Many people have written in to me in the past week asking things such as, "What is it, exactly, that you find endearing about exploring Atheism during Lent?"

Truthfully, no one is asking me anything about what I am reading and why, but if anyone cared much, the questions I begin with are pretty much the kinds of things I might expect to answer. I know this because these are the types of questions I would probably ask were I the me of 22 years ago.

Here's the thing: rather than studying all of the various arguments against the existence of the Creator, which is what most people think of when they encounter the word "Atheism," I am exploring a specific kind of critique of "orthodox" Christianity that comes from three or four of the most influential atheist thinkers of the last century.

I am nowhere near finished with Suspicion & Faith, but I already sense some things about the sort of attitude that Nietzsche, Marx and Freud have at the heart of their critiques of Christianity. I sense disgust with the hubris of people of faith. These rational men seem to be turned off by Christians, who claim on one hand to believe in and defer to an all-powerful, all-knowing God, whose depth and breadth so outstrip that of any human as to make Him incomprehensible to our puny intellects, while on the other hand enjoy nothing better than puffing themselves up with pride in their superior understanding of that same incomprehensible God.

I may be misreading Westphal's words; in fact, I may be placing my own distaste for the smug certainty of some of my fellow Christians into the book I am reading.

But my answer is still true. My own distaste toward systematic theology is likely what drives me to this particular Lenten project.

Consider this little post full disclosure on my part.