My Church Detox

Even though I am thirty-three, a college graduate, a parent, an accomplished traveler, a spouse, and a lot of other things, there are some essentials of adulthood that I am just now figuring out. One is that I don't have to agree with you to like you. Another is that I have a pretty solid sense of what's best for me and don't usually need to be told by another human what that is. This might seem like common sense for most, but the reason it's a somewhat recent revelation is because of one institution: church.

Before, you write me an angry email, I know that it may work for some of you, and I know some churches work pretty decently. However, I know the opposite is true as well--that there are many who have been indoctrinated, even brainwashed in a lot of instances. There are a lot more people who are hurt, disenfranchised with churches than I dared to believe not so long ago. I'm not saying church in and of itself is bad. In fact, I attend one on a semi-regular basis. What I do intend to say is that churches have been insisting on conformity of thought and doctrine from A to Z for far too long. The results of this (and of many other factors) have been propaganda machines who walk out of church, try their best not to get dirty or think the wrong things, and get so wrapped up in their religion that they--for whatever reason--neglect works of charity and act of kindness, random or otherwise. 

Another result is that free-thinkers are not accepted, and either leave or suppress the part of themselves that knows better than to swallow whatever is placed before them. If you think I'm saying this about you, you're probably none too pleased. You probably think that you read the bible critically, scrutinizing sermons based on what you know. If you do, kudos. But what happens when your heart tells you something different than scripture under the interpretations you were taught? What are the consequences when your free-thinking mind bucks at an entire sermon or tenant from your favorite preacher, home church, or sector of christianity? 

What happened to me was that I was half run out of one church and fully run out of another.

This started with women's equality to men, with me refusing to believe that women are here to serve their husbands and cater to his every whim. Now, those who know me may say I wasn't run out. (You may also say that this wasn't the point of that book, but I wholeheartedly disagree.) The truth is that I felt so uncomfortable with some people at that church at that point in time, and so disappointed with the leadership telling me I was the one out of place, that it became apparent that this institution and I did not have enough in common at the heart, and I left--spouse, kid, and all. 

The next time this happened, it was while I was in my cocoon, transforming from a conservative right-winged Christian to the very liberal counter-part that I have become. I questioned the church's role in society, the teachings that focus on 'sin' and on how good and bubblesque our lives should be, what we're allowed to say, do, watch, listen to, associate with, and I dared cross that unforgivable line from "We should love even the sinning LGBT community," to "Maybe I shouldn't judge," to "I was wrong and I dare say that those who are preventing equal rights are the real ones in sin."

That belief that I hold dearly to my heart--that there is nothing wrong with a loving relationship between two men, or two women, or a man and a woman--that we're all equal and the law should reflect this, has glazed over more eyes and deadened more voices than any other belief I've held as a Christian. Maybe even more than when I used to think I knew who was going to hell and who wasn't, and that I should broadcast this. (For those of you dying to know why I believe this, or just dying to debate me, I will get to it soon, but this entry is about another matter.) I feel strongly that it has made me more of a misfit among my own faith than anything else I could do except to renounce that faith. I also think there are those who believe that the two go hand in hand. Those people need to really reevaluate their priorities. 

When I was first out of church, I thought that maybe I was doing something wrong. However, I was so disenfranchised that I really didn't give a shit. (Yes, I just cussed. Paul said "shit" too. It's just that your translators were too chicken to write it in English). I was hurt, distrusted pastors and Christians and began to be repulsed by anything that reminded me of the institution of church. I couldn't force myself to pray more than the passing sentence pleading for help from above. I couldn't bring myself to open my bible. I certainly couldn't put in a worship CD or listen to a sermon. At first, this felt dirty, but over time, it began to feel more pure than anything I had ever done because a preacher or fellow Christian said it was the "godly" thing to do. I reevaluated what I felt was truly important in Christianity (the words of Jesus wound up on top), and I came up with love, above everything else. Jesus said to love God, love your neighbor and that the rest of the scriptures could be summarized in those two; that began to scream to me that love was the only right and everything else was details. It was the beginning of freedom. I could watch Dexter, listen to Lady Gaga, and write whatever I wanted. I stopped beating myself up for "missing the mark." I no longer spent energy dwelling on "sin." I started to really, really believe in the grace of God and that it was bigger than anything I could do. I stopped fretting. I started loving. I stopped filtering people out of my life because they soiled my bubble, and felt the nerve rising to kick out of my life harmful people, even those who quoted scripture while they shot their arrows. I became friends with so many amazing people who I would have turned away before, for whatever reason. I learned how to really, truly be me for the first time, and I finally felt like I could love my fellow humans according to my human abilities, without limitations born of doctrines that may or may not have their roots in scriptures (again, another matter for many more blog posts).

I could go on and on, but then you'd never read this in its entirety, would you?

The point is the following:

I left church for two years and it purified my faith.