Reading Francis

I didn’t set out to be that guy. 

Today, in a work meeting about implementing a new campaign, in a discussion of using social media, a colleague who is also a Facebook friend and Twitter follower talked about my social media presence saying “you post about…your faith, and stuff.” I could tell he was looking for safer ground but couldn’t think of anything else I posted on. 

A few hours before that, another Facebook friend sent me (via Messenger, so private) a link to a phenomenal article by a Christian pastor from a Muslim family that was poignant in its reflection on that tension and beautiful in its theology. 

I often hear, when having coffee or lunch or meetings with friends who know me online, Pope Francis’ latest escapades as an ice breaker. 

I had a friend tag me in a discussion of mortal and venial sins. 

I’m cool with all this. I have no regrets and at least a little joy in this. But I’m not sure how I got here and certainly didn’t intend it. 

I’ve become that Catholic guy or the Christian guy for my little social circle. 

I’m definitely not qualified. I’m a convert who studied theology a little in a Methodist seminary, but I’m still weak on the saints and often confuse Fatima, Lourdes, and most of the other Marian stuff. And I’m nowhere near the holiest person in my house. 

I’m big on not talking faith at work, because I agree it’s not appropriate as a boss to bring theological discussion to the office. (Though when other people talk about their faith, I’m fascinated.) And for a good little while I kept my observations on Pope Francis to Facebook and Facebook for friends and not coworkers – that is, people I would have a drink with or share our non-work lives with. 

But along the way, I gave up on those barriers and, with the occasional caveat emptor let in all comers. For better or worse, this is who I am. I am that guy. 

What happened?