(November 26, 2014 at 11:51 am)Crossless1 Wrote: When it came to my son, who has a mild case of Asperger's, I decided that he was too literal-minded (especially as a young child) to be left to the devices of some of my fundie in-laws. His mother and I spoke to him early and often about what other people believed -- not just Christians but the basics of some of the other major faiths, at least to the extent that we could speak of these movements given our limited exposure to them. We tried to present these views without caricaturing them, and I often made my son sit down and listen as I read to him from a children's edition of the Bible -- not among his fondest memories, he informs me. I took him to a few church services in different Christian congregations (Catholic, Lutheran, Evangelical) so he could see what he was 'missing' by our not belonging to a church. We were also upfront about our own skepticism of these faiths and provided our reasons as occasion permitted. More importantly, we tried to provide him the tools (logic, understanding the nature of good evidence, etc.) to think about these things for himself. Even as a boy, he had a strong interest in science (biology especially) and history, so as time went on it became more about steering him toward good sources. He's a demon for self-motivated research, so the rest kind of took care of itself. He was a religious skeptic at a young age and remains so today (2nd year college student).
Sounds like we would get along. I am the same and while my dad is atheist (not really like me, you really have to pry that out of him) and my mother is nominally Christian, I was raised living my fundie grandparents till I was 10. I left the faith altogether on my own accord when I was 22. I find the idea of a autistic person not coming to the conclusion same way as me hard to see because my own brain can be a very powerful machine that just sort of drags my conscience for the ride.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
