Monday, August 30, 2010

Wherein I confess to my Christianity problem

I should probably turn in my goodness card. I blew up — via email — at a well-meaning Christian who wrote to tell me that all I needed was prayer to find the Holy Spirit. This happened about a week ago. I’ve been mulling over the incident ever since and have realized that I need to make a confession: I have a Christianity problem.

To be specific, I’m rather famous among my friends for responding with an instantly arched back, flattened ears, puffed up fur, bared fangs and a loud, prolonged hiss to any mention of Jesus, Christ, The Bible or traditional churches. Like a tabby that turns a corner to unexpectedly bump into a pit bull, I find myself thrown into battle mode.

This is decidedly odd given that some of my best friends are Christians. I’m not joking. Two of them are even ministers. I vacation with them, laugh, debate and explore spirituality with them. These two aren’t mere acquaintances. They’re call-in-the-middle-of-the-night-when-I’m-desperate friends.

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