My favorite atheist

There are a number of things I could write about in this last sliver of time before final papers and exams become my sole focus for the next week and a half. Most obviously, there's the winter weather that kicked in at the very start of December. There are also the NFC North Division Champion Green Bay Packers and 2007 Sports Illustrated Sportsman of the Year Brett Favre. And there's my unfortunately timed decision to cut off any caffeine consumption. But, setting aside all that, I think it's about time that I finally give some respect to Adam.

Adam is one of those friends that every human being hopes to have one day. Someone who supports you in everything you do. Someone who you know, without a doubt, will be your friend for the rest of your life. Someone who sends you mix CDs of cutting-edge music in the mail every few months. That's Adam. (It's also true of my wife, Tracy, except she doesn't send me mix CDs.)

Adam was one of the first people I met at the University of Wisconsin Green-Bay. We really got to know each other while working on the campus newspaper, the Fourth Estate. In my junior year, when I became the editor in chief, he agreed to be the humor page editor. On our first day as a staff, Adam burst in, yelling, "Stop the Presses!" His excitement about the newspaper soon spread beyond his fantastically funny page, and whenever I needed help with something, Adam would step in. He soon became managing editor, my "Deputy Dog," and things worked like clockwork. Fun clockwork. Meantime, I met Tracy, and Adam became a great friend to both of us.

A couple years later, when I was working at the Green Bay Press-Gazette, Adam made one of his most classic unexpected appearances. I was hosting an advertised "meet the reporter" coffee hour in my hometown area, and Adam suddenly showed up. I had been a bit anxious about the event, but Adam's sudden presence gave me all the confidence in the world. Later that morning, I mentioned to him that the Press-Gazette had an opening for a copy editor. Happily returning the favor of his support, I made a strong case for him with the bosses, who, to my delight, gave him the job. It was great to have him as a co-worker again. Soon after, he was also a groomsman at my wedding, for which he meanwhile created a party-favor newspaper that was a roaring success.

Not quite a year into our revived journalistic heyday, I suddenly knew I would have to cut it short. I had decided to attend seminary and pursue ordained ministry ... which made for an interesting situation because, as I had realized at some point, Adam didn't believe in God. I was a little nervous about breaking the news to him, but Adam, although a little surprised, was immediately supportive.

And he has been ever since. In October of last year, Adam visited me at Luther Seminary. His visit happened to coincide with a deadline day for the Concord, the seminary's student-run journal, and Adam—once again arriving with a shout of "Stop the presses!"—lent me a bit of his page-design talents one more time (if you look closely at the November 2006 issue, you can find a small attribution for his graphical handiwork).

Meanwhile, in the aftermath of some criticism I received from an apparent agnostic or atheistic respondent to one of my blog entries, Adam agreed to e-mail me an explanation for his self-described atheism. That honest explanation—including a sensible expression of concern about what religion has failed to do for the good of humankind—and the opportunity to respond to it remain one of the most important learning experiences of my time at seminary. I have referred to that conversation repeatedly in my seminary classes, and I think I actually might have mentioned Adam more times in my endorsement essay than I mentioned my dad, my pastor.

A year ago, just when I was starting to worry that I had offended Adam with my rebuttal, I got a birthday/Christmas gift from him in the mail. It was popular singer/songwriter Sufjan Stevens' magnificent CD collection, "Songs for Christmas," which includes many Christmas hymns and several great Christian hymns that don't even have Christmas themes. It was a wonderful gift and yet just another example of Adam's surprising and unwavering support.

Within the last several months, Adam's support at important times has been especially meaningful for me. He was visiting again on that weekend in September when my Grandpa Don nearly died. Adam was sitting at the kitchen table with me when my dad called to tell me the news, and he continued to sit with me as I prayed for my family. Last month, in our continued e-mail correspondence, Adam insisted on not only listening to the collection of songs I wrote for my class on the book of Acts but also coming to see me preach at my home church in Green Bay on Thanksgiving Eve. And sure enough, a few minutes into the service, just as I was starting to worry that he maybe decided against attending, there he was to cheer me on again. (Thankfully, this time, he didn't come in yelling, "Stop the presses!")

I have to admit that Adam's confidence that there is no God frustrates me sometimes, even though he doesn't express it blatantly. It often makes me question what I believe, and it makes me consider from his perspective so much of what I learn in seminary. But I think that's a good thing. There are a lot of good people like him in the world who have found reasons to seriously doubt these things that I now take so seriously, and I need to be able to minister to them, too. Honestly, I hope something changes Adam's mind someday. I'd like him to know the peace, hope and confidence to serve that the gospel has given me. And I keep holding out hope—especially since, in his remarkable lack-of-faith statement, Adam repeatedly spelled "atheist" wrong. At any rate, I hope he never changes who he is.

I don't know where Adam will show up next. He left the Press-Gazette recently (though he continues to write brilliantly for the newspaper's TV blog), and I'm really hoping he gets a job somewhere around here in Minnesota. Wherever he ends up, I know he'll be one of my very best friends and one of the most important people in my life for a long, long time.

So figure that out: Among the blessings for which I am most thankful to God is a certain self-described athiest. Er, atheist. ... Well, I'll just keep calling him Adam.