state of beliefI recently had the honor of appearing on State of Belief, a weekly radio program hosted by the great Rev. Welton Gaddy. Having read my last Huffington Post article, he asked be about the Interfaith Youth Core‘s D.C. institutes and the role of the non-religious in interfaith work. Check it out here!

question marksSo you might be wondering: “Where is Chris? He’s been kinda absent from the blog lately…”

Guilty as charged! I’m sorry, but I hope you’ve been enjoying the awesome commentary from guest bloggers. I’ve had a lot going on; here’s a taste of what I’ve been up to:

1. State of Formation

Over the summer, I was hired by the Journal of Inter-Religious Dialogue to be the Managing Director of State of Formation, a new forum for emerging religious and ethical leaders co-sponsored by Hebrew College, Andover Newton, and the Council for a Parliament of the World’s Religions. We’ve been working hard since then to recruit amazing contributors and get the site together — and, last week, it began its rolling launch! Please check it out; I’m incredibly proud of the fantastic content by our contributors already up on the site.

2. Book deal!

This fall, I’ve been working with a publisher on a book proposal, and I was very pleased to learn that my proposal was accepted this week! I officially have a book deal! Every bloggers dream, eh? Haha. It’s been an amazing process so far, and I can’t wait to finish the book and share it with you all. I challenge you to guess what the book will be about… Ha.

3. The Humanist Chaplaincy at Harvard

I’ve also been working with the Humanist Chaplaincy at Harvard, and am so thrilled to announce that I am coming on board this year as the Interfaith and Community Service Fellow! In this position, I will coach and empower Humanist students to initiate and organize community service work in partnership with faith communities at Harvard. Read the announcement on HCH website here.

4. The Common Ground Campaign

I’ve been working hard with some awesome folks on the Common Ground Campaign, a youth-led movement standing up in response to the recent wave of anti-Muslim rhetoric and violence in America. Stay tuned for several announcements about those efforts coming soon!

So that’s all for now! I’ve got more in the works, but I’ll keep it short and sweet for now. I just want to add that, as I announced some of this news over the week on Facebook, I’ve been overwhelmed by the positive response to my news about my book and about HCH. I’m feeling especially grateful right now for all of your support, friends. It’s what got me here.

hpWhew. My first piece for the Huffington Post’s Religion section, “Interfaith Dialogue Must Include Atheists,” came out late Friday night and I have been just overwhelmed with gratitude by its reception. The article has, as of this posting, accumulated a whopping 3,500+ comments and was promoted on Saturday to the front page of the entire Huffington Post website! I’m so grateful that so many people decided that this issue is worth discussing. I’d love to respond to all of the comments on the piece but unfortunately there are just so many that I don’t even know where to begin, and this week is among my busiest yet. But I’ve been encouraged to see as I’ve glanced at the comments that it has spurred so much conversation. Thank you to everyone who read it, commented on it, and shared it with others.

Below is an excerpt of the piece; it can be read in full at the Huffington Post:

In my work as an interfaith activist, I’ve fought to bring an end to religious division. Lately this has increasingly meant speaking out against the rise in anti-Muslim rhetoric and violence sweeping America. As a member of the Common Ground Campaign, I’m actively working to oppose those who wish to disenfranchise the American Muslim community.

Advocating for religious people has often put me at odds with my own community. As an atheist I hear a lot of anti-religious talk from other nonreligious people, and speaking out against it has made me somewhat of an unpopular figure among some atheists. Yet it is precisely because I am an atheist, and not in spite of it, that I am motivated to do interfaith work.

Why? For one, without religious tolerance and pluralism, I wouldn’t be free to call myself an atheist without fear of retribution. Not that long ago, I could not have been a public, vocal atheist at all. Continue reading at the Huffington Post.

yale posterHey all! Sorry for the lack of substantive posts — our ongoing series of guest contributors is still happening, and I’ve been doing some other writing that’s kept me busy. Some of this will see the light of day soon, I promise. In the meantime, I have some exciting information about my speaking and travel this month — in case you wanted to stalk me, I guess!

