I never wanted church

In 2009, I convinced my husband to leave our fancy six-figure lives in Washington, DC, and move back to my hometown of Paducah, KY. Well, convinced is a strong word. I got pregnant and then told him me and the baby were moving to Paducah and he was welcome to join us.

A decade before I had loaded up my cherry red Oldsmobile Cutlass and headed away for college convinced I was leaving the town of my birth forever. My dreams were too big to be contained inside a town few people could pronounce.

Now, here I was ten years later hungering for the small town life I had left behind. I wanted to be near my family. I wanted my husband to be home by 5. I wanted mortgage payments that didn’t shock the conscience.

What I never wanted was church.

I was raised in church. It was an experience that was not entirely bad but left me on the brink of adulthood feeling less than. Instead of being equipped to handle all that life threw my way, I felt like no matter what I did I just wasn’t good enough. Any doubts planted in college fell on fertile ground and by the time I graduated I was telling anyone that would listen I was done with religion.

Everything changed when I had my son. During all the pregnancy planning, I thought I had prepared for every situation. I had the carseat installed weeks in advance. I took CPR classes and read book after book on infant care. And yet I was completely caught off guard when my husband looked at me one evening and said, “Shouldn’t we start going to church?”

At first my response was no. Nothing had changed. I still had doubts. I still had anger. Why would I expose my son to that?

Of course, overtime my feelings changed. My husband convinced me not all churches are created equal and pointed out he had none of the issues I did despite growing up in church. I began to notice that many of the families in our social circle – families who shared our values and priorities – all attended the same church.

So, I began attending church for my son. Thinking that it would be a nice Sunday routine to expose him to another worldview, I never expected that three years later I would be standing in front of my family being confirmed into a faith I thought I had left behind.

Now, church is not just a place we go but a community to which we belong.

I realize that we are the young family so many churches are hungry to attract – involved members of the community with time and resources to dedicate to the church. I’ve had clergy from other churches ask me what brought us back to the fold and I can sense an interest beyond my personal story.

I wish I had an answer for them.

Unfortunately, there was no church program that got us in the door. We weren’t drawn in by any slick brochure or fancy website. In the end, it was exactly what Erin wrote about in her last post. It was community that got to the alter at Grace Episcopal Church and community that has kept us coming back week after week.

It was the community of young parents like us – friends we knew from play dates or preschool that kept inviting us to church again and again. It was the community of intelligent and thoughtful people who welcomed my doubts and made it clear that questions were not only accepted but welcome. It was the community of loving and compassionate hearts who made room at the table for people very different from us and went searching for tables beyond their own that needed food.

It was also a willingness in my own journey to cross the threshold of church once more. No amount of invitations or welcoming messages would have gotten me through those doors before I was ready.

Not surprisingly, like almost everything else involving religion, the answer is complicated. Much like faith itself, my journey back to church was a little bit of timing, a whole lot of love, and enough grace to cross the finish line.

This post originally appeared on Irrerevin. 

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Why I Take My Children To Church

Me and church have been on a break...a ten year long break.

I thought it was a permanent split. Apparently it isn’t because for the last two weeks the Holland family has been going to church.

I grew up in a Baptist church. For most of my childhood, it was a wonderful experience. I look back now and realize what a gift it was to grow up in a community like that. I felt supported and loved. I felt like people were rooting for me. I also learned values that have stuck with me my entire life - forgiveness, charity, compassion. However, somewhere around adolescence things went astray.

After I joined the church youth group, I stopped feeling supported and loved. I felt inadequate and pressured to be someone I was not. Suddenly, the emphasis wasn’t on empathy or love but guilt and judgement. I started to get the distinct feeling that no matter what I did I was not good enough. Needless to say, in college what started out as small doubts turned into a complete lack of faith.

For the past ten years, I thought and talked and read a lot about about religion but I never felt the need to go back to church. I can’t honestly say there was something missing in my life. There wasn’t. Like an increasing number of Americans, I didn’t see regular church attendance as essential to spirituality or my growth as a person.

Then, I had Griffin.

All those issues I had sorted out no longer seemed so neatly sorted. How could I introduce him to religion? Did I even want to introduce him to religion? My painful history with the church was decidedly not his problem, but at the same time I wanted desperately to protect him from just such an experience.

Honestly, if we had stayed in D.C., I’m not even sure this would have been an issue. But we didn’t stay in D.C. We moved back to the Bible Belt, where the one of the first things people ask is “Have you found a church home yet?” Avoiding religion in this community is not really an option. I have several close friends who grew up in religious communities but didn’t attend church. Even though they went with friends occasionally, they said they always felt isolated.

I didn’t want that for Griffin and I’m not sure it’s realistic to expect a child to explore these issues on their own knowing their parents don’t approve. However, I do think it’s realistic to expect them to explore any doubts as an adult. Heck, rejecting your parents religious belief is pretty much required to get a driver’s license. I just feel like if we send him with my parents or friends, the message will be clear. Church isn’t something we value and you shouldn’t either. And while my doubts are far from resolved, I do believe church is valuable, especially for children.  Click to tweet. 

There are few arenas in our society where children can learn the sacredness of certain places and how to be respectful in those places. Growing up in church, I learned a sense of duty. Church was important in my family and we went even when we didn’t feel like it. In church, I also a found a group of mentors and role models. Adults who weren’t my parents but who I could trust and talk to when I was having a problem.

It’s more than that though. Long ago, I started rolling my eyes every time Lee Ann Womack’s “I Hope You Dance” came on the radio. But if I’m being honest, I still tear up every time she sings the line, “Promise me you’ll give faith a fighting chance.” I want Griffin to give faith a fighting chance. Just because my faith has taken a beating doesn’t mean he shouldn’t get a shot in the ring. And if I don’t introduce him to religion honestly and openly, someone else will.

So, we go to church.

This post was originally published on Salt & Nectar in 2011.

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