Faith, Church, and Belonging

I went to church today. I realize that, for most people, this event would be barely worth noting. But my relationship with organized religion (religion in general, if I'm honest) has been nonexistent and complicated. But mostly nonexistent.

When I was eight or nine I asked my mom what religion I was. Her answer was concise, "Lutheran." Apparently that was enough for me, because I don't recall asking any follow-up questions. Other than a few experiences with Bible camp in the summer (thanks to well meaning family friends who were probably, looking back, concerned for my soul), my exposure to God was minimal. Having no real frame of reference I didn't really mind, although I do believe that somewhere in the dim recesses of my childhood brain I understood I was lacking a common awareness and experience that most people take for granted.

Fast forward through middle and high school, where a few classmates casually commented that I was probably destined for hell because I had never been baptized and didn't belong to a church.  Their asumption was that I was a non-believer, and who knows? Maybe they were right. I had no clear idea of what I believed. I did know that I could never believe in a God who sent people to hell because of the choices made for them by their parents, and my feelings toward people who did were dark, judgemental.

I was married in a church- my husband's. We baptized our daughters, mostly because he likes the traditions associated with the church. I felt nothing. It was just words- something I did because that is what people do. Signs of religious hypocrisy- hate, judgement, using God as a weapon- had convinced me that religion was something to be wary of and to avoid.

Like many parents, children changed my mind. Despite my own hesitation, I don't want my girls to feel the same unease with all things religious that I do. So we chose a church and signed them up for Sunday school and confirmation class.

While I doubt I will ever become devout, the service today was nice. The message- Success should be determined by service, not status- resonated. And the story of members of the congregation singing to a young woman dying of terminal cancer literally moved me to tears.

Perhaps I was wrong, all these years, to only notice the negative, the dark side of religious fervor. Perhaps I've found a place where the message of God is one of hope, light, and inclusion. One of tolerance, acceptance, and love. One where the shadows of hate, judgement, and exclusion can be chased away.  One where I belong.