Attempted Conversion #1

Yesterday, I was walking from Jabal al-Hussein to al-Balad when a chatty guy approached me. I'm in a talk-to-everyone mode right now so I didn't immediately see what he was up to, but it shortly became clear. He was trying to convert me, but here's the kicker: he wasn't Muslim, he was a friggin' Baptist.

When I'm traveling in Arab countries, I usually just say I'm Catholic because that is an acceptable alternative to Islam for most Arabs, and is far simpler than explaining mixed religious heritage, doubts, love of rituals, and the other issues I have with religion. However, Catholic wasn't good enough for the Arab Baptist. Have you ever heard, "Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your personal savior?" in Arabic? I have.

The Christianity for which I still have affection is the polar opposite of what he was selling. I really believe that actions matter, that you can't just pray your way out, as the Baptist was telling me I should. When I was thumbing through the Jesuit Refugee Service newsletter while waiting for students to show up a few days ago, I read that the Jesuits set up a LGBT safe house in Baghdad. It's that commitment to social justice and doing good things that improve people's lives (rather than just pounding dogma down people's throats) that still gives me hope about Catholicism.

So getting back to the persistent Baptist, we had walked for about thirty minutes and were entering the busier section of town, and he was still talking really loudly about Jesus, salvation and the next life on the day before Ramadan. Awkward.

When he got pushier with the questions, I pulled out a quote from my prophet, my nebi, my rasool.

Baptist: "After this life, how will you live, Ted?"
Me: "In mansions and benzs, giving ends to my friends and it feels stupendous."

Apparently, when uncomfortable and pushed into a corner, I fight my way out with hip-hop non-sequiturs.