I was seven years old when I had my first encounter with theology. My mother made a batch of fudge, placed it in the refrigerator and decreed, “Don’t touch until after supper. And just because I’m not here,” she said, “don’t think you are alone with the fudge. God is watching you.” The word “theology” means God-study. I was studying hard. It did not take long to conclude I was a seven-year-old atheist.