This week while probing the virtual world for all signs of Christianity today, something I had not previously found myself google-searching for, I stumbled upon “Hipster Christianity” and a requisite multiple choice test. After checking behind me about four times to make sure no one, dogs included, could see me typing, I took the test and found out…I am a fundamentalist, tied to tradition with little to no hipster in me.
Not that I thought, or would have considered myself hipster, per say, nor did I think that 10 questions would get to the root of my existential essence when 30+ years has only managed to scratch the surface, but still. Fundamentalist traditionalist is not what I thought the hipster answer magician would pop out.
I went back to review some of the questions and some of my answers and I began to see many of the faulty bits. One primary issue was, when asked if I would align with my parents on issues of faith, I said I would, on pretty much every count. Apparently, this is a cardinal sin in hipster-ville.
I knew all those long probing conversations with my mother in pre-teens, and the years spent immersed in John Denver and Peter, Paul & Mary lyrics, would one day get their revenge on me!
Alas, I find that, tattoos aside, I am still and always will be, the un-hip, book-wormy child of folksy, quasi-liberal, missional, Catholic parents. And, to my own great surprise, when life and faith came full circle I found us standing nearly side-by-side again, not at another John Denver concert (may he rest in peace), but in faith dialogues.
And in the end that is where I happily sit. Maybe a bit hyper, but no hipper, at 30+1.