Eventually I became a physician and a scientist. As I passed through medical school and residency, my religious belief faded until it was gone. I’ve encountered wonders in the hospital and laboratory. A child paralyzed by botulism who sat up the morning after receiving an antibody. Complete genomes arrayed on my computer screen like books on a shelf. These achievements were the product of centuries of human thought and preparation. Where some people might see miracles, I see the fruits of reason.

“I don’t feel like I’m alone,” I said to my mom. “I’m surrounded by people I care a lot about.”

Two of those people are my children. After I became a dad, I wrestled with whether I should return to church for their sake, in order to pass along rituals that were formative during my childhood. I knew that my religious belief couldn’t be restored; it was as if I had undergone an irreversible chemical reaction. But I remembered how certain sermons — especially the miracle stories — once made the world seem more vibrant. I wanted my kids to have that experience.

I was looking for a new tradition for my young family, one with ancient origins and dazzling, interconnected forces, but without the supernatural overlay.

My wife, also an atheist, was a willing partner. Together we considered our options.

We established our own Sunday custom that checked all the boxes: science experiments instead of church.

Rather than kneeling in prayer, we might swab a petri dish with environmental samples from our living room floor. The appearance of bacterial and fungal growth over the next week astonishes my kids the way a rod turning into a snake in the Book of Exodus once astonished me. Their communion bread and wine are replaced by baking soda and vinegar, which when combined generate a satisfying volcanic eruption and the opportunity to talk about the ethereal realm of atoms. Sprouts in our windowsill herb garden offer a chance to introduce the concept of DNA. When I tell my son that the granular basil seed holds millions of chromosomes, the look on his face can only be described as revelatory.