Like a lot of children who come from Christian families, growing up I spent every Sunday morning in church. My grandmother belonged to a Baptist church and therefore– so did my sister and I. Week after week we sat in the same pew, me and my sister separated by my grandmother, in an effort to prevent us from acting up. And I remember longing for the minute they’d call all the kids up to the altar, so we can line up- before heading downstairs for Sunday school.
It wasn’t until I was about 14 years old that I really enjoyed going to church. And I felt that– “the preacher is talking to me” –tingle. And one day as the Pastor was preaching- I heard him say what, at that point, I’d heard him say a thousand times: “If you feel God in your heart and you need a church home today. Please come forward”… And on this day tears started rolling down my face. I rose to my feet, scoot past my grandmother, and somehow I was at the altar. That was the moment for me when I accepted Jesus as my Lord and savior.
Two years later I was confirmed in a Methodist church, and since then I have taken Holy Communion for the forgiveness of my sins- more times than I can count. But as I’ve gotten older (I’m 26 now), there are two things I now question:
One is going to church every Sunday. Lately it feels like going to church for me, is slipping back to the old routine of my childhood…
Continue reading on So Divine Magazine why I’m confused about what being a christian means today.
One person that echos a lot of my concerns is Jefferson Bethke, 22, who wrote a poem called: “Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus”
Jefferson on Church: “It’s not a museum for good people- It’s a hospital for the broken / Which means I don’t have to hide my failure. I don’t have to hide my sin. / Because it doesn’t depend on me. It depends on HIM.”