Confession is part of a faith geek’s life, so here’s mine. I am a prodigal faith geek. For a large part of my life I was a person bordering on atheism and considered those who chose a life of faith intellectually impaired and/or psychologically needy.
God is always on the look-out for people like me and perhaps takes a perverse sort of pleasure in getting us to admit how wrong we are. Like C.S. Lewis, my conversion was a reluctant one; the Hound of Heaven pursued me relentlessly and left me little choice in the matter.
Maybe that’s why I suffer from a sense of inferiority when I meet up with the older-brother-type faithful, the ones who come from a long line of pastors or attend a church founded by their great-great-grandparents. (I did have four great uncles who were Roman Catholic priests, but they were an aberration rather than the norm in my family.)
I haven’t tried to hide my prodigal past and know that many others in the faith community share my history, but I sometimes find myself feeling out of place in gatherings of religious leaders, just waiting for someone to usher me out and tell me I don’t belong, I’m not part of them. Yes, I know it’s silly and our faith is all about redemption and renewal, but that’s how I feel…