From Mindspillage

I put some of my clothes on consignment and got a little more than I bargained for... Sure, I saw the Christian artwork on the walls of the shop and heard the Christian radio station in the background, but I don't have a problem with simple displays of faith; I'm not going to avoid a business for that reason. But the owner started chatting with me as she was labeling the clothes—where do you go to school, what are you studying, where are you from—and then she asked me where I went to church.

"I don't really go to church... it's more of a private thing for me." Which manages to be true without getting into the fact that I am a devout agnostic atheist. A non-proselytizing one, especially when I know my audience is devoutly religious. I don't enjoy talking about my beliefs to people who aren't interested in hearing it—at least not in casual conversation with strangers. Unfortunately, she was not so reserved.

Enduring a 15-minute sermon about God's Will and the plan Christ has for our lives and how you have to be careful while you're at college not to let reason get in the way of knowing God, the only reason I didn't argue or cut her short was because I didn't want to be forcibly "saved" right then and there, and I figured that was what would happen should I interrupt. So I nodded and smiled thoughtfully, gave evasive answers when asked to respond, and grew increasingly uncomfortable. I was cornered: there was absolutely no graceful way out, physically or conversationally. And I'm just not that blunt a person. While she was going on about the Word of God, I was debating with myself: should I tell her I don't believe? Am I being honest with myself by standing here silently while the things she's saying are making me cringe? I did tell her the truth at the end of her monologue, if not the whole truth, when she asked me if I believed in what she was saying, that Christ had died for our sins and was there to redeem us: "Well, I think that people can tell you about things they believe and talk about their experiences and have information coming at us from every direction, but we've all got to come across the truth for ourselves." Amen.

She insisted on giving me a book, the writings of John, before I left. I felt bad taking it, knowing I wouldn't read it; I wanted to refuse, but I was afraid she would know that she hadn't gotten through to me and should redouble her efforts. So I accepted it graciously, but I was quite glad to leave.

And I never got a dime for the clothes.