On Not Going to Church

I haven’t written much here about my decision to stop going to church, mostly because I didn’t want to make some big statement about it. But it’s been eight months or so, and I feel a need to reflect. In general, I think that Christians should go to church on a reasonably regular basis. This is not because a worship service is the only place that God is found or because we need to inoculate ourselves with enough Jesus to get us through the week. I just think there is something important about gathering with a group of people we may have nothing in common with, except our need for redemption and the ways that our Redeemer has interrupted our lives. Sometimes God shows up in people we don’t like too much. It’s important for us to notice that. It’s important to give and receive grace in a crowd of broken people as we imperfectly acknowledge the holy together and chew on the body and drink the blood.

So, if it were a perfect world, or at least a world that was at least always moderately tolerable, then in church I would be, on a more or less weekly basis. In case you didn’t notice, though, this ain’t a perfect world. Given the way the world is and the way we are and the way I am, sometimes things don’t work the way they are supposed to. I liken my current churchless state to a road trip gone terribly terribly wrong – like wanting to go to Arizona, but somehow ending up in Idaho. I’ve never been to Idaho, and I’m sure it’s a state with many fine individuals, but that doesn’t really help when I meant to go to Phoenix, but ended up in Boise.

Maybe the issue was the interstate or my car or just my spectacularly bad sense of direction, but at the end of the day I was no closer to where I wanted to go than I was before. At any rate, I decided last spring that I wanted to be emotionally and spiritually healthy for a change. I wanted to connect with God and learn how to pray and give and receive love and maybe not have quite so big an angry, bitchy streak. Church was getting in the way of that, and it really didn’t matter any more if it was them or me – I was stuck and I was staying stuck and every little thing either hurt or pissed me off. I could feel my guard go up before I even got inside the room.

A friend told me recently about her church, and how people were free to be broken and honest and ask questions. I told her that I didn’t believe her. It’s not that I think she is lying or delusional. There is just no part of me that believes that church could be a safe space for me. I know that some churches are, but I don’t believe it. No doubt I am very very wrong, but I still don’t believe it, and all the pretending in the world won’t change the fact that I’m in Boise.

Right now, I’m trying to knock down the walls I built and the walls that were built for me. I have entirely too much practice wearing body armor, so church is rather counter-productive. One of my friends told me this week that I’m taking a course in Humanity 101. She’s right – In some ways, I function like an emotionally stunted five year old, and I’m not sure I know how to really be a human being, at least not a functioning grown-up one. You’d think I would have figured that out by now, but I haven’t, and I’m too busy trying to walk through my stuff to have too much time to beat myself up for not having it together.

I’ve mentioned my women’s inner healing group here before. Two of my friends have said that it’s my church right now. In one way yes, it is more church than church has ever been. It is a wonderful and excruciatingly painful gift to support and be supported by a circle of brave women as we take a look at the dark spiky plants growing in the shadows of every corner of every room of the house. It finally feels like, spiritually speaking, we’re talking my native tongue. My friendships with some of the women there extend past the group, and it’s a powerful thing to know someone who has seen your inner five year old and likes you anyway. The work and prayer we do there is deeply spiritual, certainly more so than your average church committee meeting, and I feel safe.

But you know what? It ain’t church – it’s group therapy. This is not a problem, because that is exactly what I need right now, and this isn’t work that I can do in church, although I rather wish churches did more of this sort of thing. It’s fabulous and difficult, but limited. Only adult women can come, for one thing, so that bars 2/3 of the population from attending. Plus, if you haven’t at least occasionally struggled to just keep breathing, you might not think that it’s a real good time – so that lets out the well-adjusted. Admittedly, that’s a pretty small percentage of the population, but still...

So what with my huge piles of painful crap to sort through, and having to go to work enough not to get fired, I figure that I have from 10:00 to 10:07 to think about church-y things – but only on alternate Thursdays. During those seven minutes, I’m mostly just glad not to be Episcopalian. The rest of the time I have made a pact with myself not to talk about or write about church. I estimate that I have been 93% successful, which has freed up a lot of energy to see what God and I have to say to each other.

I’m pretty sure I will go back to church in some form eventually. I don’t know when or how or exactly what that will look like, and I’m okay with that for now. Some days it seems like God is good; other days not so much, but I think I’m headed in the right direction, even if I don’t entirely know where I’m going. Maybe I’ll never get to Phoenix; maybe I will. Either way, I think I might be okay.

Comments

[Nate]

I rediscovered how painful church can be a few days ago. I'm still wincing. It is amazing how perfectly nice people can utterly crush your spirit.

The question I was asked that absolutely floored me, when I was trying to explain to this person how terrified and complicated I felt, and how being told that the problem was my fault for not reading the Bible enough was Not Helping, was 'well, why do you go to church at all?' Which hit me like a punch to the face. If not for the fact that I have a desperate, stubborn and quite unreasonable faith, I would probably have got up right then, walked out of the room and left Christianity forever. As it is I walked out of the room and will find it difficult to talk to that person again, as there's now this weird kind of power-struggle dynamic between us. I don't feel *safe* around them any longer, is the thing - they feel they have Told Me To Do Something Which I Am Not Obeying, and I believe I already am doing what God has asked of me, and there we part ways.

On the whole I'm reasonably happy with the church(es) I attend now, which is I admit fairly unusual. I'm not sure I'm that much involved, though, beyond attending and saying hi to people and occasionally trying to hang out. There is a part of me that wonders just why people invest so much time and energy into church activities that to me seem mostly meaningless, other than the raw mechanics of creating a space for human gathering, which seems often to be made overly complicated for what benefit it provides.

