Shared Variance.

So I'm at this shindig for the experimental psych master's students last night, hosted by a classmate. We're having a great time. Pumpkin carving, a glass of wine, lots of laughter, and fun, and good food. Perfecto.

And then, my classmate tells me that our academic adviser is very worried about me. "Really? Why?" I ask. "She's just really concerned that you're getting too into James River, and that you'll start to believe and take seriously all of the things they believe. She gets so upset when she talks about you, she's almost in tears."

Now this is a new one to me. Usually, people are not concerned for my being, uh, too Christian.

Fast forward to this morning.

As I mentioned in a post earlier this week, my coworker/classmate had asked if she could come with me to church this week. She made good. I met her at the door to the building. And before we hit the auditorium, I said, "I have to ask you something." "What's up?" I hesitated, "I don't mean this to be weird, but, did Dr. so-and-so put you up to this?" My friend was confused, to which I had to explain my strange encounter of the previous evening. The confusion left, and she said, "Oh yeah...She has been really upset by your checking out church down here. She thinks you're going to become 'one of them.'"

Huh...who else is this being discussed with? And why not me? I'm fairly articulate, I could handle the conversation.

Let's put that to the side for a moment. So I walk with my friend into the auditorium, and I am elated! Finally, someone with me who can share in the experience of how strange this all is. As we walk, she slows, looking around, and mouthing the words "Oh my god..." Yeah. That's a cleaner version of what I thought (see the first ever post on this blog). I walk us down to the third row, center, and introduce her to some of the regulars I've met in that area.

Soon enough, the video announcements start. I had warned her in advance about the clapping thing, but still, she turns to me as everyone gets on their feet, clapping in rhythm with the video music, and says "What did I get myself in to? Can I leave now?" No, the answer is no. I tell her I know it's weird, but trust me, it only gets weirder, so it's best to save your best shock for later.

And then the service is on. I see her shrug, or murmur, laugh, or purse her lips a few times. Other than that, I'm in the dark. Is this good? Is it bad? What's she thinking? She remains quiet during the music, which I understand because I didn't sing the first time I went either. Clearly, there's no arm-waving from either of us. I had warned her ahead of time about the people around us, the under-cover cop, and the altar call. So far, so good. Nothing disastrous. I am silently praying under my breath through the entire sermon, "Be cool. Don't say anything crazy. Please, please be cool."

At the end, I ask her if she wants to just go home, or to go upstairs to check out the Loft, and take a tour. She wants a tour! Ok. Up we go. On the way, I try to get a read on her thoughts. I tell her that I generally agree with about 50% of what is said, and think it's really great, and the other 50% I spend the week debating in my head. She agrees, "I'm really torn. Some of it was definitely right on, but..."

This is an effing watershed. SO much better than I expected. We go upstairs, and talk to this youth pastor and his wife, who tells us of some statistical issues he's having (she and I work together at MSU's RStats institute doing stats consulting). We then go on the tour, which is, admittedly, less than inspired. But the girl was nice.

We talk for awhile in the parking lot. She feels just as I did when I first walked in the building-- How can a church that talks about not playing by worldly wisdom be so worldly in its use of funds, and trendiness? She points out, though, that her previous church didn't do any better. Her assessments and comments are completely fair and thoughtful, which is exactly what I had hoped for. She admits that she did get the sense that the people were really genuinely nice, and that "I have this feeling in my stomach--it's really sick, but also like something is really right."

I am, during this discussion, and during its continuance over lunch at Braum's, attempting to be very fair, and to appear not to be pushing James River. Though, I'm not gonna lie, it would be so awesome to have someone around who understands my praise AND my reservations. Mostly, I am ecstatic that I got to share the experience with someone. Finally, someone to talk to for whom the crazier aspects of JRA are not totally old hat!

We part ways, having decided that I should figure out how to email the youth pastor to tell him that we'd love to help him out on a volunteer basis with his stats issues. We both had a good laugh over the fact that if we needed additional help on more sophisticated points of analysis, we'd have to find some clandestine way of asking questions of our very atheist, very anti-JRA adviser.

Which brings me full circle to Dr. So-and-so.

Apparently, as concerned as my Christian friends are for the state of my soul, so is my academic adviser. What to make of that? What to do about it?