- Aug 30, 2008
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Take your time. Don't rush. But from time to time visit a church. Find one that is welcoming and comforts you. You may find a new home.Greetings and God's blessings to you all.
I am a 35 year old male from Canada. I would like to share a very personal topic that has caused me a lot of grief over the years. When I was a child, my mother struggled with poverty and lacked support for her physical disability. On my sixth birthday, she started sending me on a bus every Sunday to attend a Methodist church. I don’t think she saw it as religious indoctrination but rather a way for me to be part of something bigger. But it didn’t take long for my hand-me-down clothes and outdated sneakers to make me a target for bullying. The one place I never expected to feel out of place became the hardest place to be. These kids were second- and third-generation members of that church, and they got preferential treatment.
At a certain age, we advanced to what they called “intermediate studies,” and that’s when the bullying escalated. They told me I didn’t have family money because God didn’t have a future for me. I remember the exact day I stopped going to church. That Sunday, the kids lied to the bus driver, telling him I had gone home sick. I hadn’t. My mother had no backup plan. She had to spend $18 on a taxi to come get me. At the time, I didn’t understand what that meant, but that night, when dinner was served, she didn’t eat. She told me her stomach was sick. Now I know the truth: the taxi fare meant she couldn’t afford her own meal.
After that, I never looked back. I leaned into every piece of scripture that told me it was okay to pray alone, in my room, and that I didn’t need a church to be a Christian. I explored the idea of spirituality versus religion. For the longest time, I never considered stepping back into a church. Then, 15 years later, my late mother - by then in respite care - asked me to attend the small Catholic Mass in the basement. And do you know what I felt? Fear. I felt like I didn’t belong. I felt like I wasn’t good enough. When it came time for communion, I gave a nervous smile and passed on the offering.
Later, I went through extensive therapy with a doctor who had once been an ordained minister. His advice stuck with me:
"Where would we be if fear stopped us from doing things? We don’t jump out of planes because it feels good. We do it for the thrill of making our fears feel tiny, even if only for a few fleeting minutes."
So, here I am. A grown adult absolutely terrified of churches. I believe in talking to people who have passed, in hopes that they are nearby. Intercessory prayer is important to me. I also believe in baptism. I’m a real mix of Christian beliefs.
What advice would you offer to someone in my situation? Do you believe in the importance of being in a church community, or do you see personal, individual faith as just as valid? Thank you for your time.
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