This Sunday, October 10th, I will be heading to Boston, MA for a few days to hang out with the Humanist Chaplaincy at Harvard, do some work with the Journal of Inter-Religious Dialogue, and have a few other (oh so top secret!) meetings.

Then, this coming Thursday, October 14th, I will be speaking at the invitation of the Secular Student Alliance at Yale and facilitating a conversation around the issue I recently wrote about in The New Humanism: “Should the Nonreligious Join in Interfaith Work?” Please email me at nonprophetstatus [at] gmail [dot] com for more information on this event. I’m honored to help host what I am sure will be an engaging conversation around a difficult issue! [Update: RSVP on Facebook here.]

christian-muslim-titleThe following Friday, October 22nd, I will be in Pittsburgh, PA speaking at the Duquesne University Christian-Muslim Dialogue Symposium about my work with the Journal of Inter-Religious Dialogue and about the role of the nonreligious in interfaith work. You can find more information about the event on their website; it’s a thrill to be invited and I’m excited to both share and learn.

Immediately after that, I will be heading to Washington, D.C. to help facilitate the Interfaith Youth Core‘s Interfaith Leadership Institute in partnership with the White House! Talk about an exciting opportunity. More information on that to come.

White House PictureInterested in having me speak? I love talking to groups and conferences of all sizes and have experience speaking on variety of issues related to religion, atheism, interfaith work, storytelling, new media, blogging, and queer issues. For more on my speaking and travel, and to inquire about having me speak or host a workshop, please check out the Speaking Gigs page.

Want to stay up to date on all of my travel — including for non-work related stuff like weddings? (Man, are fall weddings popular this year or what?!) Follow me on Twitter.

tikkundailyPlease check out my new post over at Tikkun Daily on the new initiative I’m heading up for the Journal of Inter-Religious Dialogue (JIRD), in partnership with the Council for a Parliament of the World’s Religions. The project, called State of Formation, will be a forum for emerging religious and ethical leaders to engage the pressing issues of our time. The deadline for nominations is October 15th, so if you are or know an emerging ethical or religious leader, please don’t hesitate to fill out the nomination form here.

Below is an excerpt of the piece (which was also republished by JIRD’s InterViews here and My Out Spirit here); it can be read in full at Tikkun Daily:

“What qualifies you to do this?” I asked myself as I rode the train home one day to write my first contribution to the Washington Post’s On Faith last year. I listened to the wheels rumble beneath me, looked at those sitting around me, and knew I was headed in a new direction.

I was 22-years-old, an atheist, and a seminary student. Though I don’t believe in God, I decided to go to seminary because I wanted to find a way to bridge the divide between religious and secular communities. The summer after my first year at seminary I began interning at the Interfaith Youth Core, an organization that aims to mobilize a movement of young people positively engaging religious pluralism. The organization’s founder, Eboo Patel, maintained a blog for On Faith and invited me to submit a guest post for it.

At the time, I was beginning to recognize that the organized atheist movement often talked about religion in ways that created more division instead of less. As an atheist, I was frustrated by what I saw as a total lack of interest from my fellow atheists in respectfully engaging religious identities. So I sat down and wrote about it.

As I was working on my essay, I began to browse the rest of the site. On Faith features a panel of contributors that are among the most respected and knowledgeable experts in the fields of religion and ethics. But I didn’t see many blogs on their site by people who weren’t already established as authorities. I wondered if I was actually qualified to write for the website.

After my submission was posted, I started getting some unexpected feedback. “This is exactly what I think, but I didn’t know anyone else agreed with me,” wrote one reader. “Thank you for saying something our community really needs to hear,” wrote another. These readers happened to be young people.

bullhornI hadn’t thought that there were others who felt the same way I did, let alone other young people. I talked to a friend who maintained a blog of his own, and he suggested I create a blog to continue sorting through this issue.

