Me and the Church

[cross posted on Facebook notes]

I wrote this back on March 9th and then talked myself out of posting it. I've changed my mind again. There's another, almost flip side to this mental theological conversation I'm having with myself... maybe I'll get around to fleshing that out later today... (4/22/09)

Recently, it seems more than just a couple of people have asked me about my current feelings, opinions, connections with the church, or a church. If you've been tagged, this is not directed at any of you... just felt like including you because in some way or another you've helped keep me grounded.

Simply put, I am not connected with a church. I haven't been for nearly three full years now.

This makes far too many of you cringe, or feel sorry for me, or urge me to find one. You all mean well. But I'm at a stage in life where I take direction from others very reluctantly resistantly, even if only a kindly suggestion. This is a residual effect of all that went horribly wrong. [Some of my colleagues from LSTC, I still do not think you realize how completely shattered I felt as an individual when I cut and ran. Some of you do.] As is my inability to be confident, convicted, or motivated for grad school. *Shakes head.* I don't trust myself anymore. Don't trust my instincts, my sense of call. I'm rotating off my axis.

Reasons I'm not part of a church are rather complex. I still know who I think God to be, am still convicted in the same beliefs and relationship I always have. Which may be part of the problem. Before I even got to seminary I was leary that perhaps I was too liberal, too questioning of the church's theology to be a pastor -- I will not speak the center line of the Lutheran Confessions if I am not convinced of something just to move on to the next step. Part of my disillusionment with the process is that they taught you what to say, clarified exactly what was expected -- and I got the distinct impression that no matter what you truly believed, you could become a pastor if you told your candidacy committee and the seminary what they wanted -- what they taught you -- to hear. My theological probing does not always gel with what comes from the liturgy or the pulpit and I, at times, have difficulty listening to something with which I disagree and then having to discuss with parishioners about how "lovely" or wonderful the sermon was. My theological dissent has gotten me in "trouble" more times than not, because I still have trouble keeping my mouth shut when asked a question. But I digress. Other than that, I will keep the specificites of my "doubts" and opinions about the Lutheran/Christian theology to myself.

In seminary I think I was trying to fool myself into thinking I was like so many of you, that maybe I could develop joy in some aspects I hadn't before. But I've never been an every-Sunday-at-church kinda girl. It seems like a chore, going every week and then some. Even at my most content and active with a church, even when attending every single week, part of me knew this, felt this. Part of me didn't want to go every. single. week.

Part of it is a newly crystallized sense of defiance, the same defiance that flares when someone tells me what I should do. I know enough of myself that if I think "I should do that" more often than not I've already decided I'm not going to. It is the defiance towards a institution which drove my self respect and my sense of call and my self differentiation into the ground. Two horrible years of too many people who knew naught about me dictating who I was, what I was supposed to be, who I could be, what my preferences were. A defiance towards a group of supposed ministers who I felt did not listen, did not care, did not believe me. I used to believe pastors were some of the coolest people in the world. Except for those I already know and love, I am far more suspicious of them in general. In my bitterness, I turn away from all of it, cannot bring myself to be part of it again... yet.

Also, I've discovered seminary left me with too much information, too much detail about the service. I can no longer simply sit and enjoy a liturgy or a setting. I find myself analyzing, critiquing, criticizing the order, the disjointedness of the setting, the song choices, the sermon - especially in my home congregation where I've never had a good bond with the pastor anyway. (FYI - he plays his own role in my current feeling towards pastors in general.)

But maybe moreso than all of this, I still do not have the emotional energy to find the "right" church for me. I went to Lutheran churches near me a few times in Colorado. Every time, I walked in, joined the service and/or the coffee hour and left, with nary a word said to me in even acknowledgement or hello. I cannot go to a church, any church just for the sake of going. If it does not offer a sense of welcome, a sense of community, then it is worthless. And I cannot bear the lengthy search, the unknown length of time being an outsider, a stranger, a newcomer.

Ironically enough, it is also because I do not want to be the newcomer, the outsider, probed with lots of questions as to what brought me here, what my background is, what my history is. I am too honest not to answer questions to the best of my ability, and yet do not want to discuss my time in seminary, do not want to speak ill of it with strangers, to burden them with my horrible experience with a church they find a source of faith and comfort and strength. I find myself answering vaguely and contritely, "The school wasn't a good fit for me" or "I decided it wasn't my call" -- something generic, something which they will blithely accept and move on. Yet inside I am screaming "dammit no! I was miserable! I am broken! I need healing! That's why I'm here!" But I am sick of even that story. Sick of having to explain to anyone. I do not wish to rehash it, even though the scars are not yet fully healed.

I realize all of this might sound rather callous or superfluous to some. Yet I do not feel guilty about not going to church. I make no apologies for it. I only feel bad when people feel sorry or sad or disappointed for me because I am not attending, when I feel I am being judged for my decision. I am also annoyed by that response at the same time. In my own good time, people, in my own good time.

Feel free to question or comment all you want. :) I'm okay with that.