Unexpected Pie

Tonight I met three friends at the Fryn' Pan to share some hot chocolate and supper (or, in my case, just a cinnamon roll). Our conversation was great, with the usual topics of religion, God, and Christianity. (Everyone discusses these topics all the time, right?) Towards the end of our time there, our waitress insisted on us getting some dessert, but we were all so full. Shortly after we had received our checks, the waitress came over and placed a piece of chocolate creme pie in front of me. As I gave her a confused look (I had just eaten a huge cinnamon roll...), she informed me that it was from a gentlemen in the booth next to us. I glanced over, gave a quick awkward thank you, and quietly asked if any of my friends would help me eat it.

Thinking I had a creeper on my hands, I hesitated to stay at the restaurant after my friends had left (I was planning to stay by myself and do a little homework). But I did anyway, thinking that I could either ignore the man or tolerate a little small talk. 

He came over, telling me that he "broke the ice" with the pie because he had been listening to our conversation. He heard how I was saying that my faith has changed--how I don't really "pray" anymore and haven't read scripture for my own personal growth for awhile. He told me that I should really try to get back into "meditating" and reading the Bible--just by spending a few minutes every night doing that. "It will help you hear that still small voice in your head that will tell you what to do," he told me. He kept saying that he didn't know what God wanted me to do, but if I spent time with God, I would soon be able to focus and hear God's voice. I thought I was talking with a very "Christian" man who felt it was his duty to convert me...or convert me back into a "better " Christian with more open ears to what God is telling me.

As we continued talking, I asked him how long he had been a Christian. He told me it was somewhat complicated, and actually that as a teenager, he was driven away from the Christian church. He had met too many "Christians" who thought their way was the right and only way and anyone who thought differently was damned, stupid, or deeply fallen. He hasn't been to church since, nor does he consider himself a Christian.

So I asked another question: what scripture empowers him? I was trying to see what he would suggest for me to read, because he had been telling me to read more scripture. He told me he doesn't read the Bible. Confused and a bit taken aback, I asked him, "So do you even believe in God?" 

"I believe in a god," he told me.

"But not the so-called 'Christian' God?"

"Right."

He told me how he had found his belief on his own and in a whole different religion. I still could not understand how this man was telling me how to be a "better" Christian, even though it was not the tradition in which he found his faith. I questioned him about this, and he responded with, "I want to help you find whatever takes you in the right direction... We need more good people in this world." He thought that my "rediscovery" of scripture and meditation with God would help me become a better person in general. He had made it clear that he was not about to impose his beliefs, rather try to understand where I had come from (the Christian faith) in order to help me.

After about a half hour of chatting, I glanced at my watch and realized I needed to get going. As I stood up to leave, he pulled a necklace out of his shirt with a pentacle on it. "I practice Wicca," he told me.

I had just been told how to grow my relationship with God from a man who practices what is often considered witchcraft. How much he actually practices this religion, I don't know. But his concern was not in how he practices his beliefs, but how I ought to practice mine. I found this chat a bit hypocritical, and I did not like that he was telling me what I needed to do, but the whole conversation was so very intriguing and a bit inspiring. This man's interest was in helping me become a good person, regardless of whether or not I believed the same things he did. He did not care what God I was finding my trust in. He was only concerned that this belief/faith/trust/religion would motivate me to be a better person. I do not know much about the Wicca tradition, but maybe this is its teaching. Maybe it's his own philosophy. Either way, it fascinates me.

Could you imagine if more folks of different religions communicated in such a way when doing inter-religious dialogue? I do not think it's helpful to assume you know what a person needs to do to grow in his or her own personal faith, but if we could have more interest in trying to understand where people are coming from and maybe not get so caught up in the details of religion and tradition, maybe then we could seek out more ways to be "good people" rather than let our differences take over and hinder our conversation and learning.

Thank you, Wicca man, for the pie.