I started NonProphet Status, and suddenly became a part of a larger conversation on the issue of religion and atheism. The blog quickly began to get traction in interfaith and atheist circles, and soon I was being asked to speak at conferences, received invitations to write in other venues, and watched my blog views grow from week to week. I, a young seminary student with a small but growing vision for respectful engagement across lines of secular and religious identity, suddenly had a platform.

Emerging leaders in formation, especially young ones, deserve to have a voice. In a time defined by deep political and religious divisions, we need to hear from those who will shape our ethical future. The current American discourse on religion and ethics is primarily defined by established leaders – ministers, rabbis, academics and journalists. While their perspectives are invaluable, this leaves an entire population of important stakeholders without a platform: the up-and-comers. Continue reading at Tikkun Daily.

Today’s entry in our ongoing series of guest contributors comes from Bryan Brown, a NonProphet Status reader and undergraduate senior at the University of Rochester. Bryan writes about his journey as a secular humanist and how his understanding of religion has changed over time. Without furter ado, take it away Bryan!

dr houseI wasn’t always the sweet and sensitive secular humanist I am today. I used to see the world through very blunt scientific truths. During my personal journey, I have learned how atheism alone does not define a person’s way of viewing — or being a part of — the world in which he or she lives.

A pivotal time in my adolescence was the winter of my sophomore year of high school, during which I went through a bout of depression. In hindsight, it was probably caused in part by lack of sunlight, my first AP class, and raging hormones.

I kept encountering questions of “why” — questions about my source of motivation — and found my lack of faith to be a bump in the road. How could I justify putting so much energy into something that had no concrete, apparent meaning?

And so one cold afternoon in February, I sat down and created a Word document, titling it simply as “The Philosophy.”  My goal was to justify life’s meaning, scientifically and rationally, without the use of religion. What I produced was a six-page document that, at the time, seemed satiating. I supported my arguments with scientific principles (within the limitations of my high school curriculum, of course); in a way you could compare it to the Three Laws found in Asimov’s I, Robot collection. What I really did was use deductive reasoning to rationalize an end to my depression.

At the time I felt more confident than ever about my beliefs.  I hoped that by aligning my actions with this self-made mould of rationality, I could approach any life problem — academics, friendships, girlfriends — without flaw.

Looking back, I now realize what “The Philosophy” really was. Believing that I had a potent understanding of my universe made me feel powerful and in-control. However, in many social situations, my methods proved unsuccessful. It had become my defense mechanism — my excuse to not regard myself as an emotional human. What initially appeared to be the elegant simplicity of “The Philosophy” ultimately proved to be a blunt instrument. It could easily encourage behavior that was insensitive and self-serving, putting my rationalized life goals above all else.

I think I was afraid that relying on emotional responses was as faith-based as relying on a deity, and therefore reckless. I found myself identifying with a certain archetype of personality found in T.V. and literature; I felt that I was channeling Dr. House from House, Bones from Bones, and even Dr. Manhattan from The Watchmen.

My education at the University of Rochester helped balance all of that out, both in and out of the classroom. When I learned about Freud’s concept of id and ego, it helped me reconceptualize my thoughts on prioritizing conscious reasoning over subconscious urges. My study of anthropology taught me about attention to detail, as well as the exercise of treating one’s own culture as an alien one; it was all that talk about being truly “ethnographic.” I even took a religion course, which helped me analyze religions in an anthropological and non-judgmental way.

Meanwhile, I went through a smattering of social and romantic relationships of all shapes and sizes. Declaring love for somebody scared me for some time; it seemed like a leap of blind faith that was only meant for the religious. My “Philosophy” attempted to define love as something that occurred “when a single stimulus or source becomes associated — consciously and subconsciously — with powerful, positive, simultaneous combinations of synergistically acting viscerogenic and psychogenic responses.”

But in the end it was my actual life experiences that reshaped my secular beliefs, and therefore my entire psychological way of being, into a new and different person. And so during my junior year, as I sat in the on-campus Starbucks among all the caffeine addicts and intellectuals, I felt compelled to open a new Word document.

