An Open Letter to Non-Christians from a Guy Trying to Find His Place in (or out of) the Church
I grew up going to church every Sunday. My family sat in the same pew every week: the third one from the front on the left-hand side of the sanctuary.
All of the regulars at our Baptist church knew it was our pew. It was “ours” every week except the random times when visitors unknowingly plopped themselves into the third row.
Throughout my early years, I learned about how Jesus fed the hungry, loved the unlovable, hung out with lepers, healed the blind, and forgave sinners.
I also learned that he hated gays, Democrats (especially Bill Clinton), Harry Potter, Planned Parenthood, and the ACLU.
I struggled to find those references in my Bible, but God apparently felt that way nonetheless. And I believed it with the blind trust and black-and-white faith of a child. The grownups at church said it was true, so it had to be true.
Seeds that get planted early get planted deep.
It wasn’t until I went to college that I began to question a few things.
I attended a liberal arts school that encouraged open-mindedness, intellectual curiosity, and doubt. The majority of my friends were not Christians (“not saved” in…
