I have a complicated relationship with religion, specifically Christianity. Raised as a devout Catholic, I shed my belief in any kind of theism over the past decade, but the fetters that bind me to the world of Christianity cannot be slipped so easily. One of the many, many strands that entangle me still is rooted in my family’s continued, and in fact increased, religious fervency. Most confounding of all, to me, and the subject of a lot of personal angst, is the incongruity between the personal beliefs my home life instilled in me and those beliefs imparted by the church that results when each set of beliefs is developed to its logical conclusion. It is clear to me now, as a matured person who has had time to look around at the world and make some assessments, that goodness, justice, and love are not the children of religion, as many religious people would have you believe, and in fact that the opposite is true. Without getting into all my specific grievances with religion and the religious up front, I will begin with my questions. I have these questions, specifically for my mother, because I would like more than anything to be able to comprehend what is in her mind. How is she able to hold fast to religious teachings that undermine the vision of a just and loving world that she herself taught me to hope for? Though I cannot, or as yet will not, confront her with these questions, I hope that I can learn something by unpacking them here.