Coming Out

When I decided that I wanted to commit a solid amount of time to studying religion from an outsider's point of view (because you can't really look at the components of different beliefs if you feel the need to make the truth be your truth), I didn't think I needed to tell many people. Why bother them with my beliefs, especially while I'm in an intentional questioning stage? I haven't even landed on anything yet.

But, when you go from helping in Sunday School classes, hosting weekly Bible studies, and being the token good church girl at work to no longer believing in anything, people notice.

It seems like I've been having to explain to people a lot lately where I'm at, and I'm finding their reactions to be diverse and sometimes surprising.

(Whoa- just realized that today is National Coming out Day! I titled the post before I realized this, I swear!)

There's J__, someone I work with who has always jokingly picked on me for being a Christian (he's atheist). In the past, I've taken his comments like a champ, knowing (or hoping) that what I knew he would one day find true and not putting forth much effort to fight back. When he did it a week ago, I couldn't take it and said, "Actually, that no longer applies. I'm kind of going through an agnostic phase." (I think adding the word phase makes it sound less definitive, but it also makes it sound like I'm going to bounce out of it any day now). He looked at me skeptically and that was the end of that. A few days later, he asked me how long I thought I'd be agnostic and I told him as long as it took to figure something out, and that if I didn't think there was enough out there to figure anything out, then it would be a long term thing.

There's S___, my missionary friend. She obviously took what I had to say very seriously. She was surprised, but said without hesitation and with utmost belief, she said she knew that if I kept at the search and didn't do it "halfway," I'd end up back at Jesus. I've always craved that kind of faith. But she's right. A Bible verse that in many ways affirms what I'm doing is Jeremiah 29:13-14:
¹³ You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. ¹⁴ I will be found by you," declares the LORD, "and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you," declares the LORD, "and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile."
If God is true and I really have an open mind, he will not melt under the flame of scrutiny. He will get me out of the exile of doubt and bring me back to him, if he's not made up, if he's actually the Christian God, if he's really the way the Bible says he is.

There's P___, someone else I work with. He says he is spiritual, but not at all religious. When I told him, he said, "Well to be honest I was kind of worried about you. I mean, you're young and hot and you need to live life up!" Ha. Not planning on doing anything terribly pagan quite yet (haha- "yet"), no need to worry. But P___ definitely has a point. If what I've been carrying my cross for for years isn't worth all of this work (if it's not real), then I don't want to waste another minute of my life on it. Life is too short to give yourself to an imaginary cause.

There's J___, someone I used to work with. She believes in a God, but has beef with organized religion (if you're reading, please correct me on any of this). I sent her a link to this blog after going to a church she had a bit of a history with. I met with her yesterday and she said reading this made her sad for me. I think she meant that anytime someone loses their religion, they are kissing a huge part of themselves and their past away. It means reevaluating your politics, your morals (which things stay and which things go?), your reasoning skills, and what others tell you. Hopefully, the things I will let go of in this process (be it faith or doubt) will make my spirit lighter and more free, more sure of what I really believe to be true.

There's J___ (wow, there are a lot of people out there with names that start with J!), a 60-something year old cook at the restaurant I work at with whom I have the funniest, faux-parental relationship. I did not want to tell him! He thinks the world of me and sees no wrong. But someone I work with jokingly said, "You've renounced Jesus [obviously I never put it that way and don't see it that way!] and you're still doing fine? Shouldn't you be struck down by lightening or something?" and J___ overheard. He said, "Wait a minute, what's he talking about?" Then, after a deep sigh and a nervous smile, I told J___ what was going on. He looked worried and just encouraged me to stay true to myself and my ethics.

There's T___, the gay Jew I work with. (Have you gathered that I work with some pretty interesting people?) He's the one who made the lightening joke and outted me in front of my work dad. Over drinks, he told me that this was really surprising him and that it was hard for him to see me as anyone but a very Christian girl. No longer fitting in the box I've made for myself is kind of strange.

What I love the most about being vocal with where I'm at is the spirituality stories that follow. The unlabeled testimonies. Suddenly, they're voicing what they believe and why- telling stories of middle school crises of faith, reliving conversations with clergy, and spreading their gospel. I no longer listen strategically, thinking of ways to combat their qualms with religion or feeling sad when I hear that they've rejected all dogma. I can now just listen and respect what they've come to, especially when it's thought out, when you know they had to wrestle a little to get there. When all of this research and thinking is said and done ("done!" Never will I think ever again...), I think I'll have a pretty good testimony myself.