At the beginning, sometimes on Sunday she’d go to church with him, but after a while he didn’t feel like driving all the way uptown to where his church was, or he wasn’t in the mood, and she started hearing less about it, the church, or Jesus, or anything much at all about his faith, not that she ever heard a lot about it, thankfully. They did have conversations about their spiritual lives, but they didn’t argue about it because they didn’t argue about anything ever. One day, frustrated with some inconsistencies in his religion, she put forth some of her low-key ideas about god, something to the effect of Whatever it is it isn’t me, and he said I think I like your faith better than mine this week. For some time after this, he said little more about the subject, and then one day about a year into the marriage, some fundamentalist right-winger said something on TV that he didn’t like, and he got pissed and said I renounce Jesus!
He meant to be funny, but he meant it. What led him to Christianity in the first place had been something like an offer of clarity, which slowly seemed to emerge for him outside of that institution. Some years later he’d say he didn’t believe in god at all.