My Last Sunday Morning

"Bridge" ~ A Sophia Drawing by David Hayward (aka NakedPastor)

Yesterday was my last Sunday morning.
Not on earth (hopefully!). 
In church.

After we left THAT church, we tried several, none of which we could call home:

Too Big. Too small.
Too white. Too rich.
Too clique-y. Too mechanical.
Too liberal. Too conservative.
Too complementarian.
Too Calvinist. Too legalistic.
Too much of a cult of personality.
Too big of fans of Mark Driscoll (this is actually a big problem where we live).

We were exhausted.  My kids are introverts, and they were tired of going into different rooms full of strangers each Sunday.  So were my husband and I. No amount of Starbucks or trips to Krispy Kreme was worth the anxiety that church now created for us.

Once we decided that we would move home in a few months, the decision to take a break from church came easy. We felt good about the decision to use our Sunday mornings for family time with our kids. We anticipated that we would return to our home church when we moved. So we rested. We enjoyed our kids. We went to Disneyland.

Months have passed since we made that decision. For a while I have been curious about the liturgical church denominations. Many people I know have found refuge in them after leaving evangelical Christianity. I wondered if this might be a good fit for me. I was hesitant though. I was raised Catholic and became an evangelical. Would it be too reminiscent of Catholicism for me? Or would it be the perfect blend of the two?

I pushed down all the anxiety I felt about church and decided to give it a shot. Alone. I tried to go with an open mind and heart.

How did it go?

The music was nice and the people were not overbearing (nobody spoke to me at all). The liturgy was okay and I could follow along with the printout. Soon it was time for the sermon, and I tried to listen attentively. Honestly, though, I was bored out of my mind. I felt like I was going to burst. I was anxious, my heart pounded. I wanted to run out of there. I wanted the sermon to be over and had a hard time following the deacon's message. He spoke about the spirit giving us wisdom and discernment, and how we are different than normal people because of it. I get what he was trying to say, but it still bothered me.

"I AM A NORMAL PERSON!!!"  My spirit cried. I am just as confused, broken, lost, and hurting as anyone else. I am not any better, wiser, holier. I do feel the presence of the Spirit. For that I am grateful. But I am just like everyone else.

My anxiety continued to build and I decided I was going to make a break for it. I plotted my escape. As soon as the sermon ended I grabbed my extremely cute seatbelt bag and asked the usher where the restroom was located. As I washed my hands I felt so divided. I knew that I was standing at a crossroads.

I opened the restroom door and looked to my left. It was the way back to the sanctuary. I should go back. I knew what awaited me there.

Comfort. Security. Certainty. Restraints. Elitism. Judgment.

I looked to my right. It was a long hallway, and at the end was a door with a giant green exit sign above it. On the other side of the glass door was a wall. I could not see what was beyond it.

Freedom? Loneliness? Authenticity? A slippery slope? Judgment? Loss?

I took a deep breath, held my head high and turned...to my right. I was aware as I walked down that hallway toward the EXIT sign, that I very well maybe walking away from Sunday morning church for the last time.

I smiled and went to Starbucks.

*****

It's not that this particular church was bad. It really wasn't. I felt prompted to try it. I thought it was because maybe this was a good fit for me. But now I think that God wanted to settle this issue for me. Will I join another team or will I be a free agent? I have lots of amazing Christian friends who are outside of church and since we decided to take our break from church, I have been trying to make peace with this decision.

My relationship with the institutional church has been like an on again off again relationship with a mediocre boyfriend. We have grown apart. I am looking for something more. Something real and deep. I am afraid to be alone. To wait for it. So I go back. And then, we start the cycle all over again.

"It's not you, it's me."

In the past, I have always believed I was to blame. I have believed it is because I can't perform well enough, that my sinful nature is taking over. That I am rebellious and if I would just repent and do better everything will be fine.

This time, though is different.

"It's not you, it's me. Well, actually, that's not true. It's you too. You don't really know me. You criticize me. You are holding me back. You are tying me down. I am not being treated equally. I want to be known, to be loved, supported, given wings. I want deep connection and for all the trivial things not to get in the way. I don't think you can give me that."

I have been leaving institutional church my whole life. Then I try another "team" and try for a couple years to squeeze into that box. I did it in Catholic school, I did it at 25, and I am doing it again now. Maybe, instead of looking at this as "it is not working for me anymore", maybe the truth is that "it has never worked for me".

I love Jesus. I am dependent on the Holy Spirit to guide me. Even when I don't realize it, it is happening and I see it in hindsight. This is enough. And now I actually feel free to begin to shape my life and make choices about how I will live under that guidance.

The idea that we are somehow better, more enlightened, really bothers me. Maybe I am oversensitive the the elitism that is prevalent in Christianity due to some of my experiences. But I have heard this type of thing before, in almost every church I have ever attended, no matter the denomination. I realize that each denomination is a different box I am supposed to fit into and I just don't. A very wise and trusted friend once explained that we pick what feels good to us and find reasons (theology or denominations) to back up our beliefs...And I have been thinking about that a lot. Isn't that what everyone is doing, no matter the denomination or God(s)?

I think the decision to walk away from institutional church is a difficult one to make. I very much love the friends I have from my old church (in another town), and if I was making this decision there it would be even more difficult for me. I don't think it is the right answer for everyone, I think it is personal. Many people have had bad experiences and have been able to find refuge in another church. And when children are involved, it is even more complicated. But for me personally, I feel like all that stuff is just complicating things and taking my focus off of Jesus. It is hard for me to separate God and the things people do in his name (both good and bad). It is distracting and guilt-ridden and not a place where I feel I can be honest about where I am and what I have experienced. I cannot say I will NEVER ever go to church regularly for the rest of my life, but for this season and as far into the future as I can see, I am walking away.

I have considered going, just to go, because we see some benefit in it. I have considered sneaking in for the last set of worship. The conclusion I come to time and again is that it seems like such a waste of time and energy for me. We stress out to get our family of 5 there on time. Then, when I am there, I either feel disconnected or like I have to play a role. I explained that I would get more out of Sunday morning if I went to the beach alone and walked, searched for seaglass and prayed. My husband would get more connection with God from paddleboarding. There are so many more amazing things I could do with that time then spend it somewhere that causes so much anxiety, confusion, and sometimes pain.

What if...
We made burritos every Saturday night and distribute them to the homeless in our community?
We took the money we might give to the church (salaries & operating expenses) and regularly buy diapers for a single mother whose child has cancer?
We met "normal" people and help meet their practical needs (whatever they may be)?

And I wonder...

What would I have done if I was not burden by the man-made doctrines and the guilt and shame? 

Would I have more education? 

Would I have started a non-profit of some kind? 

Would I have impacted people who are really down and out rather than living in my safe little bubble?

Would I have simply enjoyed my life more without feeling driven to perform well as a good Christian?
So how about you? Why do you stay? Why have you left?