“Καλημερα! Καλημερα, Τρισια!” I heard behind me as I turned right in front of the 1896 Olympic Stadium. I turned around. Nir held his arms open. “Like my jacket?” he asked. “My parents bought it for me.”
We discussed our weekends, and he asked about how church works. He asked about Christmas and Easter, and I asked about Yom Kippur and Purim. He said he wasn’t religious, but was I? “Yes,” I said, grimacing. I’ve thought about this before, how much I hate to tell new people that Christianity is a big deal to me. Romans 1:16 runs through my head like an accusation, but I’ve decided that I’m not ashamed of the gospel…I’m ashamed of a lot of the people who go around talking about it.
“What does it mean for you? To be religious or not religious?” Nir asked. Continue reading







