IMPRESSIONS

Custom Search

“And So the Deaf Will Hear”

By Debbie Chen
Staff Writer

Feb 16, 2010

The price of a sandwich at Einstein Brothers nearly equals the hourly salary of a poor college-student.  I had already eaten half, mourning each slice of lettuce as a forsaken dollar bill.  Rather than dwell on my dwindling funds, I looked up to share a grin with my new friend Jim*. But the smile returned was a bleak one.

“I need to tell you something,” he said, his fingers twisting nervously around themselves. His face was as guilty as mine was when I had paid for the sandwich. “Promise you won’t get mad?”

My mind spun wildly.  We had only met a few hours ago when he had timidly approached me with compliments about my piano playing.  Given my freshman status, which usually was accompanied by obsessive friend-making syndrome, I had struck up a forty minute conversation before whisking him away to the Carnegie museums.  Perhaps he thought I was too bold?  Or did he think I was weird that whole time?  Oh no, I thought miserably, maybe he’s those guys that fall head over heels with a girl over a single lunch.

“Sure thing,” I said with a much too bright smile.

“Well, uh, you see, I think there’s been some misunderstanding.  I’m not exactly Christian.”

My memories immediately rewound back to our trip to the museum, where we had studied a religious painting, and then jumped to him reminiscing about his youth group.  My thoughts then gravitated to when we first met and I had played a worship song I had composed to him.  How, I wondered with a little discomfort, did he feel about that?

But something still didn’t click with me.  “So?”

His eyes widened.  “So you’re not mad,” he said slowly.

I had found it a habit to talk about God; I had only assumed it was his too when he reciprocated his own experiences with his church.  Nevertheless, I was still baffled.  “No.  Of course not!”

“Whew,” he breathed a sigh of relief.  “I was worried for a while.”

As I reassured him over and over again that I didn’t see him as a horrible liar unworthy of living, as he was convinced I would, he slowly began to open up on when he didn’t believe and the circumstances. 

On the other hand, I began to consider the image of Christianity he had.  Did he really think someone who was a devout follower of God would outright shun him?  And what would cause him to believe that?

As I engaged in philosophical conversations that ranged from the meaning of life to the purpose of God during my freshman year, this sort of encounter grew frequent.  Though I desired to lift God up in my conversations, I was against forcing beliefs into my friends’ minds.  To me, aggressive persistence in the name of conversion never had positive results.  I found that the more I listened, the sharper the world’s image of Christianity became to me.  And it was far from good.

Through four hour long talks at night with my other friend Ryan*, I learned that though someone may not associate with a certain religion, it did not imply that he hadn’t considered spirituality.  In fact, Ryan had shaped a meaning for himself for so long that I felt as if I had to peel layers and layers away from his self-constructed religion to grasp its entirety.  Heavily similar to Taoist beliefs, his beliefs and mine sparred throughout the night, each armored with one of the most important aspects in any debate: mutual respect.

I must admit that it intrigued me to see my normally laidback friend brim over with passion.  I swear Ryan’s eyes drilled holes in my head in its intensity as he expounded on his theories, emphasizing his points with momentary ‘but ahh’s and excited pacing.  I listened and asked questions, with the persistent hope that if I poked enough holes into the fabric of his theory, he would stop to deeply rethink his ideas. 

“What I like about this,” he said of the conversation, “is that you actually listen.  Because, seriously, who really cares what another thinks?  People only want to state what they think they know.”  He had expected Christians to fiercely fight back with their beliefs, leaving him no room to contribute to the conversation. 

Strangely, Ryan knew and accepted with mild amusement that I wanted to change his mind, which I had boldly informed him.  I felt that I should freely reveal my purpose to him, that is, to have him consider Christianity in a new light and begin to accept God.  What was the point of hiding the truth?

But this situation seemed eerily similar to the one with Jim’s.  Both boys had believed that Christians would immediately reject what they said as worthless.  And both had respected what I believed.  Perhaps many non-Christians aren’t against discussing God as a subject, but instead hold resentment to their forced silence.

At the very least, I would like to develop a method of spiritual discussion that involves listening as a major component.  Though standing firm in my beliefs is essential, I should still actively understand the other.  For if I do not comprehend the definition someone else has for his meaning of life, how can I possibly communicate and express God in terms that both parties will understand?

Admittedly, I do fear that overexposure to a multitude of beliefs may weaken my own set in time.  But as my youth leader told me, I should not fear asking the hard questions, for if God is real, He will meet me in my doubts.  Furthermore, the influence of real faith runs deeper than that stemming from ignorance.  Yes, my discussions may lead me to consider difficult questions and perspectives.  But the risk is worthwhile, because to truly affect someone else’s beliefs, I would first have to listen and understand them.

*Name changed for privacy purposes

Debbie Chen is a member of Pitt Asian-InterVarsity!

Express Your View

 “Blind Man Blesses Magnificently By Making Beautiful Music!” (Nov 30, 09)  By Debbie Chen

Views Vastly Changed Concerning Clubbing During Dances! (Oct 28, 09, 12:46 p.m.) By Debbie Chen