So, Friday came up with an interesting conversation. An individual finally realized that I was a Pagan, and she approached me over it. While the conversation got a little contentious at times, I was genuinely surprised by how even-keeled it turned out to be.

Her: So, it took me a while, but you’re a Pagan, aren’t you?
Me: Yep. And to be honest, I didn’t hide it. I just don’t wear it on my sleeve, so to speak.
Her: How can you not be a Christian? The Bible states…

And she would recite a bible verse to me. I sat there, and calmly replied to her…

Me: And does this biblical passage work for you? Does it encompass your faith and what it means to you?
Her: Well, yes. But the bible also states….

And it went on and on this way. Her quoting the bible, and me asking if it encompasses her faith and what it means to her. When she finally stopped quoting bible verses, I smiled at her and told her that it was good that her faith in the bible and allegorical and metaphorical stories contained within its pages fueled her faith so well.

Her: Aren’t you mad at me for quoting the bible and trying to convert you?
Me: Not really. You are exploring your faith as it relates to you. And you are so bound up in the happiness of finding something that is critical to you, that you feel a compelling need to share it with me. The only fault in your thinking is believing that what works well for you will likewise work well for me. Or anyone else for that matter. But that’s the exuberance and joy overriding your capacity to realize that sometimes over-sharing that exuberance can be detrimental to the moment that you share with someone else.

See, I don’t fault the exuberance of someone finding a Spiritual Path that works for them trying to show the same thing to others. Its like you have discovered some mystical secret that you want everyone else to share in so they can experience the same joy and freedom that this provides for you. As I have written before, I was that Pagan once. So i understand the perspective quite well. All I really needed to do was to step over to her footprints and see things from her perspective.

She’s young – probably in her later teens or early twenties. I was near that age when I “discovered” Paganism. As if Paganism was some deep, dark buried secret that no one had ever come across before. Let’s use a different phrasing, shall we? I was approximately her age when I stumbled across the Path of Paganism. I remember reading Uncle Bucky’s Big Blue Book, and seeing something that I could relate to, drawn out before me as being real. There were others that believed as I did! And I could help others to see the light! And much like the ill-fated guitar-discovering dreamer in Rush’s magnificent “2112” storyline, I had my hopes and dreams of others seeing the world the same as I did dashed before my eyes.

I have talked a bit about this previously… I worked at the Carswell Air Force Base data center. When I started coming out as a Pagan, I was turned into an instant Pariah. I was moved to a new shift, where all three of my co-workers were evangelical Christians. They were very aware of my beliefs, and they insured that every radio station in the data center was tuned to the local nightly gospel channel. They would call the radio channel from a data center phone and discuss how they had a co-worker who was possessed by the devil and needed healing. No matter where I was in the data center, I heard all of this.

In the beginning I resented them for their actions, and their overt statements. I even refused to join their shift-starting prayer circle when they would blatantly pray for the saving of my soul. It took me another ten years of growing up to realize that my stomping off angrily only played into their hands. They wanted to make life uncomfortable for me. And they did. But only because I let them do it. Then again, I was 22 years old, and was a hot-headed walking temper. It didn’t take much to send my house of cards crashing down. Or to put it into Game of Thrones’ vernacular, it didn’t take much to wake the Dragon.

These days, when I am approached by someone about my faith, I usually take their statements and twist them back to reflect on their own faith. I don’t let them frame my faith in terms of the bible. Instead I quietly and politely ask them if the bible verse reflects their faith. And if they answer yes, I thank them for sharing that with me, and comment on how good that must be for them. Because that’s what that should really reflect. Its their bible, their words, and should reflect the positive in their lives. If its not, then they need to re-examine how Christianity focuses in their lives. And that’s not something I need to help them with.

When our conversation was through, my young inquisitor nodded her head and thanked me for a cordial conversation.

Me: And I should have been hostile to you for what reason?
Her: That’s what my Pastor tells me should happen when I encounter non-Christians. People not of the faith are always angry when they have the truth spoken to them.
Me: Was I angry with you?
Her: No. Not at all.
Me: Perhaps, your pastor is under an assumption of what non-Christians are really like. But I wouldn’t fault that person too much.
Her: Why not?
Me: Because we human beings always assume the worst of people or situations we know little or nothing about. Its a natural defense mechanism.

In the end, our conversation was more like two strangers learning more about one another. Probing to see if there is enough similarities to strike up a stronger friendship between the two of us. And to be frankly honest, conversations like this are far easier to work with, instead of contentious debates and arguments over minutia that matters very little to the basic facts: that we are all human, and we all have a need for companionship regardless of our differences. What a world we might live in if everyone decided to treat everyone else just like themselves.