I Am

"How do you know my name?" my professor asked. As a young philosopher, I wanted an impressive answer. What is the evidence? Are there any logical fallacies? Maybe I could say, "I verified your identity with the course catalog." But where did the university get his name? I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and admitted, "Because you told it to me."

"For five months I've perceived you as being arrogant to me. So I've been praying for you every day and trying to start positive conversations with you. But it's been so uncomfortable, I haven't wanted to come to our Bible study anymore. I hope we can work this out and become closer friends." I wish I could be so gracious, but that's how a friend in seminary confronted me when I lived in Boston.

Who am I to question someone’s faith? It’s the kind of accusation that abusive leaders use to destabilize and control. Even entertaining the thought feels judgmental. However, about 65% of Americans call themselves Christians, while cell phone data indicates that only 5% attend church every week. I don't believe church attendance makes someone a Christian. What if millions of self-identified Christians don't know Jesus?

My cross-country teammate leaned back in his chair and said, "I'll believe in God if he reveals himself to me." We were sitting in the Lynx Lair at Rhodes College, and I believed him. It seemed he genuinely wanted to know God. But his comment left me stumped. If God loves us, why is he so hard to find? Why doesn't God want more people to know him?

"You're lying. I don't trust you." My co-worker's accusation felt worse than getting punched in the face. I knew I was telling the truth. But how could I prove it when she'd already decided that I was a liar?