A couple months ago, Steve and I started to go to church. I've wrestled with this for a long time because I'm not fond of how the term "Christian" has been hijacked over the last decade or so by people who say one thing but behave in apparent contradiction to their voicemail messages advising me to have "a blessed day" or the Ichthys symbol prominently displayed on the back of their minivan. There's an arrogance about some of these people that has led me to snidely call them "Super Christians" behind their back. They are quick to remind you of where they'll be spending eternity, even when they're in the process of screwing someone out of a large sum of money or gossiping maliciously about people in the office. One of my best friends who is a secular Hindu remarks that she feels bad for "poor Jesus" when she sees people behave so horribly in His name.
As a child, my parents forced my sisters and me to go to the very formal Presbyterian church in town. While I don't fault them for doing what they believed was right, it always felt more like a social obligation than a function of worship. There was a lot about that church that I didn't like, but my sister came up with a nickname for it that probably summed up my scorn pretty well-"Our Lady of the Philandering Ministers." For years, I harbored a great deal of resentment to the leaders of that church and what their behaviors wrought. Ironically, I named my oldest son for the soft spoken Irish minister who came in and tried to mend the broken church, but who was ridiculed by the stalwarts of the congregation for reasons I never understood. The man's quiet grace made an enormous impression on my 16 or 17 year old self.
When I married my first husband, it was in the Catholic Church. We sporadically attended over the years and while I had always admired the pageantry of the papists, I never got the hang of all the kneeling, sitting, standing, and could never remember all the different prayers that Tony knew by rote. Additionally, I despised the subservient role that women played in the church, in spite of their obvious reverence for Mary-again with the blatant contradictions. I definitely couldn't get behind their archaic views on birth control. My children are all baptized Catholics, but I doubt they've set foot in a Catholic Church in the last nine years.
I am not requiring my kids to go with us to church at this point. I don't know yet whether this is right or wrong, but I'm not going to force them as my parents forced me-even though the church we've chosen to attend is nothing at all like the one of my youth. I want them to come to church on their terms, not treat it as a dreaded chore. I'm still new to this myself. I will say this though, I enjoy going to this church-it's not a chore to attend and the kids that I see there appear to be enjoying themselves and not dragged their by parents.
One of the biggest differences I notice with this church in comparing it to others I've attended is a real commitment to help others. Again-it's been a LONG time since I regularly attended, and I'm sure that most churches are like this nowadays, but it's not like the Sunday School I remember. There is an energy and enthusiasm to help feed the hungry and give a hand to single mothers, and none of the Kool-Aid drinking that I feared would greet me at the door. Best of all, there is none of the snobbery and arrogance that I always associated with Sunday service attendance.
I don't know where this journey will take me. I'm glad that for at least a few hours on Sunday mornings, the focus is off me and all my problems and I can take a look around and see people making a difference in the lives of others. If I get nothing else out of it other than that and an opportunity to give back to my community, then I'll be content.
