In the beginning was the word. Many words, in fact.
I wasn't raised to discuss religion. Like discussing one's personal finances, it was considered mildly rude at best. My family didn't have much use for religion; my mother is more or less ambivalently agnostic, and my dad gravitated toward some morally lazy and noncommittal form of spiritualism over the last several decades. Growing up in the 90s and early 2000s, when religion was openly scoffed at as the province of the uneducated and ignorant, reinforced my reluctance. I'd practice my religion in private. Quietly believing was real belief, right? No need to announce it to everyone. It would just make things awkward, especially if they had preconceived notions about my religion. Even among fellow believers I'm often reluctant to share out of a desire not to seem preachy or vapid or judgmental. I've never kept it a secret, but I never went out of my way to bring it up, either. A few weeks ago, I received a very unexpected but clear impress...