I’m not an atheist. I’m not a whopping great Jesus-lover either.
I suppose aside from a few core values that I won’t bore you with (but which may include an unfounded conviction that if there is a heaven it will involve some sort of roller disco and the greatest hits of Leo Sayer playing on a loop), my great overriding belief is that it’s completely okay to believe in whatever you want, and that it’s even okay to talk about it, as long as you’re not on a recruitment drive, and as long as you’re not obnoxious about it.
But what constitutes obnoxiousness and what is mere youthful enthusiasm?
I was on a bus today (going to Brent Cross shopping mall to spend basically my entire pay check on clothes, shoes and hair clips), and just as my iPod battery died, this obnoxious but sort of sweet teenage boy behind me thought it was an appropriate moment to stand up and tell the assembled commuters how Jesus felt about us.
Apparently from Jesus’ perspective, it’s quite a positive relationship we’ve got. That’s with all of us, according to this kid – even the bitch who rudely pushed in front of me to get on the bus, which I thought was stretching the imagination a bit, but I didn’t say so.
I’m not sure this boy got the reaction he was after though. He didn’t really get any reaction. I don’t know how he felt about this. I suspect it must have been a bit of an anticlimax.
The thing is, I wanted to tell him, you’ve got to pick your audience. We’re in England. It’s not that we don’t appreciate the abstract fondness of your personal deity. It’s just that any public displays of affection make us feel faintly uncomfortable. Even if they come from an omnipotent, salvation-providing father figure.
I mean… thanks anyway. But seriously.
