After enjoying a lovely dinner last night with new clergy friends, I came home to unwind, pay bills and talk to this new boy interest. It was an annoying conversation. He asked the same questions that he had already asked. I didn't play it cool. I called him on it. He didn't seem all that bright while claiming to be an intellectual type. Nothing about his personality seemed to have all that much depth.
We had already talked about not showing up at church to "check me out" but he confessed that he had thought about doing it anyhow. I was annoyed. We met online. It's been clumsy with his worklife and Christmas smackdab in the middle of our trying to get to know each other. And he's worse at the phone than I am. (This is a special talent reserved for the very few.)
So, he sends me an email this morning to tell me that he doesn't want to have dinner with me after all. He explains that I'm religious and he's not -- and that will only be awkward. He carries on this inner monologue is five paragraphs of email while also including that I'm not well-read and narrowminded. Is it unfair that I think he's actually the one that's narrow?
I hate that others assume what it means to be religious. I hate that this is a barrier in dating. Ask me. Don't assume that you know. Don't write me off after an awkward conversation because you can't remember that we have already had this conversation. Yes, this is a weird flaw of dating clergy. It's our job to remember conversations and remember details in some strange mental catalog that no one understands. Yes, I remember our conversation and what you said. But, I'm more sorry that you can't imagine what it might mean for someone to be religious and interested in people that are not. I'm sorry that you can't think outside of the box. But, most of all, I'm angry that you sent me this email first thing in my day. I want to pray to God to smite you except for the small problem that I don't understand prayer or God's actions in that way.
But instead, I'm going to talk to a lesbian couple about their union because their home church has shunned them. Isn't it wonderful that I'm called to stand in these wonderful moments of love? Or is it tragic that I'm becoming more bitter?