I've had issues with "church" since I was about 12 years old. I was angry at the church, angry at what it had become. Angry at preachers who molested children. Angry at men who showed up with their beautiful families on Sunday morning, then beat them within an inch of their lives Sunday night. I was angry at family members attempting to exorcise demons from me when I did not meet their expectations. I was angry at people who beat my dear friend with a Bible because of her sexual orientation.
I was angry.
Most of all, I was angry because I felt like the church dynamic had taken something beautiful from me. I had a belief system that gave me purpose, it made me feel loved and safe regardless of my situation. But when I tried to share it, it was connected to this sick, twisted idea of church and religion.
I went through phases with church services. For a while I refused to go, then I went on rare occasions, eventually I went on my own accord... but with a torn apart heart. I hated that church had become about a building and a brand, but I thought it was necessary to go in order to stay close to this god I loved.
That is, until I didn't love god anymore. When I lost my faith a couple years ago, I gave up religious services all together. For the first time in my life, I hated religion AND god. I swore I'd never step foot in a church building again, because I finally didn't feel obligated to appease an imaginary deity.
Long story short, I learned to love God again. Not the same god I grew up with. A very different God, an inclusive and non-judgemental God. I learned that there was a branch of Christ Followers that didn't have to hate the other. They didn't have to argue about heaven or hell, gay or straight, black or white- because faith and belief was so much bigger than that.
But I was still so alone. The Christians around me accused me of making up my own God. How could I believe in Heaven without Hell? How could I believe in metaphor? How dare I be okay with more than one form of sexuality? So I clung to this God I found, but I let go of Christianity and Church.
Until one day I walked into One Church. Within the first service, the pastor spoke about doubting God. He spoke about God existing and allowing children to suffer and not being sure that there was a good answer for that. I was so relieved. It was as if I finally had permission to love God, people, and science all at once. As I got to know the community there, I found that they were all fellow searchers. They grew up Catholic, Lutheran, Baptist, Athiest, gay, straight, all of the above. They didn't dress and talk the same, they didn't even all agree on spiritual values. And it was beautiful.
I've met some of the most amazing people at One Church. They inspire me with their life stories, with their journeys and legacies. They are radical in the way Jesus was, radical in the sense that they are willing to love people from all walks of life. Even if it meant receiving death threats and condemnation in the process.
So here I am, the girl who used to slash her wrists after church because it hurt so much is writing about why she loves church. Because if someone would have told me years ago that church could be a safe place, I would have laughed in their face.
Really, the words we use are too small. Church, God, religion- they cannot contain the nature of the divine and the wholeness of community. Even if the word church is not enough for it, One Church is a community of people unlike any other I've found. I miss them, I love them, and I think of them daily as they go trough times of transition and learning.
P.S. If you have found that church is too small for you and you're living Stateside, I'd encourage you to checkout the Open Network. They are a network of faith communities committed to being inclusive and loving. If someone would have told me years ago that this was an option, it would have saved me from so much heartache.
I'm sorry... and you're welcome. :)
