Nearly Every Creed in the World

I grew up in a Christian family with five brothers and five sisters. Our home was in a wooded cul-de-sac, and our favorite TV show was "Little House on the Prairie," a classic American story about a family of faith. Every night after dinner, my parents led the family in reading the Bible and singing hymns together. All of my friends were Christians.

Now in my late 20s, I'm married without kids. I live and work in one of the world's largest and most diverse cities, home to millions of people of nearly every creed in the world. I identify myself with Christianity, yet I'm a different kind of believer than I used to be.

When I was growing up, I held signs in the streets that said "Abortion Is Murder." I interrupted strangers having lunch at the local mall to warn them about going to hell. I wrote nasty op-eds for right-wing magazines about godless Americans. I condemned everyone, including fellow Christians, who didn't share my stiff-necked beliefs.

Today I think differently about Christianity. I put love at the center of my faith. I respect the beliefs of others and I often reconsider my own beliefs, many of which keep changing. When I find myself discussing faith and spirituality with another person, I'm more likely to ask questions now than provide answers. I try to express what I believe by affirming instead of condemning.

When I was in college, I visited a gathering of Bahais who follow the faith revealed by Baha'u'llah, the 19th-century Persian prophet. Before I could explain that I was doing research for a term paper on the sociology of religion, they greeted and embraced me. They introduced me to their children and led me to a table spread with sweet-smelling Iranian food. Together we enjoyed the meal and had rollicking conversations about God, family, country. In the Bahai community I felt welcome, like a son.

Someday I would like to have children of my own, and I want them to have similar experiences with people of many different beliefs. I pray they can enjoy the fullness of the human family.