Nones I have known
We hear a lot about the "nones" these days: Americans who claim no connection to any particular faith. We'll hear a lot more too, as recent studies document this ever-expanding slice of the American demographic pie. We hear less, however, about the nones as individuals. But like any pastor, I’ve known more than a few in my time. At 20 percent of society, they are literally everybody's friends and neighbors.
One none I know—a Marine medic turned hippie seamstress and triathlete—had a kid in the same class as my son. She and her husband eventually moved their daughter to another school, but I still hear from her whenever a big religion or political story moves. She sends me links, wants to know what I think.
Another woman, a refugee from a Church of England upbringing, is a friend who brought her family to sit with mine on our last Sunday at my former church. She wept with my wife and shot death stares at the people who had given me such grief over the years. Her husband, another runaway from England's medieval cathedrals, sat bored through most of the service. He liked my sermon but admitted it was difficult not to come up with dirty jokes during it. Maybe that’s just him.
