A Place to Belong
looking for community in a church i am afraid to enter
I drive past a church every morning. It looks more like a really big house than a church, save for the big cross on the roof and the lettering on the facade that says CA, which stands for Christ Alive. It’s a Jesus centered church where people gather to learn how to live Christ-like lives in service to others. I know this because I have gone to their website and their Facebook page several times. Every time I drive past Christ Alive church, I feel like it’s calling out to me.
I grew up Catholic. Did years of religious education before I was enrolled in a Catholic high school in 9th grade and got all my religion needs there. I left the church in 1980, right after I graduated, when I decided that believing in God was a fool’s errand. I did not miss church or religion at all. I think I never cared enough to really get something out of it. The only thing that interested me was the life of Jesus Christ, an interest that was propped up by hundreds of viewings of Jesus Christ, Superstar. I believed very much in the idea of Jesus as a human being who just wanted to better the world. Things got away from him, sure, but his intentions were pure and noble. I just wasn’t much for the idea of an all-seeing, invisible God who created the world and human beings.
In 1996, I separated from my first husband. I felt lost after the separation, and was looking for something to guide me, to make me feel whole again. I decided to give God and church another try. I had two young children and I dragged them to church with me every Sunday. I prayed, I knelt and stood and followed the rituals and sang the songs and received communion. And it all felt so good. I felt like I belonged there, that I was among friends with common interests. I was devoting my life to something bigger than me, and that made me feel less sad, less despaired. I was no longer the most important thing in my life; my happiness or sadness was insignificant. God was my main man. Jesus was my co-pilot. I felt like I was put on this planet to do good, to help others, to serve Christ.
I started a weekly parenting group at the church. I worked for community outreach. I taught religious ed. I felt like I had found my space in the world, I found my meaning within this small community church. It wasn’t until I started attending the business meetings of the church that all those feelings began to wane. I learned at those meetings that the bottom line was money. Everything was about money. When the main priest took me aside and told me I wasn’t giving enough to the church monetarily, I was confused and angry. I gave so much of my time, my heart, my very being to the church. That wasn’t enough? I had a major crisis of faith and left the church and God behind once again.
What I still miss about the church was the sense of community I found there. It was a place where people welcomed me, where I was needed and wanted and made an impact. I felt loved and cherished. I felt like I belonged somewhere. I am once again at a place in my life where I’m feeling lost and alone and I know that’s why Christ Alive church, with its unassuming house and welcome sign, calls to me. What’s inside there, I wonder. What goes on in there? I imagine a group of people all working together to make their community a better place. I imagine them supporting each other, reaching out to people who need help, gathering together to live their lives as disciples of Jesus Christ. There are days I feel like I want that. I want to live that life. I want to be a better person, a whole person, a person with meaning who puts the words of Jesus into action. I long for that life, for the fulfillment I experienced when I was in church in the late 90s.
I think about showing up one Sunday and saying “I’m new here, please guide me” and then being swooped up by welcoming arms and hearts. But I am afraid to do this. I don’t know anyone in this church and I don’t have what it takes to just show up there one day. There’s also that pesky little bit about me not being sure about my belief in God. I don’t not believe in him, but I do not believe in him just the same. It’s complicated.
So I’ll drive past Christ Alive church every day, knowing that what’s inside those doors is something I am craving, something I need, but also knowing that I really don’t belong there. I don’t know where else to go to find that community I am craving, to find a feeling of belonging, of doing things that make me worthy of living this life. There has to be something out there, somewhere I belong. Maybe Christ Alive is it, maybe I will work up the nerve to enter its doors. If not, I will keep searching.