So I’m in Dresden and it’s a beautiful city and the buildings are old and glorious in their own right and really it’s the layout that’s so perfect. The epic buildings are clustered together in a beautiful square that has been marketed for the affluent travelers who can afford to stay at Swissôtels or The Westin Dresden. The brightly lit, clean shops guide the (window) shopper from storefront to storefront of expensive and interesting things, all situated among tall, gorgeous buildings.

Last night I was acquainting myself with these buildings brilliant set against a dark, dark sky, I got an email from my dad about my parents last will and testament. Mom and Dad are in New York right now and I suppose there’s the minuscule chance that they would both be killed in a plane crash. Thought they’ve been on other trips without us, for some reason, this was the right time to enlighten my sister and I on all of their assets and how they would be distributed amongst us.

It’s a sad but hard truth that my parents won’t be living forever. I went through a range of emotions as I walked back including tears a la carte which I managed to walk off without too much damage. You see I’m not a medium cryer. There are two types, I tear up at the thought of something sad, or something really jabs me and there’s no return. I don’t cry at the end of the movie and then go about my business. That’s not how my tears roll.

At the end of the email, my dad said “This is all shared with you in case the Lord decides to take us home.”

I stopped by the Fraunkirche as I read the last words “take us home.”

At first I felt comforted that my mom and dad feel like they have a home. Seeing as I am as far from knowing what home feels like in Dresden, Germany, I’m glad that my dad has that to believe in. I’m glad that when he goes he will feel ready, that he will be complete once he meets his true Father. And this is when the tears fell because I know I don’t believe in such a transition, “going to a better place,” or meeting my maker. While I could sit and tell the story of my search for answers, I’ve lived it now for 10 years and the process was heartbreaking, forlorn, painful and deep. I don’t care to describe it unless there is a need.

Instead, I think it’s important at this point that I say what I believe.

The main reason is that I want my parents to know Now, I don’t feel like I am obliged to tell them, but I do think that they perhaps should know, since the opportunity is available.

I wanted to start by responding to my dad’s email and say, Dad, I want to tell you that even though I didn’t settle on the conclusion about the universe that you and Mom believe and that forged your career path as a minister, I should say that I want you to know that I always wanted to make you proud. This may have actually been the exact moment that I started to cry as I was walking along the old, uneven cobblestones. When do children not cry when they say this to their parents? “I always wanted to make you proud”? That’s something that just belongs with tears. Now I remember how I wanted to start a response: “I suppose that a ‘thank-you’ wouldn’t be an appropriate response” (because it is not wide enough, it’s weight-bearing capacity is somewhere between a term used for ugly Christmas sweaters and a bike you always wanted) “but there is no other word I could really offer in response to this message. I hope you know that I always wanted you to approve of my life and decisions, and to hopefully make you proud.” despite the several times I probably didn’t and ultimately the main reason that you will never be at peace with who I am being that I don’t have a set faith or list of beliefs.

And this is what I started to think about today because, I do. I do have a set of beliefs, not to mention that everyone has a set of beliefs because if we’ve ever sat in a chair we had a belief about that chair before and after sat in it. It’s not a set of beliefs that fit in an acronym like John Calvin’s TULIP or the bulleted list of results of the Nicean Creed.

But I have beliefs, I have a lot of thoughts, so I’ve crafted them here because I get asked more often than you’d imagine, or maybe as often as you’d imagine, but it feels often to me.

Maybe it’s because of how forward people are in asking me what I believe, and I think they have this right because they know/about my father and they are curious. To be honest, I find the question quite rude because I usually don’t know them and it’s none of their damn business? And I don’t wander around asking near-strangers deeply personal questions, but I think that perhaps they assume, because my dad is a minister, that because his faith is public information that my faith is just as public. At any rate, it’s not. But if it has to be, I will make it my business to describe in detail what it is that I believe, and maybe this will at least answer the question for people who want to know. I am trying to keep the emotions that are so closely tied with this conversation (as it is very sensitive to me) to describe without anger or hate where I am coming from. You asked, so here is my response.

So What DO You Believe?:

First of all: The natural response would be FUCK YOU.

You don’t know me and you want to know what I believe? Let me get this straight, you believe that your faith is the single-most important factor of your life, the deepest, most important relationship in your life is with the Lord, in fact, you believe that it is a matter of literal life and death, eternity in heaven or eternity in hell, salvation, the crux of who you are that guides all of your decisions, and in a matter of 5 words and no relational history with me, you have asked of me to share this very depth with you?

So that is the reason for the Fuck You.

But I said I wasn’t going to be angry so, I’m off to a running start.

Secondly: Why don’t you be specific?

Do you realize that the question “What do you believe?” is more vague than most any question that has ever been asked in the history of all questions?

You’ve probably assumed that I know the lingo because of my upbringing, that “What do you believe” implies the “about what.” But it doesn’t imply that.

There is only one implication of this question, that I’ve already established, which is that you think you have the right to know.

So.. Let me provide a list of “abouts”:

-Gay Marriage

-Abortion

-Monogamy

-Gender roles in the church

-About the existence of a heaven or a hell

-Sin

-Absoute Truth

These are less specific options:

-About Jesus

-About God

-About the Bible

Sure, ask me them, but prepared for me to retort: “What about Him/It?”

If it’s you’re right to ask me what I believe, perhaps it would be helpful or respectful or just damn time-conscious for you to thoughtfully phrase your questions before you ask them.

But assuming you aren’t specific, or I just guess what “abouts” you are questioning, let me answer as best I know how (and I promise I will turn down the sass):