I had an uncle who was an atheist in the middle of a deeply Christian evangelical family. In recent years, I’ve harbored regret that I did not take the opportunity to get to know him before he died, but I was a Christian at the time and I believed that he would be a “bad” influence on my thinking. 

I recall a family event where we were all gathered for Thanksgiving, eating turkey and green bean casserole, with football games on a television playing quietly somewhere in the background. At one point in the afternoon, someone decided to play some emotionally-charged Southern Gospel music in the house during the gathering, and I remember sitting there listening to the song, wondering what my uncle was thinking. 

The narrative I was told about my uncle was that he had left the faith and didn’t believe in God anymore, so we were to always pray for him. I was intrigued that someone in our family could actually leave Christianity and still be present for family events. How was he processing all the prayers and the God-talk? Did it make him angry, sad, or indifferent? Did he ever question whether or not he had taken the wrong path?

Sitting near him on that Thanksgiving day, I watched him as the song ended with a typical crescendo and I could tell that my uncle was enjoying it, which confused me. But then he looked over at me and said, “Don’t you get it? The glory is in the song! It’s in the song!“ And then he stood up and walked into the other room, leaving me dumbfounded. 

He and I had never talked about any of his beliefs, but he knew I was a Christian, so it wasn’t an accident that he said what he said in that way. He wanted me to know that the song itself was enough, without the accompanying ideas from our religious persuasions. I didn’t have the wherewithal to follow up probably because it actually shook me. I couldn’t get it out of my head from that day forward and 30+ years later I still remember it like it was yesterday.

I can’t help but think that my uncle planted a seed that day, and a very important one. That seed would later sprout into a recognition and eventually an embrace of the inherent beauty of life itself. Now when I look back on that moment I realize that what he was trying to say to me: You don’t need a fanciful story of an overseeing deity who deals out love and punishment where he sees fit. You can look at the world around you and wonder at the glory that resides there without all of that. You can listen to music and find an even greater sense of awe than what you found in church. It’s magnificent!

I remember experiences in my days as a Christian, sitting in church pews at revival services while a preacher or music leader coaxed us to an emotional crescendo like those Southern Gospel songs do. Now as an agnostic atheist, I recognize the truth of what my uncle told me because I’ve experienced a more profound sense of awe, stripped of the fear and guilt. It’s welled up within me while looking into the eyes of my partner and our kids, while enjoying the sounds of a live concert, or while sitting in front of a starry night sky, observing the natural beauty that exists and will exist long after I’m gone.  I’ve shed the pointless narrative of religion and the wonder remains, because like my uncle said, “The glory is in the song!”