Understandably, atheists don’t go to church. Church communities demand a huge time commitment and heavy emotional labor. They exert subtle and sometimes not-so-subtle pressure to change, to believe, to confess. And, what with the statistical decline nationwide in Christian belief and church attendance, fewer people even notice or care if atheists are absent.

Really though, if you’re an atheist you need church as much as believers do! Behold, all the benefits of churchgoing—singing, making friends, potlucks, social service, moral guidance, coming of age rituals (e.g., confirmation, graduation), social intensification rituals (e.g., births, baptisms, weddings, funerals). You may find a loving, accountability group (e.g., Christian AA) that offers hope instead of despair. You will find a good job-seeker network. A support group for life crises. A place to get married or buried. A place that offers meaning to your life. You might even find free babysitting! You can have all these things without abandoning atheism because so much of church life does not demand any belief in the supernatural

Turns out that churchgoing is good for your health. A 2020 study published in the International Journal of Epidemiology reported that church attenders had a 26% reduced risk of dying and a 34% lower risk of heavy drinking. Church attendance was also associated with less anxiety, depression, hopelessness and loneliness. Church attenders lean toward healthy family and community behaviors. You’ll find good mentors who will hold you accountable and give you honest critique. If you’re older, just getting out of the house and doing something—anything—is good for you. If you’re younger, hey, it might be worth going just to make your parents happy!

And the food! Go to “men’s fellowships” or ladies’ teas. Even some Bible studies are partly an elaborate excuse to eat good food. You run into older “church basement ladies” who are great cooks and you won’t find better potlucks anywhere. You can drink free coffee every Sunday with no hangovers or regrets.

Much church music is great music that people of all faiths or nonfaiths enjoy. Some sermons are masterpieces of homiletics, persuasive argument and great rhetoric—it’s ok to get inspired, even if you don’t buy the teachings. You may satisfy your need for the fine arts even if you don’t share the beliefs—singing, sculptures, paintings, images, creeds, holy books.

You might get free travel. Church people take “mission trips” to U.S. and foreign destinations and the congregation sometimes springs for the cost. There are often no explicit belief requirements or litmus tests for these trips (although there may be some behavioral requirements).

You’ll be shocked by the broad palette of church activities—basketball, book clubs, service groups, breakfast gatherings—none of which demand any religious commitment. And what a great place to meet someone who might become your good friend—or spouse!

You’ll learn about charitable causes to support. You’ll learn how to better deal with needy people, the poor or mentally challenged. You will become part of a fellowship that will support you in your dire need: health, family or marriage breakdown, social conflicts, economic collapse.

A multigenerational congregation will give you a chance to interact with people of different ages. If you pick a multiethnic church, even better. (But beware of over-zealous people who take their faith way too seriously and tend to have more rigid lifestyle expectations.)

You’ll be amazed at how rarely any churchgoer quizzes you on your own beliefs. Shocked at how infrequently anyone buttonholes you to contribute money to the church. Know that many other attenders do not share core church beliefs and may never contribute any money.

However, you must be on guard against the pitfalls. You might feel like a hypocrite—presenting yourself as someone you’re not. But take heart; many churchgoers feel the same way. They’re convinced others are much better Christians than themselves. They keep silent about their doubts and tend to mask their more juicy lifestyle habits. You’re in good company!

Another danger—your atheist friends might feel passed by or ignored, might mock and criticize you, might call you a hypocrite. You need to assure them you’re not a “seeker.”

At church you dare not trumpet your own beliefs nor criticize the beliefs of others (however crazy they might seem to you). You may need to hide your true beliefs, mask some of your more interesting habits. But surprise! I’ve found that people get way more upset over my politics than they ever do over my doctrinal beliefs. So, be careful.

Beware of ramped-up demands—asking your opinion about a Bible passage, inviting you to volunteer on a committee or to participate in a prayer meeting. Even with coffee and donuts it’s tedious to circle for an hour with people who think they’re talking to someone invisible . People might even seek you out for spiritual advice—awkward.

It’s rare, but church leadership might push you to become a member. This might require a litmus test that would demand that you lie about your beliefs and about certain delicious parts of your ungodly lifestyle. But in my experience, they let almost anybody slide through.

But we haven’t mentioned the greatest threat. You might like church. The food, camaraderie, physical and emotional support, entertainment, uplift and inspiration may tempt you to question your most deeply-held non-beliefs. As C.S. Lewis warns, you can’t be too careful. You run into these temptations at every turn.

Be strong. Resist. If not, you, like C.S. Lewis, might get sucked kicking and screaming into that 2,000-year-old fellowship of diverse, broken, hurting, annoying and amazing people who are on the road to a Christ encounter.