I realize that we all aren’t on the same page here. We’ve got our own agendas and our own belief systems. We’ve got life down and we’ve got it figured out. Suggestions are welcome, but only if we’re in the mood to really hear them. Otherwise, keep your opinions to yourself.

I know you’re busy but can I ask you something? Can I ask it hoping you’ll pull up a chair to my table and have an open mind? That you won’t fly off the handle, jump to conclusions or form opinions without really thinking about what I have to say?

OK.

When did religion get a bad rap?

Seriously. Clear your mind of what end of the spectrum you’ve got your feet firmly planted on. Forget the extremists, the drawn-out services, the traditions, the riots, the separation of Church and State.

Why is it such a big deal to be proud of your faith? When did it become customary to raise an eyebrow when “God” or “Jesus” passes over the lips of someone in conversation?

Perhaps it’s because the very idea of faith and religion is worlds away from what it was just a year ago in my mind. Perhaps it’s because I’ve met and let a lot of unfriendly people come way too close to my heart and my life and I now know there’s more to the world than just them.

Perhaps it’s because I’m growing, grown, older. Perhaps it’s because I care to listen. I care about more than just myself. I want to be better, live better and surround myself with people who have those same goals.

I’ve found them through church.

What kind of thought does that spark in your mind? Do you think it’s weird? Do you think I’m a freak? Does it make you uncomfortable? Do you think it’s dumb?

Can you identify with that? Can you understand it? Do you care to?

Do you think it’s “cool” but pass over it, like a box of Cheerios in an entire aisle devoted to cereal? Another flavor. Another day. It’s just faith, after all. You’ve got your own belief system – and it’s working out just fine.

I was the same way.

Having been raised Catholic, religion felt more like an obligation than anything else. Sunday mornings – and later Wednesday nights – were devoted to an hour of Sunday School and an hour of church. By the time I was in first grade, I could recite the entire mass right along with the priest. Stand up, sit down, kneel. Communion, confession, sharing the sign of peace, hymns and homilies. One blurred into the next.

It’s not that I didn’t care. I just didn’t care. Do you know what I mean?

Now, it’s of an importance to me. It’s something that has pulled me through a really tough year. It’s given me light in what felt like an eternally dark room. It’s proven itself time and time again to always be what picks me up when everything else has let me down.

Yet, I still find myself the recipient of the quizzical stares, the five seconds of silence, the cookie cutter “that’s nice” response.

If it’s not that, it’s an intense debate. A series of questions fired off by a spiteful tongue. Furrowed brows, cut-off sentences and defensive comebacks. It almost feels like they have the right to come at me, but I have no right to stand behind what I believe in.

Maybe these people find religion to be cheesy. Perhaps they can’t believe that something as simple as prayer and a book that’s thousands of years old can change a life. After all, it’s 2010; we live in a world webbed in wi-fi where our laptops and smart phones defy all odds. Tell me then, when life gets down to the wire, when you’re at the end of your rope and it feels like you’ve got nowhere to turn, is there an app for that? Does inner peace come from your iPhone, your credit card or your 42” high definition television?

I’m not trying to push a religious agenda on you. I’m not trying to convey that you should even attend church or pray or believe in God. It’s just something that has worked for me even after spending two decades not really getting it. I’ve been a witness to the pushy preaching. I pushed it right back. I’ve listened to the radicals who believe if you don’t live without sin, you’re damned to hell. I’ve read about extremists who protest and riot. I know there are people out there who will write you off if you don’t believe in the exact same thing and who look down on anyone who does just one thing wrong in their book.

I’ve dealt with them in the best way I know how – with an open mind. I’ve interjected my opinion when it’s asked, but I’ve taken it for what it’s worth and walked away. I didn’t get angry. I didn’t get hostile and start yelling. I didn’t call them stupid. I let them have their say because I believe that’s the respectful thing to do.

Despite that, I know what it’s like to get turned off by people and situations like that. I also know there is a completely different side to faith; one that accepts you for who you are or what your past entails. The people you’ll meet that are real people. They don’t sit at home and read the Bible every night – they lead exciting, normal lives. They are at your grocery store, sitting in the same movie theater, stuck in traffic at rush hour. They get angry and mad and sad and frustrated and happy. They live the same life you and I do, and it’s not a perfect one. In a word, they are me. And you’re coming here to read what I have to say, so I have to assume you think I’m cool, or nice, or smart, or something. But you don’t think I’m a freak or an agenda-pusher.

Do I think it would benefit the non-believers if they shared the same beliefs I do? Absolutely. If they came to me, seeking advice, I’d tell them and encourage them to pray and ask for guidance. We’re all self-proclaimed experts in something, right? Why can’t mine be titled, “How faith changed my life”?

So, I’m just wondering, then, why is it OK for you to clamor on about your fantasy football team, your frequent flier miles, the four-star restaurant you had dinner at, the latest episode of “Real Housewives,” who won “Survivior,” your latest celebrity crush, your boyfriend, your engagement ring, your wedding plans, your 401K, your birthing plan, your volunteer work, your intermural soccer league, your training runs, your baking skills or Sunday Night Football without me asking, “Why?” or harshly voicing my “I don’t believe in that,” opinion. Yet, when it’s my turn to talk about something I enjoy and love, too often that’s exactly where the conversation goes.

In lieu of a “good tidings and cheer” Christmas message, that is the question I’m posing to you instead.

After all, you wouldn’t spend your Saturday morning in leaps and bounds over the latest gotta-have-it-gadget or designer handbag if it wasn’t for religion. So tell me, when did it get a bad rap?