Why I Go to Church, Part 4

Photo of my church by my colleague Pedrito

Despite the fact that I could muse about it quite at length, it's time to wrap up my "Why I Go to Church" series.  Thinking back through what I've written, it's evident that I go to church because it's my long-time custom, because the preaching provides both challenge and blessing, because the music lifts my soul to heaven, because it's my family.

But I also go to church despite. Mostly, it boils down to going despite people. I look around and recognize the personal stories of people, and how tangled they are. My job probably puts me in a position to know more of these than the average person in our congregation. As I've described at this blog before, I often find myself praying for some person or family sitting within my line of sight, or someone whose customary seat in the pew sits empty this week. I know the battles they are fighting, the losses they are grieving, the anger they are trying to handle, the burdens they carry. Because many of the people I work with also attend my church, I know who is upset or bitter at me for a decision I've made in my work, and I see them avoid looking my way. Or I know who is unhappy with Husband (the principal) for some decision he's had to hold firm on, or for backing up a teacher in face of this parent's criticism. I would rather not know these things. I would rather not face them at church. But I go to church despite people.

That leads me to the thought that there are people who show up at church despite me. I may not be living up to what they hear me profess. I may come across as judgmental, even if that was not my intent. I may have made a comment that irks them, or made a decision that makes their life harder, or reacted to them in some way that is frustrating or scary or obnoxious to them. Often I have a clue who these people might be, but not always. I'm glad they go to church despite me. 

In addition, there are many of us who show up at church despite God. It's a function of loving Someone, needing that love from Someone, and at the same time not understanding --or being frustrated at--that Someone. Sometimes you want to take a vacation from Someone like that.  Sometimes you want to go on a long journey away from them. I think God understands. I believe God loves us, and he knows us through and through, so He must understand, even when we're not being very elegant about our reactions to Him.

Upon reflection, this sounds to me like a fairly healthy family. We love each other, we annoy each other, we stay in connection with each other, we celebrate one another, we bore each other, we get furious at each other, we rub the rough edges off one another. But we belong. We gather around the table and break bread together, and we're richer for having stayed in touch and made the effort to get together in the same physical space. That's church.  And that's why I go.