“I believe in a higher power,” he said, “I just don’t think I have to believe some preachers interpretation of who that is.”

“Well, you don’t,” I said. “You don’t have to believe anything. But don’t you think you owe it to yourself to find out why some people do believe in God – even this God? I mean, if the higher power you believe in revealed himself to us in the Bible, wouldn’t you want to at least get closer to that? That’s the beauty of the Bible; you can check it out for yourself. You don’t have to rely on the preacher’s interpretation.”

He thought about that for a minute. “Yeah, but the Bible is full of contradictions. How can I trust it?”

I was suddenly aware of the fact that I had heard these excuses before, and I imagined he had used them many times. This conversation was probably not going to go anywhere it hadn’t already been. I didn’t even sense his heart was in it. This was the pre-programmed religion discussion we were having, and his answers were a way of keeping this all at a safe distance.

Suddenly I got an idea. “You know, I grew up in a world where no one questioned any of this stuff. The Bible was the word of God; Jesus was who he said he was; the preacher was telling the truth. It wasn’t any big deal; that’s just the way it was. But here’s the deal: in believing it, I experienced God. Even as a kid. There were times I was so flooded with the presence of God that I knew he was there and I knew he loved me.”

I thought I saw him perking up a little as I said this. Something was getting through. “Later,” I went on, “I did go through a time when I questioned these issues you raised… Was the Bible reliable? What about the preacher? Did I believe this stuff just because I was raised in it? If I’d been raised in a Buddhist family, would I be a Buddhist? I wrestled with all those questions, and I got answers that cleared my doubts, but it wasn’t those answers that did it for me, and I don’t think if I could somehow answer your questions right now that it would necessarily make a lot of difference to you. But I bet it would make a big difference if you could experience God. I mean really experience God.”

“It might,” he said, trying to be casual about it, but I could tell he was much more engaged than that.

“So what are you going to do?” I asked, surprising myself that I was throwing it back on him. He looked surprised, too.

“I – I don’t know. What do you think?”

“Ask him.”

“Ask him what?”

“Ask him to reveal himself to you.”

“I’ll have to think about that,” he said, and somehow I knew he would.