I poured my thoughts onto the page, combining old truths with my new wisdom, which helped make the whole thing more, well, human-friendly. One of the most important epiphanies I have had is that no matter how much we rationalize the workings of the universe, at the end of our pondering we must reintegrate our ideas into our human culture and experience them.

Would a sunset be less beautiful just because you understood the physics behind its colors? I’d venture that for some this makes the sunset even more intriguing! As for emotions, feelings and the subconscious, they have a place, too. Even if you don’t believe in a soul, and you recognize that all of your emotions are just cocktails of electrochemical signals within your body, you can still appreciate their function in your life. I believe Carl Jung tackles this subject nicely in his work The Shadow, in which he says that the parts of our subconscious that we are sometimes ashamed of must be embraced and transcended, rather than defeated.

Finally, I changed the way I look at religion, as well as atheism. Anthropologically, it is easy to agree that religion, for many people, serves several functions that are integral for a social human world. These include community, tradition, guidance, emotional support, motivation, social activities, networking, and meaning. When I think about it this way, it is easy for me to look “ethnographically” at the religious, and see the ways in which the peaceful theists, especially those engaged in interfaith discourse, can get along fine and do plenty of good in the world.

Meanwhile, I realized that what I want to see most from the secular population is proof that we too can provide community, support and values for one other, rather than spend all of our time criticizing the religions of the world. And so it is from my personal journey and these realizations that I am not only a self-declared atheist; I also have a reason to live, love, and be part of something bigger than myself.

bryan brownBryan Brown is an undergraduate senior at the University of Rochester. As a member of the Rochester Early Medical Scholars Program, he will continue on to the U of R School of Medicine next year. Outside of the classroom, Bryan is also a passionate mandolinist, saxophonist, performer, and composer. While he was raised in a Jewish home, Bryan has been a self-declared atheist for years and has more recently taken a greater interest in secular humanist ideals.

I have a new blog up over at the Washington Post’s On Faith blog, The Faith Divide. This is my third piece for the them — the other two can be found here and here. The piece addresses Molly Norris and “Everybody Draw Muhammad Day,” which I have written about several times. [Update: This piece has been refeatured on Tikkun Daily and the Journal of Inter-Religious Dialogue.]

Below is an excerpt; it can be read in full at The Faith Divide:

Last week the atheist blogosphere lit up with reports that Molly Norris, the Seattle cartoonist who inadvertently inspired “Everybody Draw Muhammad Day” (EDMD), had been forced to change her identity and go into hiding due to death threats she received from extremists.

How did these same bloggers who promoted EDMD respond to this news? They expressed sadness and frustration. And who wouldn’t? Poor Norris – imagine having to give up everything you knew because your life was in danger. They are right to condemn those who have targeted her.

However, many also used it as yet another opportunity to take broad swipes at Muslims.

For example, popular atheist writer P.Z. Myers addressed Islam as if it were a single entity, writing: “Come on, Islam. Targeting defenseless cartoonists is your latest adventure in bravery? That’s pathetic. It’s bad enough to be the religion of hate, but to be the religion of cowardice ought to leave you feeling ashamed.”

I’m disappointed at such assessments, and I have a feeling Norris would be too. After EDMD took off, she insisted that she did not wish for it to become a movement. In a post on her now defunct website, Norris asked people to try to find common ground with others instead, adding: “The vitriol this ‘day’ has brought out… is offensive to the Muslims who did nothing to endanger our right to expression in the first place. I apologize to people of Muslim faith and ask that this ‘day’ be called off.” Continue reading at the Faith Divide.

Today’s post in our ongoing series of guest bloggers comes from the amazing Amber Hacker, Network Engagement Coordinator at the Interfaith Youth Core. Below, Amber reflects on a few atheists who inspire her and the kinds of honest and respectful conversations atheists and Christians can have. Take it away, Amber!

crossA few months ago I told my friend Chris Stedman, a former Christian and current atheist, that there’s nothing I’d love to see more than for him to come back to Christ.

