Church People: Back to Church

Many of my friends know I have big feelings about Jesus' church--so big that I've been working on a book about church people, brilliantly titled "Church People," for the last three years. (Okay, I took a hiatus in 2020 when I pretty much questioned my entire belief system, but I'm back.)

Instead of opening my writing software and staring at hundreds of pages of book while my eyes glaze over until I hit "x" and play Minecraft, I'm channeling my thoughts into blog posts until I'm ready to take on the project again. I have too many other "projects" going on. But I must write!

Last Week

I posted this on Facebook last week:

Attended church service today for the first time in over a year. It was rewarding, exhausting, annoying, and encouraging. I saw people I have come to see differently over the last year and people who have come to see me differently, and have struggled to reconcile their actions and words with the Jesus they say they follow. I saw people I have wronged and people who have wronged me, and people I don't like very much and people who don't like me very much.

I cried inside my mask with joy and hugged a friend till I thought I would break her, while grieving that others didn't seem to recognize me in a mask. I thought, "I can't wait to come back next week!" and "it was sure nice staying home for a year. Let's do that again."

Church is messy because I am messy and people are messy. It's a really good thing it's not about the service, preaching, music, or about whether I like the people or they like me, or I feel comfortable or fed. It's a movement of God's people who happen to live locally and have decided to gather weekly to solidify the "together even if we don't like each other" thing before we leave the building and live the real reason we're on earth: to glorify God to the world.

Inside the church, outside the church--it is not about me.

That's what I posted after service. If it's not complainy, maybe it sounds real or raw? Perhaps even super spiritual?

But here's what I confided to my husband just before the service.

"I don't know if I want to come back. I didn't know if I wanted to stay here even before Covid. I felt unheard. Plus, MS took away all the ministries that brought me so much joy. And I have said so many stupid things and displayed so much immaturity and ego. I just want to start over where no one knows me and try again."

Now THAT'S super spiritual, right? If I knew how to do emojis on this platform I would do an eye roll and a laughing face with tears coming down.

Photo by John Price on Unsplash

This Week

I "tackled" church again today with a better plan. This time, we wouldn't forget my walker. This time, we would be careful to avoid the music time because of my snowflake nervous system that interprets sound as OMG PAIN FREAKOUT. I would remember that, according to my own declaration from the week before, we gathered because of Jesus and not because of, you know, me.

It WAS better, yes! I had pain, but it was better. I was both discouraged and encouraged. I saw folks I wanted to chase down, and other folks chased ME down! I wanted to write a book on the sermon.

And you know what? Even if it wasn't better, it isn't about my experience.

Possibly Tomorrow If I Feel Like It

This post is already getting long, so I'll sign off for now.

Fair warning: I wrote an outline for a post about why I go to church even though there seem to be a lot of reasons not to. I expect arguments. Please don't disappoint me.