Clarisse sipped on her cup of hot tea and contemplated what to say to Roger. How could she explain her position on Christianity to this man who was such a wholehearted Jew? Their relationship was doomed. How would he ever understand that for her, her belief in Jesus did not in any way impinge on his non-belief in Jesus. That her faith was private and inclusive and that she could only hope that his was the same.
Clarisse had met Roger after her husband of fifteen years left her for a 22 year old. Left her with apologetic eyes, as if he knew that his choice was absurd, but that he just couldn’t keep himself from acting on such whimsy. As for Clarisse, this was the final in a series of deceptions and disappointments, so after a brief period of mourning over the divorce, she was ready to get on with her life. That’s when she met Roger, a mild-mannered man of 40 – she was 36 – who was not nearly as handsome as her ex-husband, but who was also not nearly as prone to drama. Roger was an accountant with an MBA and he worked every day in an office in a tall building in downtown LA, with other accountants for whom business casual was as natural as putting on sweatpants and tee shirts to go to the gym, which he did everyday precisely at 5:30, right after work. The only problem with Roger was that he was a Jew, reform, but devout, nonetheless, and Clarisse was a devout Christian, a Lutheran, to be exact.
The first few times they went out, first for coffee, then for dinner, then for dinner and a movie, the “religion” question hovered off to the side, ever-present, but not making its noisy whine heard over the surge of positive emotions that flowed like ocean waves throughout their conversation. They liked many of the same food, movies, and books, and even political candidates – a huge relief – and, on top of that, they were both seriously looking for a real life partner, not one that would glide away with the gentlest of nudges. Roger had never been married, but had been in a long-term relationship with a woman who simply drifted off into her own interests, which included other women, before he actually registered what was happening. He awoke one morning to find that she was gone. A note on the dining table informed him that her life “had taken a different turn,” and she needed to see “where this new direction would take her.” Roger had been devastated, given that he had been planning to ask her to marry him right after Yom Kippur. Three years passed and he’d reluctantly agreed to go to a party thrown by a work friend, only to discover Clarisse sitting in a corner, looking rather awkward. Since she looked like he felt, he immediately struck up a conversation, and now here they were.
Clarisse rummaged through her desk drawer trying to find an article she’d brought home from church a few weeks before. It was entitled “Walking into the Difference: A Theology of Enabling Interfaith Understanding” by Lucinda Mosher and it encouraged dialogue between people of different faiths. “To love our neighbors as ourselves,” was the basis for much of what Mosher had to say, and those “neighbors” were people from diverse religious beliefs and doctrines. Was this article something Clarisse could show to Roger to bring up the religion topic? Should she leave it on the coffee table that evening when he was due to come over? Was she too chicken to simply say, “So, you’re Jewish and I’m Christian. How do we make this work?” She decided on the direct approach.
That night, over dessert – homemade chocolate cake with vanilla butter cream frosting – Clarisse popped the question. “What do we do about this religious difference?” she asked. “I think we need to discuss this before we get any more involved.”
Roger, taking the last bite of cake, said, “What if we just agree to respect each other’s beliefs?”
Clarisse looked surprised. “You mean it could be that easy?”
“We can make it that easy.”
“But what if we get really serious and decide to get married? What about then? The marriage, our children…”
“Can’t people share each other’s religion? One week at temple, the next in church?”
“You’d be willing to do that?”
“As long as you were there,” Roger said, reaching over and taking Clarisse’s hand.
She smiled. “I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that.”
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