This is true, except a part of me would be disappointed if that happened, because Chris is such an important leader in the interfaith youth movement who represents a much needed non-religious voice.

Our conversation is not a typical one between a conservative Christian and an atheist. The reason Chris and I were able to have that difficult conversation is because of the relationship we’ve built with one other through working at the Interfaith Youth Core (IFYC).

A big part of my job at IFYC is answering calls and e-mails from folks interested in getting involved in the interfaith youth movement, but aren’t sure if they have a place. I can’t tell you how often I hear “I’m really inspired by this message, but can I be involved in interfaith work if I am [insert blank here — atheist, agnostic, secular humanist, non-religious, seeking, etc.]?”

My answer? “Yes! You absolutely have a seat at the table, and we need you in this movement.”

Let me tell you about these folks that inspire me on a daily basis – my secular/atheist/agnostic heroes.

greg-epsteinGreg Epstein, Harvard Humanist Chaplain and recent author of the bestseller “Good Without God,” is a good friend to IFYC and an important voice for those that identify as non-religious. I got to know Greg when I organized IFYC’s 2009 conference, Leadership for a Religiously Diverse World. Greg was one of our most popular conference speakers because people in this movement, both religious and non-religious, are hungry for his message — that secular humanism should have with respectful relationship with religion (and I would argue, vice-versa).

ChristinaGreta Christina, author of the widely-read Greta Christina’s Blog. While I don’t know Greta personally, she taught me that we have a lot more in common than what we have different. For example, 95 percent of what makes Greta angry makes me angry too.

Mary Ellen GiessMary Ellen Giess, an incredibly skilled staff member here at the IFYC. Mary Ellen, who is a humanist, helps me better articulate my identity as a Christian. She is such an important ally for the non-religious to this movement.

The Author

And of course, Chris Stedman, who is a dear friend and founder of NonProphet Status, one of the most talented interfaith leaders to come through the IFYC’s programs, and someone who continually inspires me on a daily basis.

Bottom line: I believe the faith divide isn’t between the religious or non-religious. For that matter, it isn’t between Christians and Jews, or Muslims and Hindus. It’s between those who believe in pluralism — that we can live together in equal dignity and mutual loyalty — and those who seek to dominate and divide.

We may not agree about heaven or hell (or for that matter, if there is even an afterlife). I don’t think we should gloss over these differences — Chris and I certainly haven’t. What I hope we can agree on is the importance of being in relationship with one another. And as I say on the phone to potential young non-religious interfaith leaders and what I want to say to you today:

We need you in the interfaith youth movement. Because we certainly have a lot of work to do — addressing poverty, hunger, human trafficking, the environment, you name it — and I think we can do it better together.

Amber HackerAmber Hacker is the Network Engagement Coordinator for the Interfaith Youth Core, where she organizes the organization’s biennial Conference, internship program, and alumni network. In her spare time, she works as a Youth Group Leader at Fourth Presbyterian Church of Chicago. Follow her on Twitter @IFYCAmber.

Today’s guest post comes from Kelsey Sheridan, a student at Northwestern University. Kelsey has done amazing things, working with diverse groups ranging from Christian Ministries, multiple interfaith organizations, College Feminists, and Planned Parenthood. Today, she brings her skills as a bridge builder to an insightful exploration of interfaith from an atheist’s perspective:

open bibleFirst off, let me say that I’m really flattered to have been asked to do a guest post for NonProphet Status. As a way of introduction: I’m an atheist who lives in a campus ministry building and am a reader of NPS — so you can probably gather that I believe in interfaith.

People are always asking me, with varying levels of politeness, what role can atheists play in interfaith work? And why on earth would it interest us in the first place?

The answer to the first question is simple. I have found that atheists play the same role as any other person of any of other faith would in the interfaith process. We help out where needed, observe, learn, and share our opinions where appropriate.

