Dammit.

A new couple moved in upstairs a while back. They seemed fun enough, and we hit it off pretty well. We went out to dinner with them one evening and while the girls chatted the guy, who I'll call "Bob," turned to me and we embarked upon the following conversation:

Bob: So hey, what religion are you?
El Ráy: Well Bob, I'm an atheist.
Bob: Are you serious?
El Ráy: Yes.
Bob: I'm a Christian. I've been Born Again.
El Ráy: Um, okay.
Bob: You don't believe in God?
El Ráy: No Bob, I don't.
Bob: Aren't you worried about going to Hell?
El Ráy: Nope.
Bob: What do you mean, 'nope?'
El Ráy: It's like this, Bob: I don't believe in God, which means I don't believe in Heaven. It also means that I don't believe in Satan or Hell, either. It's a package deal.
Bob: Did you ever believe in God?
El Ráy: For a while, yes.
Bob: What happened?
El Ráy: Not enough added up. I couldn't roll with the contradictions.
Bob: But the Bible says that if you don't accept Jesus as your savior, you'll go to hell.
El Ráy: That's assuming that the Bible is true.
Bob: It IS true! It's the word of God.
El Ráy: Actually, it's not. It's a bunch of books written by a bunch of guys, who all had axes to grind.
Bob: It seems like you know a lot about the Bible.
El Ráy: In this day and age, I have to be able to defend my beliefs with knowledge.
Bob: Why?
El Ráy: Because if I tell people I'm an atheist, I'm usually treated to incessant questioning and attempts to "Save" me. Have you ever read the entire Bible, Bob?
Bob: I've read some parts of it. Have you?
El Ráy: Yes, I have.
Bob: Why?
El Ráy: Partly because I think that if I'm going to be called on the carpet for my non-belief, I'd better have my ducks in a row. Besides, the Bible was largely responsible for my realization that God doesn't exist.
Bob: How can you say that?
El Ráy: I'd be a liar if I said anything else.
Bob: You know, I went through a rough time in my life (this is where Bob spent about ten minutes attempting to witness to me and, of course, save me).
El Ráy: That's great, Bob. I'm glad you found something that works for you. You do realize that what you were just doing was attempting to save me, right?
Bob: I was just...
El Ráy: Bob, I respect your right to believe however you see fit and I won't try to convert you. Can you do the same for me?
Bob: Um, sure.
El Ráy: Great.

This peaceable agreement lasted until the following weekend when we went out with them again and Bob, who was driving, wanted me to hear a CD of "this really awesome band" he liked. It was, of course, a Christian band.

More often than not, this is how it goes. I have to be prepared for the full-on assault of the religious types because they are wholly incapable of abiding any belief (and especially non-belief) that they can't understand. I am ready and willing to agree to disagree and respect their rights and yet, they just can't or won't do the same.

So, Bob and I became polite neighbors, but never really friends. It wasn't for lack of trying on my part and while we never spoke of it again, the reason was obvious: when puch came to shove, Bob just couldn't roll with a friend who doesn't believe. So it goes.