I named this blog Finding Life Beyond Church because I’m “in the process” of finding a life that includes the church but doesn’t revolve around the establishment, and I haven’t “completed” that process yet. I dare say it could take the rest of my life to process it all. When the church is at the center of your life you begin to think that all the work you do for the church is for the Lord, when sometimes that work is only for the church.
The words “Deconstructing Faith” are a hot topic lately. Here’s where I fall on that topic. My issue has never been with Jesus. My issue has never been with my faith. I honestly have never once doubted that God existed, that Jesus came to earth to live a sinless life, that He died for me, that He chose me to follow Him, that I answered His call and that my life belongs to Him. For me, the deconstruction part has been the human side of things; what we as “Christians” have made Christianity into. What the machine of the church has become versus what Jesus intended it to be. What is a woman’s role in the church based on what the Bible says instead of what history has made it? What role does alcohol play in the life of a Christian? These are just a few of the things I’ve worked to “deconstruct” over the years. At times in my life, those different areas have been under more scrutiny than others. I remember once uttering the words “if this is what Christianity is, then I’m done”. Funny enough, those feelings have not come from my daily walk with Jesus, but always in conjunction with the establishment of the church. Many times, I’ve wondered if I would just be better off without the church. But I know Jesus has a purpose for the church and in turn, it has a purpose in my life, and because of that, I’ve continually deconstructed certain areas of teaching and ideas. I still struggle to trust the church or a pastor. That’s probably because of my past experiences.
When we left our small country church, we never even took a week off. We immediately started the search for a new one. We weren’t looking for anything different than what we already knew. We would only look at Missionary Baptist churches. We would visit Sunday mornings, we would attend Sunday School and worship services, Sunday night and if the church had it, we would also attend BTS (Baptist Training Service) which is the evening version of Sunday School. We would also attend the Wednesday night services and programs.
We visited every Missionary Baptist Church within a 30-mile radius, a different one every week. It was awful. After being in a church not even a mile from my house for my entire life, this was no fun. We had to drive farther, we had to meet and talk to new people. The preachers were all weird. The kids weren’t welcoming. It was absolute torture. We never once visited a Southern Baptist Church, those we had been taught were too liberal, and we wouldn’t/couldn’t walk away from our Missionary Baptist roots.
I should also note that my grandmother left the country church with us. She was diligent to attend where we attended each week. Wherever we joined, she would come with us.
My great-grandparents had passed away by this time.
Finally, one Sunday morning we landed at a church that just felt right. It was about 30 minutes from our house. It was in a bigger town that even had a Walmart! This church would have 100 people in services on any given Sunday. Compared to our small country church which averaged less than 50 each week, this church was huge. The people were friendly, we already knew a few of them. But best of all, they had several kids my age.
The year was 1992, the month was January. The carpet was yellow. His boots were gray eel skin. He wore a gold chain that he took off and twirled on the floor. He was tall, but he kept his arms on his knees bent over looking at the floor. He had dark brown hair with a little curl to it. He was cute. I noticed. I can still see it all 25 years later. This was Sunday School, the first one I had enjoyed since we left our country church. There were girls my age, and they were nice. They even invited me to sit with them during worship. I begged my parents to join this church. This was the one. We joined within a month.