The second question is a little more nuanced. Secularists have a wide spectrum of thoughts and experiences that bring us to the interfaith table. For me interfaith work is attractive mostly in the efficiency with which faith-based initiatives address social needs. Why would any secular person interested in helping others ignore the thorough frameworks already in place simply because they came from religious people? Social problems are looming and I see no reason to avoid a long-established, well-meaning systems.

But on a less practical note, I’m fascinated by the balance between abandoning and understanding my preconceptions. When I’m engaged in interfaith dialogue, I am continually aware of my preconceptions as well as constantly challenging them.

As an example I want to share the biblical passage I read last night. I randomly opened to Isaiah 25 and when I first read it, I have to admit that only the bolded words jumped out at me:

1 O LORD, you are my God;
I will exalt you and praise your name,

for you have done wonderful things,
plans formed of old, faithful and sure.

2 You have made the city a heap of rubble,
the fortified city a ruin,
the foreigners’ stronghold a city no more;
it will never be rebuilt
.

3 Therefore strong peoples will glorify you;
cities of
ruthless nations will fear you.

4 For you have been a refuge for the poor,
a refuge for the needy in their distress,
a shelter from the rainstorm and a shade from the heat.
When the blast of the ruthless was like a winter rainstorm,

5 the noise of the aliens like heat in a dry place,
You subdued the heat with the shade of clouds; The song of the
ruthless was stilled

6 On this mountain the Lord will make for all peoples
a feast of rich food of well-aged wines,
of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear.

7 And he will destroy on this mountain
the shroud that is cast over all peoples,
the sheet that is spread over all nations;

8 he will swallow up death forever.
Then the Lord God will wipe away the tears
from all faces;
and the
disgrace of his people he will take away
from all the earth.
for he LORD has spoken.

9 It will be said on that day,
Lo, this is our God; we have waited for him, so
that he might save us.
This is the Lord for whom we have waited;
let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.

10 For the hand of the Lord will rest on this mountain. The Moabites shall be trodden down in their place as straw is trampled down in a dung-pit.

11 They will spread out their hands in the midst of it,
as a swimmer spreads out their hands to swim.
their pride will be laid low despite the struggle of their hands.

12 The high fortifications of his walls will be brought
down, laid low, cast to the ground, even to the dust
.

When I read this I saw only a harsh, exclusionist view of God… and I totally missed the point of the passage. I’m not trying to gloss over the fact that this passage uses harsh language or that it presents the Israelites’ enemies as toiling in a pile of shit. But what I’m trying to say is that this Old Testament passage also promises a haven for the poor and needy, safety and comfort for “all people.”

My alliance with people of faith comes from my desire to see the poor and needy living in comfort and safety, a desire that this passage articulates. Even if you don’t believe in the Bible’s stories, you can’t deny its power. In the face of problems that are so entrenched, it is comforting to know that something as big as the Bible is on my side. While justice and equality serve as abstract greater goals, I am aware of their near impossibility. In the meantime, I enjoy stepping out of the limitations of my head and into the wider interfaith community to benefit from its enrichment.

Kelsey SheridanKelsey Sheridan is a junior at Northwestern University where she majors in journalism and religious studies. Although originally from South Florida, she’s enjoying living in Chicago and working with the Interfaith Youth Core and University Christian Ministry.

Next up to bat for “Team NonProphet” (c/o Kait Foley) is novelist and writing instructor Bryan Parys. On Monday, Lucy Gubbins addressed terminology among secular folks and how those labeled “accomodationist” are often dismissed in our community; in today’s lyrical guest post, Bryan tackles an even larger issue of language: how terminology around secular identity and interfaith dialogue can sometimes get in the way of engagement. Bryan, you’re up!

HelveticaIn the small, nondenominational Christian school that I attended K-12, I picked up a fear of the word “secular.” The way teachers pronounced it was chilling: that snake-like se that begins it, the sec that’s on its way to sex, and those first two syllables intoned like they should be a swear: Sec-u, u mother-sec-er!

