A Church Visit

This past Sunday, I attended my first physical church service in over two years after becoming estranged from our church home in the summer of 2020.  I remember sitting in the church parking lot, looking at the building and grounds from my van, marveling that this very familiar place would necessarily now become unfamilar again. We look with closer eyes in the beginning and end of things.

To clarify, I'm not a nominal Christian. All of the churches we've called home through the years matter deeply to me, which is why they became our homes in the first place and why we left each when we did. Each church marks a season and chapter in our lives and growth. I'm not a "church hopper"--way too methodical and committed for that.  But, I am a church nomad, sojourner of sorts. 

If my relationship with the church was a marriage, I'd be the person who had multiple marriages with the best intentions, but each marriage ending with a painful divorce.  At some point, the divorcee has got to wonder: Is it me? Am I the problem? Am I just not cut out for marriage?  Can I go through this all yet again in hope of finding the relationship I long for or are my expectations unrealistic?

Leaving a congregation is a weird uncomfortable thing. The decision is jarring and opens the doors for discouragement, disillusionment, and discombulation.  As a consistent church attender, it feels wrong to not be there on Sunday, rebellious. Such a choice also creates dissonance within--why did I choose to spend so many years there and invest so much of myself there?  I know that God sees it all and ordains it all, yet it always feels like I am abandoning the body and that somehow I have been less the follower than I should have been.

I've never articulated my full journey with the Church. To do so would  exhaust me, but it may be helpful for me to think through our relationship with each church piece-by-piece. Maybe it would help me gain perspective in a way that might help me not repeat mistakes. Was my membership at each church a mistake? I would categorically assert that no, none of the time I spent at each church was a mistake.  Yet it feels that way.  It feels like my expectations are too high, or that I don't seek my own faults in the relationship clearly, that someone must be wrong. God must find value and purpose in me struggling with these things and questions, but as my kids say "it's not my favorite."

Well, how did it feel to be back in a church service again?  It felt warm and familiar, yet not. I quickly recalled how uncomfortable is is to be "new" and not know the basics--where do I park, how do I get into the building, what will the service consist of, will I blend in or stick out? You have to be ready to have polite answers and a friendly face for anyone who may engage you.

In some ways visiting is refreshing after years of the same old same old congregation, building, and order of service. The visit comes with a sense of hope and potential, fresh eyes and new faces. But additionally, there is a sense of voyerism about the experience.  I am back in my van, so to speak, on the outside looking in.  Do I want "in"?  What would that be like?  Are the people I observe and meet friendly in authentic ways? Do they talk with each other and listen?

A heavily involved woman of the congregation came over and introduce herself to me. I already knew who she was because I've followed this congregation for awhile now online.  So now there is this weird sense that I have to pretend that I know less than I do.  She was great--friendly but not overly nosy, gave me some good general information that helped me know what to expect and offered connection points to consider. We talked polite surface things for a few minutes and then I was content to be alone again amid the gathering.

What did I already know about this church?  The pastor of this congregation was called out to start this church during Covid. This is part of what drew me to visit this church. I'd describe them as considerate and loving of others, respectful of Covid, traumatised by some of their prior experiences with congregations, liberal ideologically, open to His Spirit, well-intending as best as I can tell.  And as much as I don't want to be viewed as "broken or flawed," by the Church, intuitively, I find myself on guard because I know they carry some of the same wounds. Maybe we are all "the problem" after all. 

What am I hoping to find?  Community.  A place where I can seek God alongside others yet not be frustrated by cold hearts, selfish hearts, indifferent hearts, power structures that have an "us vs. them" mentality which I find rampant in both clergy and congregants.  How did we end up suspicious of each other, blaming each other, pointing fingers, misunderstanding? 

I am looking for a home where I can seek Christ, worship Christ, ask real questions and be heard. I also want friendships with Christians who long for the same.  I want to share my giftings and be enriched by other's giftings.  I want to have a Christian family that I can "do life" with. 

I am not naive or inexperienced. I do not expect a "perfect church," but I do expect one that values reading the scriptures, loving everyone, and one that desires deeper relationships with Christ and with each other.  I hope to avoid too many doctrines or practices that I know I can't get behind and must overlook. I've come more recently to the conviction that the Church spends too much time invested in their power structures and exclusions of women from particular roles and LGBTQ folks from all roles.

What should be the purpose of a congregation? Is it a structure that serves the larger community or the body? Is it a group of people that come together to sing about God and learn about salvation, morality, the Bible, tips for loving each other better?  Is it a place to give a good start to our children? How do we remember Jesus better through breaking bread every week?  Should the scriptures, bread, and congregational readings be the backbone of each service instead of anything the clergy might sermonize?  Is there any way to not go through motions, or do the motions have worth? What did Jesus speak against within the Jewish faith and how much of that should be applied to the Christian faith as well? What did Paul envision? What is God's ideal? Why does he continually allow us to make such a muck of things? Visiting a church stirs up and energizes these complicated questions. And at the end of the day, I don't know if I am making any progress in my understanding or chasing my tail. I do know it requires a certain piece of me.

My larger take aways from this church visit?  

It felt really good to be among other people who believe in Jesus and seek to follow him. 

I loved singing songs and experiencing the generally familiar rhythms of a church service.  

I found the congregation friendly with each other and friendly enough with me.  

I'm not sure if I will go back.  Not because of anything in them, but because of me.  I have church PTSD, a familiar malady I've experienced at other painful times in my faith journey.  I feel too vulnerable and cynical to engage beyond attending a weekly service.  Even that feels like a lot to process afterwards. 

And if I go back, inevitably, more people will politely engage me bit-by-bit.  I will feel more pressure to step in and give back. Next thing I'll know a decade will have passed, and I'll find myself wondering one day if I ever knew any of them very well at all. If I knew myself?  If it is me again, the problem.

As much as I want to belong to a local Christian body again, to feel "back in the fold," I'm not ready. It would be easier to check the box, warm the pew, and leave the questions behind, but it's not where I'm at. It's not an easy place to linger, but it feels real.