The Messy Mingling

I never realized how much the Church had a hold on my faith. Not a particular church. Just the church in general. The ways, the rules, the traditions all seemed to lead me more than Jesus. Did I believe? Absolutely. Did I go to church, serve, and do things with and within the church with good intentions? Of course. Somehow, I got wrapped up in the ways of church and our church structure in the United States more than I sat in the presence of God.

There’s a way we do church in America. Different denominations may look a little different from each other. Even though each church may look a little different from one another, there is definitely a way to be a Christian in this country. And boy, did I look the part. I lived it out and I lived it out loud. I always wanted to fit in. I can remember from the time I was a little girl longing to fit in with friends; to be accepted. I never really did, though. I never found myself in that crowd: the one everyone likes and looks to for what we should wear, how we should behave, and how to be the it group. Oh, but how I tried to fit into their mold. I just wanted to belong, but never did.

Little did I know that years later I would realize that fitting in was never a part of the faith equation. We talk a lot about how Jesus didn’t fit in. We like to talk about how he up-ended the “in” crowd of that day. What I find, ironically, is that while we celebrate Jesus’ unique character that blows up the norms of his day, we still flock together in groups all of us wanting to fit in somewhere and to matter.

I remember two distinct moments that prompted my freedom to believe my way without apology. I received a phone call from one of our boys on a mission trip. He had just spent a few days working with a program that fed the homeless. They stocked shelves, organized the warehouse, and fed the homeless. On the second leg of their trip, they attended a large youth conference. And when I say large, picture an arena full. He couldn’t reconcile the fact that they just served people in need yet were spending thousands upon thousands on this conference. I was so proud of him in this moment. He had such a mature awareness of who he was and what he cared about at such a young age (middle school). However, I also knew that if he didn’t “like” this conference, he wouldn’t fit into the American Christian mold of a good Christian youth. Oddly enough, in that moment, I didn’t care what others’ thought. This kid found his faith in a way that many adults never do.

The second moment I knew I may have needed a church sabbatical came on our last visit to church before we went on lockdown for the pandemic. A Children’s pastor came up to me after church with some concerns about another one of my sons. She let me know that he had been questioning the teacher in relation to the Bible story. She continued to “console” me about how one of her kiddos had strayed and that I while I should be aware that he is questioning, I should find comfort in knowing that some kids go through this. I literally needed to pick my mouth up off the floor. While her intentions may have been good in her mind, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Why is it frowned upon that our kids have questions about their faith and what they are learning? I find that mature and incredible. I was proud of my fourth grader for wanting to know more and why and all the things. Bring it. But, I like the mess and many don’t.

Take these two moments, a lockdown, some riots, and a crazy political season and this girl needed a break from the church. I realized I didn’t feel free to have my own unique faith journey. I needed to look and act the way everyone else did in the four walls of (any) church to be a good Christian. It isn’t the church’s fault. It just is what it is. The way we’ve done things for centuries. The ways in which we have interpreted God’s Word and made it true not realizing our own human limitations. This led me to strive to be more like the Church instead of following the ways of Jesus.

I desperately want the freedom to believe and embark on this faith journey my way and in my timing. I want the freedom to look differently than everyone else and not be questioned whether I’m doing it right or not. (And I’m not talking about not having accountability here.) I want to be loved and accepted because of my uniqueness not because me and my family look like all the other families in the four walls of the church I attend.

I found the freedom to believe when I took a sabbatical from church: to question, to wonder, to explore, to find church in other ways, to give outside of tithing in a way that truly came from the heart and served others outside the confines of the law of the church land, and it felt so good. I didn’t leave because of anything anyone in church did. If anything, my church friends, and leaders were so loving and kind. I left because my soul needed me to. I couldn’t be who they expected me to be anymore. I was so much more than that. I am more than that.

I have learned, however, that freedom comes with a cost. Freedom cost me to lose people I adored, and I thought adored me. Freedom cost me to be misunderstood and judged. Freedom’s cost meant I was talked about, and narratives were created about me that were not true. That’s okay, though. That cost is part of the messy mingling and taught me more about grace and forgiveness than any Sunday message I’ve heard from the pulpit.

Even though freedom cost me, it gave me more than I could have imagined. More love. More compassion. For myself and for others. More giving, grace, and forgiveness. I gained a wider perspective and let more people in never realizing how many in had left out. I gained the ability to freely search for God in the way my soul needed and was now able to give that same freedom to others.

Man, this freedom feels good. I’ve never felt God more in this place and I am the questioning queen. Don’t be afraid to be free. Don’t fear looking different or allowing yourself to have a different path than the constructs set in place. It’s okay to not be that person. Because the person you are is the one who is free.