It's the power tripping though that really bugs me, and even the nicest people seem susceptible to it - sometimes the nicest people more than the rest. There seems to be this systemic weakness in Christianity where 'go into all the world and make disciples' is read as 'maneuver yourself into positions of power and dominance over others for their own good'. I'm sure the liberal/mainline world has its own dysfunctions, but the evangelical world seems to be particularly susceptible to this with its tradition of 'confrontation' and 'challenge'.

(There are many reasons why I still go to church, which is why it was a heck of a hard question to answer. One, I need human contact on the weekend or I go insane, and evangelical Christian people are my tribe, like it or not. Two, one group I attend because of a form of prayer they practice which is like nothing else I can find elsewhere - and it's the giving more than the receiving I enjoy. Three, another group I attend because they value independent thought and creative art, and they make a point of making their worship services less claustrophobic and oppressive than most. And finally, I go to church because I want to be effective in building subcultural networks for the propogation of a living Christian faith embedded in the world in which I live, but if you ask me whether I think it's the world or the church that most needs to be evangelised, right now I'd have to toss you a coin.)

[Heather]

Christy, This is one of your best posts ever. Of course I'm biased and think anything you write is prosaic. And, I'm biased beause your journey with faith and church and healing has been a helpful reference point for me in my journey [I'll call Christy this morning, cause I know she's skipping church, too, but she'll understand about hating church and loving Jesus... maybe I'm not crazy, 'cuz I KNOW Christy ain't crazy]. Thank you, my friend. Blessings for your journey. To Phoenix... I see the symbolism,dude [I can be deep, given enough beer!

[Michael]

Just another reader without a map stopping as I saw you parked beside the road.

Just a quick hello and a wave and I'll be on my way to who knows where.

Just an acknowledgement and an appreciation for your words.

Take Care
Michael

[Phyllis]

Christy,
Right on. You're in the exact right spot, right on time, doing the right stuff, being transfused with the true gospel. If everyone could learn what you're learning now, we'd really have a church worth going to. Blessings on you.

[iphy]

hi friend. as one who stopped going to church a couple of years ago, [but who still goes occasionally because she loves the pastor, not the method or the people] and as one who has spent sacred space with you and other women, i still place my bet with the girls. i can tell you that that weekend -- group therapy or not -- was as holy and life-affirming as anything i've done, in all of my life. i miss you. renee

[jenell]

Beautiful. You're on your way. Do your students ever read your blog? I've been wondering about self-disclosure on the blog, knowing that some of my students do read it. Do you think about that, and if so, how do you think about it? (And don't feel oblgiated to reply or post about this - just if you want to).
Love, Jenell

[Christy]

Nate - Thanks for sharing a piece of your story. I have no answers but hope that you are able to discover grace and God along with the hurt.

Heather - What with the skipping church and drinking, I'm afraid that I've corrupted you.

Michael and Phyllis - Thanks.

Renee - I've been meaning to e-mail you - I miss you too. I'm with the girls at the moment, too, but I hope to one day be healed enough that I can walk into church without feeling like I need to constantly protect myself.

Jenell - I have only told one former student about DBD, and I'm very careful to only blog on my own time, on my own computer, and I never mention my employer. I'm pretty open with the students and one co-worker, but when it comes to anyone above me on the organizational chart, I share very little about myself. When it comes to students, my messiness is my greatest strength. I think that the powers-that-be would prefer that I be a bit more linearly defined, so I'm pretty careful.

[jen lemen]

christy, sorry, you stumbled into a personal obsession of mine (worrying about people i love whose blogs get found out by the wrong people)--anyone can google your name and dry bones dance is the first hit. i can't imagine anyone reading these pages thinking anything but loving, wonderful thoughts about you, but feel compelled to point this out nonetheless. if i were a student (or boss), i'd google my teacher (or employee) promptly upon making your acquaintance. but that might just be nosy me.

much love, j.

[Michelle]

I'm at the "church outside on the lawn on sunny days" point too, and it's one I've desperately needed. After years of diving completely into full involvement in worship and kids ministries, without really knowing the God I was supposedly serving, I've taken time out to get to know said God and find out what living for Him, worshipping Him and just plain knowing who He is, is all about.

Some have condemned me. Some have ignored me (no-one from church has called to find out how I am or where I am, and it's been months). Some can't understand that one's journey toward God can take them away from church.

But nevertheless, that's where I'm at. And it's good to know I'm not there alone.

[Ms. D]

Christy, THANK YOU!
Thanks for finding a way to explain why church is important, whilst managing to explain why you can't go right now. As someone who is also taking time out from church committment I thought this was a great post. I've found it very distressing in the past when people who are opting out of church feel compelled to dis' the church. We all know it has it's faults but it's a bit like someone being rude about your family, even though you may also think your family are horrible you love them just the same. At the same time church can be just too much for you if you're not up to coping. That doesn't mean we've all failed, it might just mean it's not working right now.
Anyway, I hope I end up in Phoenix.. or any other geographically appropriate metaphor.. too!

[Christy]

Jen - THis is probably terribly narcissistic of me, but I've googled myself, so I know my blog comes up. I know I can't control who finds this, but it feels like one thing if a student or someone else from work finds this on their own and another thing if I tell students about it.

Michelle - If you want to know who your friends really are, stop going to church and see who's left. Hope you are discovering God in the sunshine.

Ms. D - Hope to see you in Phoenix some time.