Test of faith

Dan Boone, 43
Harvey-Dixmoor, Christian

You’re the head coach at a Christian boxing club. Is Christianity part of the training?
Yeah, we just talk for ten minutes about Christ and what He wants to do in [the boxers’] lives. And we let them know what’s going on in the streets, so we bring Christ to their level and let ’em know He loves you right where you’re at. If you’re still taking little things out of the store, if you’re not respecting your mother, we talk about that.

How did you come to find God?
He found me; I was not looking for Him. That’s why I wonder about all these people in the missions. They’re going overseas and I was right here. I worked with a man at a steel mill. I had a Bible and he said, “Have you ever read that thing?” And I told him, “No, I just see everybody waving it.”

What do you think happens after you die?
I actually believe that you go to heaven if you believe in Christ and you do what He says. And that’s where a lot of people mess up. They just think, Okay, I accepted Christ; I’m on my deathbed, I’ll go to heaven.

Do you believe in evolution?
We didn’t come from monkeys. Common sense.

What do you like best about your religion?
We laugh at ourselves. During our New Year’s Eve party, the pastor and the elders all dressed up in leotards and tutus and they came out on the stage doing a praise and worship dance. Our pastor is 70-something, and the executive director is about 260 pounds and he’s short, and that don’t look good in a leotard.

Chris Schneider, 37
North Center, atheist

When was the last time you attended religious services?
I was nine, and I went to a wedding at a Catholic church. It was fine, I didn’t have any real reaction to it. I was bored, mostly.

What’s the hardest thing to explain to people about being an atheist?
Few people truly believe me. It’s hard for them to take atheism seriously, but it’s what I was born into. I didn’t just fall into it; I think about it all the time. The second-hardest thing is that everyone thinks I’m some sort of devil worshipper.

What would you do if your son found religion?
Well, I’m not going to disown him. [Laughs] I don’t know. I’m going to teach him about it; he’s not going to be immune to it. If he wants to attend church with his friends when he’s five, that’s fine.

What do you think happens after you die?
Your consciousness ends, and you go away forever. [Pause] Yeah, it’s hard to think about that. I think that’s what drives faith—these kinds of scary thoughts.

Photo: Nolan Wells

Felicia Schneiderhan, 33
River City Marina, Catholic

Are you more or less involved in your religion than your parents were?
I’m more active, doing things like going on a mission trip to Haiti. I was in this little bitty pharmacy, counting vitamins. And it was humbling work, you know? But it was also, I think, God’s work, to go to a place where you can provide services for people who don’t have the very basics of health care.

What about your faith is hardest to explain to people outside of your faith?
I don’t have a hard time explaining Catholicism to people outside my faith, but I do have a hard time explaining it to lapsed Catholics. I left, too, for a while. The hypocrisy and abuse scandals and misuse of power and the disconnect between the leaders of the Church and the people in the Church—I just wanted nothing to do with it.

Mulogo, 29
Rogers Park, Pagan/Wiccan

What is Paganism?
It’s a very broad term, but one commonality is that we all have reverence for our ancestors. They’re a big part of our lives, and paying attention to that, trying to talk to spirits and the dead, helps to take everything as a whole, not just what we do in this life.

What do you like best and least about your religion?
What I like best and what I like least is actually the same thing. It’s the independence that Paganism has. Because there is no traditional priest figure, people are responsible for their own spiritual lives. There’s a lot of freedom in that, and that’s what I like best. What I like least is that it’s harder to find advice or spiritual guidance, and there’s less legally recognized Pagan clergy. It’s harder for a Pagan couple that wants to get married to find a Wiccan priestess than it is for, say, a Catholic couple to find a church.

Ibrahim Mansuri, 64
Hinsdale, Muslim

What’s your religion?
I’m Muslim, but I don’t follow it one hundred percent. I was born a Muslim in a Hindu environment [in Gujarat, India]. You’re supposed to pray five times a day; at least once a day I pray. And if you are able, you’re supposed to go to Mecca, which I’m planning to do this year.

When are you going?
My wife and me, we both are planning to go on December 10 for at least two weeks as part of a group. We will be going to a city called Medina, which is one of the holiest places, and then from there we’ll go to Mecca.

What will you do there?
You go to certain mosques. For a few days you stay in the desert, in tents. That’s how the prophets did it.

Susan Dvojack, 42
Bridgeport, Catholic

How often do you attend church and where?
About six times a year. I was raised Catholic, but I also go to Willow Creek [the Christian mega-church in South Barrington].

That’s a big shift. What drew you to Willow Creek?
It isn’t really that big a shift to me. I like Willow Creek’s guitar mass and hymns. Their pomp and circumstance is way more accessible than the rigid celebrations in Catholicism. Everything with the Catholics is magnified yet subdued, from celebrating faith to worship, to sinning. I remember, growing up, I desperately wanted to go to Catholic school because when we sneaked out to smoke under the bleachers in public school, it was just smoking. In Catholic school, it was a big deal. You were breaking something major.

Were you attracted to the “forbidden fruit” aspect of Catholicism?
Oh, there’s a specific “pleasure from pain” aspect there. There’s something about being naughty in Catholicism that makes everything you do in life more delicious.