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Coming Out of the Religious Closet

my confirmation (and 80's perm)

In elementary school it was cool to be a hand-raiser, to win the teacher’s favor, but students flip flop during puberty more than politicians. Many reject education entirely as part of the full package of teen rebellion. Many others–including my pubescent self–feel compelled to hide ambition or intelligence, putting in just enough effort to stay off the parental radar but not enough that classmates could claim we were trying. At least until the day we flip again–perhaps too late–and chase success through the maze of mediocrity.

Recently my pastor noted how small the percentage is of practicing Christians my age (too old for the disco club and too young for the booster club). The statistics reinforced why I’ve felt compelled to keep my faith on the down low—though it did not justify my cowardliness.

Religion has a bad rap from black sheep priests, memories of wrist-rapping nuns, cults and extremists, televised soapbox preachers, and the Emily Post assumption that discussing anything controversial must lead to unrest. Singular examples of overbearing crusaders or naïve Ned Flanders-style do-gooders have been assumed to represent anyone with faith. Plus religion is scorned by pseudo-intellectuals who cite Marx’s “religion is the opiate of the masses,” short-sightedly equating faith with an addictive and blind allegiance which soothingly dulls the senses.  (Ironically, what underlies the widespread parroting of this quote is the arrogant implication that the quoter is more discerning than all the other parrots). These “free-thinkers” fail to recognize that society’s merely traded worshiping God for worshiping pop culture. But the final nail in the Church’s coffin is religion’s unpopular tendency to say that you are not in fact free to do whatever you want, whenever you want.

I’ve repeated my mistakes rather than learned from them: as with ambition, I allowed religion’s uncoolness to force my faith into hiding. Well, it is time to come out of the religious closet even though society makes it hard to speak up for God. It’s one thing to speak up among other Christians, but what about among the masses? I’d better pray for help.

Before you delete your bookmark, I should note that this blog, essentially a forum on writing, reading, and publishing, is not about to be overtaken with doctrine. I don’t wish to pretend that my faith or Biblical knowledge is any stronger than it is. I merely aim to stop hiding my religious beliefs from where they naturally mingle with the rest of my life. The entirety of my existence on earth probably should be infused with the more important spiritual mission—but it isn’t. I go to work in a cubicle. I flip off bad drivers. I watch tv, browse the internet, and workout to some very profane music cause it keeps me in the red zone. Yet when relevant, why should I hide my beliefs from the cultural conversation? To be cool? (No doubt my hobbies, near poverty, irrepressible shyness, and Midwestern roots make me hopelessly uncool anyway).

How much of religion’s stigma could be reversed if its everyday believers were more open and willing to acknowledge their beliefs? When you bash religion you are unknowingly bashing your neighbors, coworkers, and friends. If a melodramatic prime-time soap opera can bring acceptance for real-life glee club singers, there’s hope that Christians too can admit without social sanction that they know where they’ll be going when it all finally ends.

Thank you to the some of the brave people who inspired this and already help make religion look cool: Tim Gauerke, Alisa Hope Wagner, the members of Koine and Crossroads Christian Church of Chicago.
On Books, Views

Read or Rot

Franklin's Calendar
Calendar of Ben Franklin

Ask a caveman why he doesn’t spend more time reading, and the answer may be that every minute of the day is spent foraging for food, running from dinosaurs, or generally trying to ensure the moment-to-moment survival of the human race. Today even the busiest humans live a bit more comfortably with more time for leisure and more choices of how to spend that time.

How many times a day do you choose popular culture over literary culture? I frequently tell myself “read or rot” because I too struggle to find the right balance. We need to be reminded of the consequences of choosing not to read or improve our minds and of the truth that this literary drought is—to a degree—our choice.

Even “The First American,” Ben Franklin, found it necessary to schedule time to read. Try measuring your activities in small increments of time on a typical day (I found that using an oven timer to schedule tasks helps me gain focus). The typical American rots in front of the tv thirty-five hours a week according to last year’s Philadelphia Inquirer report on an A.C. Nielsen survey–that’s nearly a full-time job. By choosing reading over rotting just two hours a week, the average reader could finish seventeen books a year. Here are some suggestions related to balancing your time to get you started: