Some of my best conversations come over my first cup of coffee in the early morning, and some come over my last beer in the very, very early morning.

This post is about the former.

Lately, I've been working out each weekday morning with a good friend. In my attempt to lose the 35 pounds necessary to remove my least favorite set of chins, I've taken on a fairly rigorous diet and excercise plan. The plan goes like this:
1. Get up at 6:20, pick up friend down the street and get to gym by 6:30.
2. Work out until 7:30.
3. Sit on friend's porch and drink coffee until 8:15, and talk about the stuff of life.

Every morning we tackle the same three topics, and one wildcard. We talk about sex, we talk about faith & religion, and we talk about the squirrels that are eating a hole in his roof. The wildcard topic depends on what movie was on in the cardiocinema, how work is going, and how strong the coffee is. Either way, it's always a pleasant way to start my morning, and I love the conversation.

This morning was harder than previous...

This morning we talked about heaven and hell and what makes a Christian and what makes you saved. My friend is a very smart 20-something with a lifetime of history in the church, several years of missionary experience, and deep knowledge of the Bible. I am a very smart 20-something with a lifetime of history in and out of churches, several years of church employment, and a deep-seated need to keep asking the question.

He talked about his very cool experiences traveling the country and watching pagan people in pagan rituals at pagan festivals worshiping humanism and reveling in relativism. He said he hates relativism. He's got answers that involve Jesus, and the Bible, and what you have to figure out before you die.

I respect that...but I don't have those answers. I've got lots and lots of questions...but not a lot of answers. I know it's supposed to be noble to have questions...it's the intellectual pursuit, right? But that's not entirely true...I do have answers, I just have them for a while. I've known for a long time that a belief that the Bible is infallible feels wrong to me. I've known for a long time that the idea that you must "give your life" to Christ before you die in order to be with God in the afterlife feels wrong to me. I've known that the pursuit of God may be the end in and of itself, and that feels right to me.

It's a weak man that pretends shys away from what he knows is true...and these are what's true, at least as far as I can tell right now. And he shared what he believes is true, and that makes him strong too.

He is what most would call a Christian. And, for the first time since high school, I'm fairly convinced that by many standards, I am not. Some of my questions...and some of my truths...don't match those of the Christians I went to Young Life with and volunteered at church with and sit next to at work. In fact, it's quite probable that I've become the dangerous brand of pseudo-Christian that my youth-group leaders warned us about...the kind that question the basic truths of Christianity, and bit-and-piece out the Bible at there own discretion to match their worldviews. For the first time since becoming a young man, I am the moral relativist compared to those who used to be my peers. I still have so many questions left to answer, and I'm not ready to settle into some of the truths of fundamental Christianity.

I am the outsider in some ways...stuck in bizarre purgatory between religions...and I think I'm learning how to value that.

More to come, I'm sure.

Peace,
Justin