One of my best friends recently asked if I would go to her church with her on her birthday. I don't know if that seems weird to anyone, but it was truly an honor for me. This friend grew up fairly non-religious and now attends a United Methodist church, which is the denomination I myself grew up in.
Unlike some people, I had an awesome growing up in church experience overall. It was a place my parents were very involved in, it felt vibrant and energetic to me, I liked the music, I liked the big mural of Jesus with a lantern that hung in the foyer of the 'old chapel.' I liked the smells of the place, the ministers, my friends. I liked the songs and I liked what I learned about Jesus being a champion of the underdog, a friend of the reviled and outcast. What I absorbed was more about Jesus' life than his death - that the meaning of his life was about lifting up the oppressed and doing unto others as you would have them do unto you. The way I saw it, was that it didn't matter that much to me, anyway, about getting into heaven - being good was to make the world a better place.
So, I was interested to attend this relatively young, new, exciting congregation of United Methodists, especially considering that I've attended a Unitarian Universalist church for the past 11 years. If you're not familar with Unitarian Universalism, it's a liberal denomination that emphasizes "deeds not creeds" - many inter-faith couples/families attend as well as people who are scientists, seekers, and skeptics of many varieties.
When my friend and I pulled up to her church that Sunday in March, we were warmly greeted and welcomed. Coffee and treats were available right away and smiling, outgoing people were present as helpers of every variety. Everyone was enthusiastically ready to worship. And when we sat down to the service, I was feeling very uncomfortable. Very.
It was kind of like the feeling you have when you're a teenager and your mom is with you in a public place and you feel weird about her. Some of it had to do with smiling enthusiasm, which UUs are not known for, being that we are quite influenced by people from the Northeast. And introverts. Yet, the discomfort was also like a blanket that spread out over both the church I'm in now and the church I grew up in. I found myself with a lot of "us" and "them" thinking: "We don't do it this way." Or, "Why do they do it that way?" Or "They do this better than we do." Or, "That wouldn't fly with us."
And after I hung out in the pew with my discomfort, it faded. I probably really started enjoying myself during the sermon. I heard familiar ideas and stories I'd grown up with from the Bible. I heard philosophies that match my current spiritual experiences. For me, it became less about the 'us' and 'them' of the outer trappings - the rituals or music and smiling - and more about a kind of joy in realizing that there are communities all over the place that are helping people find meaning and hope in their lives and take action that makes the world a better place. I didn't really need it to be the exact same as what I hear or experience every Sunday. I didn't need it to be the same as what I grew up with. I felt a sense of a large community.
If we sit down and listen to whoever we see or feel is 'other', we have a lot to gain. So, I am challenging myself and you, if you'd like to take it on: try attending a religious service that is not familiar to you in the next couple of months. Even if you're not religious. Maybe you'll like it, maybe you won't. Then try another one. The point is not to be converted or even to believe something, the point is to notice what gifts you find in being uncomfortable. Yours may be different than mine. If so, I'd love to hear those stories from you.
