight.“

For those who may not understand, this is a controversial position within the Boy Scouts of America. For over a century, Scouting has instilled (or at least intended to instill) positive values in young men, both moral and ethical. Whether or not I agree with all of these values is a discussion for another time, but suffice it to say that I agree more than I disagree, or else I would have left the program. In the process of building character and integrity, the Scouts borrow heavily from religion, especially Christianity. They insist that boys — pardon, men — of good character are obedient, clean, reverent, “morally straight,” and dutiful to God and country. These, among others, are our principles. Can a young man with no religious background, no faith, and the stains of a vulgar, secular lifestyle survive in such a system?

Indeed, he can. I am a living testament to that fact. That is not to say that all do; in the history of Scouting, the prestigious rank of Eagle has only been stripped from twelve individuals, one of whom was an outspoken atheist. One man, out of over two million Eagle Scouts, suffered a grave injustice for his lack of faith, yet the threat feels real enough to force many skeptical and intelligent young men into silence. But how many of his brothers wore religious masks, for fear of being judged for who they are? How many have been turned away from their Eagle boards and their troops, all for a lack of faith?

It is at this point I must make a confession. I wore a mask, and its name was Roman Catholicism. I underwent confirmation, so that I could use it as a shield against any inquiry into my religious upbringing. (Aside: My saint name, which I adopted at confirmation, is Thomas Aquinas, the patron of philosophers, students and scholars, among other things.) My scoutmaster, who knew I had embraced my religious doubts, stood for me as my sponsor. My device worked: at my board of review, question of my religious faith was brought up, and I answered that I was confirmed as a Catholic. The matter was not discussed further.

And so, for the past seven years, I’ve been both an atheist and an Eagle Scout. I am proud to be both, as difficult a position as it might be. Even now, old ideologies resist progressive change within the Boy Scouts (I’m speaking, of course, about the conservative backlash against the lifting of the ban against openly homosexual boys in Scouting). Unfortunately, for those of us without faith, without God, the struggle continues.

Fortunately, we are not without our allies. When my scoutmaster said, “I haven’t seen you at Mass in some time,” I know he meant no insult. He is one of many who live by a simple, but effective, moral code: “Live and Let Live.” He lives by his own virtues, and only expects others to do what they think is right. He is religious and I am not, but we respect each other because we recognize the quality of each other’s character. He has led my troop long enough to know that I will make myself known not for the badges I wear (literal and symbolic), but for my words and actions. The man of the hour, my guide on the trail to Eagle, shared his sentiment. “You’re smart enough to know what you’re doing with your life,” he said. “I’m not worried about you.”

In a way, I count myself fortunate: Fortunate to have understanding adult mentors, fortunate to live in a time when alternative lifestyles are more accepted than they once were. But it is not enough to curl up in the relative comfort of our times, counting imaginary blessings and thanking… Chance? No, we have a much more important responsibility. On camping trips, our rule has always been to leave our campsite in a better state than the one it was in when we arrived. So too must we leave the Boy Scouts of America in a better state than we found it. Of my fellow non-religious Scouts, I ask only this: Work to open your troops to non-religious boys, so that they might grow into non-religious men of character, and let them feel safe in expressing their skepticism. Follow the Scout Oath and Law in ways that do not offend your rational worldview. Uphold virtues that matter to us — reason, respect, compassion, cooperation, and free thinking — to convey a positive aspect to our lack of belief. Help your fellow men in need, not for the sake of karma or rewards in the afterlife, but because it is the right thing to do. Revitalize that often-ignored phrase in the oath that reads, “mentally awake,” and call others to do the same. Set an example for Scouts of faith, so that they may be reminded that moral “straightness” is a measurement of integrity, not of piety.

Someday, I want the Boy Scouts of America to openly accept men of character, regardless of their lack of faith. I know it can be done. I am one of those men. I am mentally awake and morally straight. I am a proud, godless Eagle.