I am not a pretty lady.

As my mugshot will confirm, I am rarely approached by people who hope to exchange phone numbers and hang out at a later date. “Rarely” is being generous. I have had so few propositions that, to this day, I am baffled by the flattery and sympathy of turning a stranger down.

During my first semester at NIU, a smiling 20-something girl leading a smiling 20-something guy stopped me outside Founders Memorial Library to introduce themselves. After cordial handshakes, the former asked me if I was an acting major because I looked like an actor; and, while I wondered if she meant a famous actor and worried she meant Topher Grace, the latter told me about their Bible study. I paused, touched by their offer of friendship and (presumably) the kingdom of heaven, and realized how much we had in common: age, socio-economic background, an earnest belief in the importance of kindness. After wasting fifteen of their minutes throwing down psalms, I finally said, “I’m flattered, but I really don’t see this working out.”

“Well, I grew up Catholic,” I told another missionary with another Bible study in the Holmes Student Center last fall, feeling I owed him an explanation.

It’s not you: It’s me. You see, I said Hail Marys and ate unleavened wafers until my teens, but Agnosticism didn’t have as much homophobia or antithetical castles as Catholicism. So, I’m kind of seeing someone right now. But my honesty, while polite, didn’t work. He persevered, citing Catholic sex-abuse scandals as no reason to leave Christianity entirely. We talked about molestation for a while before things got weird.

I’m probably neurotic, but I can’t help but feel profound sympathy for the man or woman who tries to share his or her faith, and I mean no condescension. To someone for whom heaven and hell are a reality, the stakes of the conversation are immense. Souls are saved or damned to hell based on words. I feel so grateful for the attempt. I feel so sorry that it fails.

Is it better to be so polite that I lead missionaries on, like the time I got walked to class by an enthusiastic exchange student with nontraditional views on the transubstantiation, or is it for the greater good to just ignore them and like John Lithgow shout, “Can’t you see I don’t want you anymore?”

I asked Chasity Dillman, a staff member at Cru (formerly Campus Crusade for Christ), a less ridiculous version of the above question, and she said I might be overthinking this.

“I don’t feel that would be a waste of time, and I’m not too easily offended, just to calm your fears,” Dillman said.

I also asked Jeff Lamble, senior public health major and president at Grace Place Campus Ministries, 401 Normal Road. He suggested I might be approaching the issue a little too simplistically.

“Why wouldn’t you be open so you can explore other perspectives, other walks of life?” Lamble said. “We’re firm in our beliefs, we’d like you to understand our beliefs, but if those aren’t your beliefs, we’ll learn about yours.”