Do not think that I have come to bring peace on earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. - Matthew 10:34

Perhaps I smell religious; in any case, people whom I've met very recently often start talking to me about Catholicism. I try to answer their questions as best I can, but often the whole conversation leaves me sick at heart. Most of the time they trot out a quasi-history of the Church (y'know, where Galileo and crusaders and anti-popes and pedophile priests dance a debased cosmic ballet on the backs of oppressed medieval peasants), and contrast that with their (selective) memory of the teachings of Christ. I endeavour to correct them, but really, they've already made up their minds. My faith has boundaries, rituals, hierarchies, and absolute truths, while they believe that faith should be indefinite, non-doctrinal, eminently personal, and free of external ritual. In most cases, I accomplish nothing more than give them more anecdotal evidence of the rigidity of organizedreligionizers. I am completely incapable of touching them or moving them in any way towards the truth. So why does God keep sending these people to waylay me? Surely there are more articulate, more attractive representatives of the Church. I'm hardly the ideal spokesmodel of holiness. I'm just as likely to retreat to my hovel, crack open a beer, and mutter "Fuck y'all, all y'all." as I am to pray for the redemption of their souls. Well, I pray too. After a beer. Still. What's an incompetent apologist to do?