When I first got to college, I really struggled to make friends. 

In retrospect it makes sense. I was a closeted gay man who didn’t understand his sexuality and didn’t know what he wanted in life yet, so I didn’t have a grasp on what types of organizations I wanted to join, or what types of people I wanted to be friends with. 

A couple months into my freshman year, I ended up joining a Christian group on campus because my parents thought it would be a good idea. I never considered myself to be a religious person (I did get baptized and did go to Sunday School and communion classes growing up), but I was desperately looking for some community, and a petty part of me knew that I wouldn’t enjoy it and just wanted to show my parents that they didn’t know what they were talking about. 

I was pretty open about me not really believing in God, and the group was okay with that and felt thankful that I took a chance on them. The people who ran the group were very nice, and I did make some friends who ended up pursuing the same major as me, but I didn’t end up staying in the group for more than a couple weeks. I knew right off the bat at our first meeting that it didn’t make sense for me to stay in the group.

When we met at our group leader’s dorm for our first bible study meeting, I, to be completely honest, disassociated for most if it because all I really cared about was eating the free pizza that they were going to give us after. But the end of the meeting is something I remember even until this day.

Our group leader asked us to close our eyes for the final prayer. He started off with some generic “thank you Lord for this opportunity” speech, and at the end of the prayer, asked us to open our hands if anyone felt the power of the Holy Spirit, wanted to open themselves up to God, and take the next step in their spiritual journey. I felt like he was talking to me, but I didn’t open my hands because I didn’t feel anything and I didn’t feel like lying to people I had just met. 

He then asked again. This time, I knew he was talking to me for sure, since I knew I was the only one in the group who didn’t go to church or talked about believing in God, but I still didn’t feel like opening up my hands because I just didn’t feel anything. I didn’t feel the power of the Holy Spirit. I didn’t feel God telling me to embrace his love. I felt absolutely nothing.

Then he asked for a third time. At that point, I got a little annoyed because I was hungry, so I just opened my hands so we could end this prayer and get to the damn pizza. Everyone said “Amen” to end the prayer and opened their eyes. 

The group leader had tears in his eyes, came over to me to give me a big hug, and told me that he was so proud of the “progress” that I had made today. I remember thinking in my head, “Uh, thank you, but I’m hungry so where’s the pizza?” It was a weird situation. Here I was, a hungry freshman with the sole goal of eating free pizza, surrounded by people who felt that they had just witnessed someone make their first great stride in their personal spiritual journey. 

I wonder what I was supposed to feel, or rather, what other people expected me to feel in that moment? Do people actually feel “moved” by the Holy Spirit when they are in an environment like that, or are they like me, and do they feel compelled to do something because they think it’s what the other people want? Why did a senior in college feel like they were knowledgeable enough to lead freshman spiritually?

I still think about that meeting today. I wonder how many people in that group still go to church.