He’s Christian; I’m Agnostic

Some words on interreligious relationships, 5 years later.

Mina Azaria
6 min readMar 11, 2020
Photo by Kristina Litvjak on Unsplash

This month, we reach our 5-year anniversary. I never thought we would make it this far. Not only because this was my first serious relationship. Not only because we come from different countries and the obstacles that can propose. But mainly — because our perspectives of life, death, the universe, and everything — are fundamentally different.

This isn’t your regular case of he’s kinda religious, she kinda isn’t.

This isn’t your regular case of he’s kinda religious, she kinda isn’t. He is from an evangelical family, who attend church every week, pray before every meal, and studied the Bible every day. I am from a family who are not only not religious — but read the likes of Dawkins and Hitchens, who incessantly mock religion over dinner and throw around terms like “brainwashed,” “primitive” and “mumbo jumbo” during our daily discussions on spirituality of any kind.

How on earth did we get together? I'm still not sure. Divine intervention, perhaps.

But I have a hunch that it’s because, despite our upbringings being literally worlds apart, what we both have in common is an unquenchable fascination with life, death, the universe, and everything.

So my theory is that interreligious relationships can work, under one condition: It’s not the spiritual orientation that necessarily has to correspond, but the level of interest on the matter of spirituality in the first place. Just as a girl who only really thought about spirituality on Sundays, but identified as Christian nonetheless, would be less of a match with my boyfriend than my own over-thinking, annoyingly curious agnostic self.

Here’s the thing, my whole family is on the depressive side. My dad has been diagnosed with depression, as has my brother. My sister and I have not been formally diagnosed but I am pretty sure we are high-functioning depressives of some sort. So I have to ask myself — what is wrong with us? What do we all have missing in life?

As sensitive as he puts it, my boyfriend has a pretty good idea of what he believes we are missing. Why we all feel so empty and so hopeless at times — no matter how “well” things seem to be going in life. We have our basic needs met — sure, there are stressful periods, but overall, our lives are good.

And I know that countless others can relate to this persistent feeling of emptiness and hopelessness which transforms into an all-consuming sense of apathy for the world and our purpose in it. Perhaps its that painful combination of caring, and yet not believing.

If you don’t believe but you don’t care either then congrats to you — you can lead the modern “Godless” life with joy and fulfillment. But even among some of the most devout atheists, there are those who — although they don't believe — wished that they could. Or at the very least, wished that they had a deeper sense of purpose and meaning in their life. (In fact, I’d like to dedicate a whole article about just that — stay tuned.)

Is this really how life should be? As a relatively advanced and intelligent species, are we doomed to be down?

Is this really how life should be? As a relatively advanced and intelligent species, are we doomed to be down? Of course, I envy my boyfriend and his family for their relentless smiles and energy.

Lost your job? As one door closes, another one opens.

Money troubles? Just have faith and our heavenly father will provide.

Arguments brewing? Treat your neighbors how you wish to be treated and shower your fellow human beings with love and compassion.

I do wonder what the world would be like if everybody lived like this.

Sure, as my family just love to point out every Goddamn (sorry, honey) day — religion has also brought misery and suffering to the human race. From the wars it has started, to the terrorism and the genocides. Religion has a habit of manifesting in certain believers as judgemental, intolerant, and self-assured bigotry. We think of misogyny, homophobia, and hatred for anyone whose appearance or lifestyle isn’t a close enough match to that of their smug inner circle.

This is the type of thing that repulsed me and made me declare as a teen that religiosity in a guy was a deal-breaker for me. The angry Christians and Muslims I saw on TV, combined with my family's daily chats about how religion is responsible for all evil in the world, made me a self-confessed “angry atheist” before I even left school. And, as many things do, this only intensified during my college years.

Looking back now, in a way, I was radicalized. (A radical atheist — is that a thing?) I had been turned against entire chunks of the population and stopped viewing them as individuals. Just as those same angry Christians and Muslims I had seen on the TV growing up, who were intolerant towards those who didn’t subscribe to their worldview — I had become intolerant of those who didn't subscribe to mine. Is this really the best we can do?

My unashamedly Christian boyfriend came into my life during a time of intense stress. I wasn’t looking for anyone — let alone someone who first appeared so incompatible. However, though it took years to even identify as a confused agnostic, rather than an angry atheist, even in those first few months while I was still stubborn with my disbelief, his positivity and love for life were contagious — and it brought me out of a dark place.

Not to mention that he never judged me when I was upfront about my family’s views, about my own lack of belief, and about my mental health problems. He had his pick of picture-perfect church-going girls, and yet he chose sad, broken, me — who only brought unnecessary complication into his life.

Just as the many arguments I provoked with him over the years around his religion’s stance towards women, LGBTQ rights, and sex in general, didn't seem to phase him. He explained carefully his personal beliefs, reminding me that not all individuals — even when they identify with a larger group — think exactly alike.

In fact, he would insist that he enjoyed having these difficult conversations with me, as it gave him the chance not only to defend his faith and clear up and misconceptions I had, but also to get closer to me. For us to know each other more deeply.

And you know what? The constant arguments actually made our relationship stronger.

Don’t rule out whole groups of people because of how you expect them to be.

I guess the point of this is to say — don’t rule out whole groups of people because of how you expect them to be, or what you expect them to believe. Just as you condemn that in some hyper-religious people, take a look at your own biases.

The universe has a strange way of giving you exactly what you didn’t think you wanted — but what you actually need. As to whether or not this is the work of our benevolent creator — for me, the jury is still out.

But whatever you believe, be kind. Be open. Listen to other points of view and make a genuine effort to understand them. And don’t be afraid to get close to people outside of your own monotonous echo chamber.

Trust me — once you both accept that you won't agree on everything, it can be invigorating to challenge and be challenged each day, and to have deep discussions on the regular. People who you can verbally wrestle with. Not only can it keep you on your toes, but it can be hot.

As long as your core values are the same — kindness, compassion, living life to the full and questioning everything, for example — then where’s the fun in also agreeing on absolutely everything? What would you even talk about?

But don't get me wrong — if you don't have a break from this back-and-forth once in a while, to just enjoy each other’s company and engage in frivolous activities, laugh about trivial topics — you will burn out hard. And it may break you, as well as the relationship.

Overall, here’s to unconventional relationships. Those between two people you wouldn’t assume could fit together — but against all the odds, turn out to not only be pretty awesome, but actually cause you both to grow as people.

Just open yourself up to new experiences and enjoy the ride. The universe can prove us all wrong.

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