I’ve since gotten over this linguistic phobia, but what continues to bother me is that the traditional “opposite” of secular is sacred. How can I — a guy typing shirtless and wearing his wife’s pink shorts — be seen in such holy terms? Particularly since I don’t see myself as opposite or even opposed to secularism.

To me, these seeming opposites are keeping many of us from doing any good in the world outside our own immediate contexts — the interfaith movement getting stuck on the dialogue and not moving into action. You can’t move forward when you’re standing on a soapbox.

“Seculars” are not, by default not-sacred, nor is one venerated to sainthood if one is not primarily secular. There is a vast, unquenchable landscape between these words, and as humans we are by nature at home in the undefined, even if we’re always trying to find new labels to separate us.

I am no expert in Derridean philosophy, but something I’ve always loved about the theory of deconstruction was the rejection of the idea that language contains within itself a morality of opposites — good and bad, black and white, right and left, night and day, and so on. Language should have “free play” Derrida argued. Once a word is written, it becomes autonomous. It doesn’t matter if an author read Richard Dawkins or C.S. Lewis the morning s/he penned a page — what’s left is the intuitive dialogue of words, a subjective audience, and what action that audience will take as a result. Dialogue, action, rinse, repeat.

In college, a religion professor said of inter-church schisms and arguments: “We should be uniting on the majors, not dividing on the minors.” Not many churches heed this advice, and so since leaving high school, I’ve hardly attended a church service. (In fact, when I started writing this it was noon on a Sunday, and instead of wearing khakis and shaking hands with the pastor as I think about where I’m going to get brunch, I’m sitting here more concerned about being accepted by atheists.

But, unfortunately, this adage doesn’t quite translate to the world of interfaith dialogue. The majors keep us separated, adhering to pre-Derridean thought in a post-Derridean world.

A coffee shop recently opened in the sleepy New Hampshire town I live in. It’s the first one in the area to offer exclusively fair trade coffee, and also happens to partner with local charities. Incidentally, their espresso tastes better than a cowboy boot, something I can’t say about the other two competitors.

A few nights ago, my cousin got very heated when he found out that a local church backs the café. It’s one of those trying-to-be-relevant congregations that meets in a cinema on Sundays and uses Helvetica on their website. As my cousin screamed, they are also “anti-gay, pro-life, and so they’re c–ts, and they’re not getting my money!”

I had known about the church, but hadn’t yet done the research to determine if they fell into the disturbingly fundamental camp. The Helvetica got to me, and so did the notion of ethical caffeine.

It doesn’t stop there. I no longer want to shop at Target/Marshalls anymore. I don’t go to the only teashop in the area that offers pu-erh and lapsang souchong because they openly support the Republican party.

Things like coffee and v-necks are minor things, but they point to major, life-threatening things.

I care more about where atheists are buying their coffee than whether or not they think there is an author to the universe. In such a hurting culture, the existence of a deity should be secondary to fighting for human rights and connecting deeply with our immediate and global urgencies.

So: we are divided on the majors. I get it. But who cares? Why are we still talking about that?

If, according to Derrida, polar opposites are extremist, unrealistic, and harmful, then dividing us into theists and atheists is actually going to stop us from achieving anything good in the world. It’s been made abundantly clear on this blog that there are heinous dissenters in both worlds. If we continue to adhere to these traditional poles, then we will always be too busy wondering if there is room for collaboration, scaling slick walls of god-sized abstractions and slipping back into the ambiguous mud of “our side.”

I’d rather not start an interfaith dialogue about where in theism I fall, because truth be told, I have no idea. Through relationship, though, I’m sure it’ll come up in conversation. Hopefully, it’ll be over a gay-affirming, fairly traded double espresso.

Bryan ParysBryan Parys recently earned his MFA in creative nonfiction and is working on a memoir called, Wake, Sleeper that is about faith, death, and how 7th grade is nothing short of soul-destroying. He currently teaches writing at the University of New Hampshire.

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