In my case it's possibly because my maternal grandparents were from Seville and Granada, so I have a repressed Moorish heritage or some such making me rather anti-Christian. And on my father's side of the family most were refugees from the Rheinhessen to America during the great Auswanderung of the late 17th and early 18th centuries, which was the direct result of the tragedy and insanity of the religious 30 Years' War. Or perhaps it's because some on the paternal side of the family just happened to come from Carcassonne and Toulouse, which maybe accounts for a certain pent-up repressed Cathar seeking revenge on the woman-killing, child-killing rapists and pillagers of the Albigensian Crusade who called themselves Christians.

Then again, maybe I just have trouble understanding why people choose to believe in superstitions, constructed religions and other nonsense and have such a seemingly deep-seated need to be mothered by a nebulous, unprovable Something-Greater-And-More-Important-Than-Them to give meaning to their lives.