Why I Prefer Cookies

This year, the neighbors and I made a big leap — some might call it a leap of faith. Every year, like many neighbors, we exchange Christmas goodies. This year, however, she left a framed picture of Jesus.

It's not that I don't like Jesus — of course I know that He is the reason for the season, and we keep Christ the center of our Advent and Christmas traditions. It's a nice picture, and I know the thoughts behind it came from a good place. But it's part of a trend in our relationship that makes me less than comfortable.

This neighbor constantly invites me to activities or events with her. She calls them "girls nights" or "cooking classes." What they actually are is relief society meetings at her church. When I said I was busy, she offered to give me a ride. I'd been feeling guilty that the only reason I always turn her down is that they are church activities. But a co-worker pinned down why I feel uncomfortable — it's not because I don't want to do something in a church that isn't my own. It's because that is the ONLY place that she asks me to go. We don't have lunch together. We don't chat on a regular basis. She doesn't know what kind of books I read or what movies I like, or that we attend our own church every week. She doesn't know that my daughter attends a school with a religion-based curriculum.  Our main connection is once every few weeks when she invites me to church. It changes the message from friendly and neighborly to "I fear for your soul."

I made a joke to a friend (who is of the same religious persuasion as my neighbor) that maybe she wants to start a theological discussion, and I should send her a crucifix, a symbol of my religion (although not a Christmas one) in return. She laughed and said, "Oh no! If there is one thing we don't like, it's to be converted."

I don't want this blog to sound like an anti-religion piece — I have no problems with the beliefs of any of my friends and neighbors, whether they be LDS, Lutheran, Jewish, Muslim or athiest. I really enjoy good religious discussions among friends when they come from the right place, one where people are free to share experiences and knowledge without someone viewing their beliefs as good or bad.

But my neighbor and I are just that — we're neighbors. We're not close friends who are sharing deep convictions. If she has a question about my religious beliefs, I would be glad to tell her. If I have a question for her, I would feel comfortable asking. In terms of sharing your religious beliefs to acquaintances, however, I have a better way. This year, I didn't drop off a crucifix. I dropped off cookies.

My advice to those who want to share their faith with others — share what your faith means by showing how people in your faith live. Don't just invite your neighbor to church every time you see her. Instead, make small talk. Be friendly. Do nice things for people. My faith is an important part of my life, but I believe the best way to share it is through my actions. I don't care if people know I am Catholic. I want them to know that I am a good person. I care that people know that I care about others, that I am respectful, and that I love my fellow humans as Christ loves us. That's what really matters.