God doesn't want Noah to invite my 9 year old son to his birthday party

I stopped believing in God when I was 18. It wasn't a sudden revelation, more a gradual drifting away, although I do remember sitting in the chapel of my public school one day and questioning the authority of the text. It was the Gospel yes, but was it gospel? And as I asked questions and actually read the New Testament it seemed so obvious that it was a bit of a fable that my faith waxed, waned and then slipped away. I didn't feel angry with my parents for taking me along to church, I'd actually quite enjoyed it. Nor was I cross with my boarding school which had made me attend services three times a week for all my teenage years. Most of these people seemed to believe it. It gave them comfort. I felt neither a rebel nor especially cheated when I left it. In fact I never really did leave it. I still went along to the odd church service but if asked my faith I now declared myself an atheist, which is a bit of an ugly word, isn't it. Bald and resonant with negativity.

Later on in life when my father died I found some solace in the fact that I was not religious. I didn't have to rail against the dying of the light or some God in his heaven who had stolen my Dad away. It was just something that had happened. And with the subsequent brickbats that life throws at us as we get older I never felt a need to fall back on faith. I found other things to love and console me. Real things. Like people.

When my first child was born it didn't occur to us to have him baptised. It wasn't a statement. I wasn't being a 'militant atheist' or anything like that. I think we had a conversation along the lines of "if he wants to get baptised later in life let it be his choice" but my mother and probably even certain of my more traditionally minded friends were not impressed. We had one of those 'naming ceremonies' but there wasn't a Celtic drummer in sight. We just got drunk and had a party.

When he was four the question of schools raised its ugly head. I live in inner city London. I filled in the form and put down our choices 1,2,3,4 - which were the nearest primary schools geographically to our house. Choice 1 was a 'normal' primary rated Good by Ofsted. Choice 2 happened to be a C of E school  also rated Good. We got choice 2. I would have preferred option 1 but never mind. One third of all state schools in Britain are Faith Schools and the proportion in primaries is higher in London.

It is a good school. The mix of race, class, education, backgrounds is a complete cross section of our local community and the place is friendly, well ordered and the kids (I have two) are being well educated. Bit too much God, but it's a faith school isn't it - so what would you expect?

My son is a sociable, happy, smart little boy. He is doing well and is both fun and popular. He has a close knit group of friends and one of these - Noah - is probably his best friend of all. It's Noah's birthday on Friday and most of the class are invited. My son isn't. The reason is the same reason my boy was given last year and the year before. Noah's parents are very fervent Christians. As his mother told my wife when they first met "it is important for us that our children's friends are Christians -  are you a Christian?"

So - as Noah explained to my son - it's fine for them to be friends and play at school but he can't be friends outside of school because my 9 year old doesn't go to church.

My boy is upset that he isn't invited to the party. He feels properly hurt. I know this because we had a man to man on the sofa last night. So what do I do? Do I tell him his friend's parents are mad? Do I tell him that it doesn't matter? It does matter. Do I harangue these people in the playground? Do I point out the irony of a faith that purports to be all about love and kindness, encouraging such cruelty and division in children of 9? Or do I just ignore it and tell my son "that's life and put up with it" - yes 'put up with this stupid all enveloping religion that seems to creep by stealth into every corner of our society'. Well I don't want to do that, because as a dumbass liberal I want my kids to make their own decisions about what they believe in and not drum me into them. A naive hope perhaps but it's what I believe and if you disagree with me your kids can't come to my kids' birthday parties - OK?

The problem is of course that his whole learning environment is overwhelmingly Christian. From his Head teacher down. It is the bread and butter of his school life. He - by dint of his parents lack of religiosity is an outsider.

In the last census 59% of the British population described themselves as Christians. I don't believe that statistic, I think they were mostly being polite or unimaginative. I suspect the true figure is much, much lower. Indeed even the church itself admits that less than 15% of the population are regular church goers - and yet this odd state of affairs continues. We put up with it. We allow its adherents to sit in judgement in our Upper Chamber, to run one third of our schools, to take the moral high ground over any number of issues.

Dawkins is often lambasted for being rude or arrogant when he points out the idiocy of faith. Given the way my son feels at the moment I wonder if we atheists aren't being rude enough.