Jared Witt l February 9, 2017
I recently went to see a counselor—surprising, I know, given my cheerful disposition—and there was a question on the patient information sheet asking about my religion.
I don’t purposely try to be a smartass with stuff like that. Well, ok, I once told a dentist that maybe my molar no. 2 was sensitive to hot or cold because of his relationship with his father. So let us say that at least 60 percent of the time I try not to be a smartass with stuff like that.
But if I'm to be totally honest, it has started to feel even more disingenuous to say that I'm a “Christian” with no other qualifiers. So I settled on “Christian – mostly.”
Counselor: What’s with the 'mostly'?
Me: It’s complicated.
Jared Witt l February 2, 2017
I have a friend who believes almost the opposite of everything that I believe.
At the center of the Venn Diagram, showing all the beliefs, interests, preferences, and hobbies that we share, there is golf, football, exactly one Tex Mex restaurant, and that’s about it.
Maybe that doesn’t sound like a very solid foundation for a friendship. But it’s actually one of the reasons that I value this relationship as highly as any in my life.
I have other friends who think like me, talk like me, vote like me, agree with me. What I love about this friendship is that this one is different. And there is data to show that this kind of friendship—a mixed-belief friendship—is increasingly rare in our society.
On how Castle Church is stirring up a movement from a brewery in Florida.