As someone who considers herself Christian but hasn't darkened the door of a church for several months, I find this particularly intriguing. I kind of fell away from regular church attendance when I was in college -- the local Episcopal church was far from inspiring, and featured bad preaching and no sense of community. (From my point of view, anyway.) As a teenager I'd been not only a regular attender but a very active volunteer-- acolyting, going to youth group including regional and national conventions, participating in church education programs and organization committees.
Since I've been gone -- that is, not regularly attending any church, though I certainly do go occasionally, most often when home with my parents -- a lot of my views about the world have changed. Some of the things I accepted dogmatically as a child and teenager I've now come to doubt, especially the church's teachings on some aspects of sexual mores, the having of children, and the proper roles of women. This has affected my own personal behavior a little, but in broad outlines I tend to stick with what I was taught. It does make me pretty darned reluctant in judging anyone else, though. From this position I can see clearly lot of things that bother non-Christians about the church especially as an institution: how cold! how judgemental! how smugly self-righteous, how eager to bring everyone in line, how distant from the initial precepts of love for all humanity!
As a student of the ancient world, I can also see a lot of the places from which the less appealing aspects of the church originated: the enforcement of a patriarchal order, the misogyny, the glorification of austerity-- all these and many other things have visible, unmistakable roots either in the prevailing culture of the Greco-Roman world, or in the circumstances that brought pressure on the early church.
At the same time, I am beginning to feel-- more and more acutely -- the need to return to a Christian community more fully. I cannot honestly do so, though, without bringing back with me all my doubts and reservations. To be fair, I was never really the Unquestioning kind; in Sunday school we were supposed to memorize a Bible verse every week and report it back on Sunday. I made a point of memorizing Bible verses that were maximally contentious and problematic, about slavery, obedience to the government, women and family, etc. It was interesting to me to see my teachers squirm at this, but they were decent and thoughtful people and rose to the challenge, generally, though they might have resented my bravado a tiny bit and wished that I'd stick with the Beatitudes. Or the lineage of Jesse, even.
But I feel more troubled now than I did then. On the one hand I appreciate that part of what the church is for is to support its members in a Godly way of life. More than to wag its finger at the rest of the world, I think. Which is a good thing, if only I could be sure I agreed about what that way of life was. Some bits I feel surer about than others.
That's okay, though. The church isn't perfect. I used to think that God wouldn't let the institution of his church go seriously astray; that in that matter, if in no other, he would interfere with a firm divine hand to assure that those who sought him earnestly would be rewarded with trustworthy revelations and a right dogma. Don't believe that any more. I've met too many people seeking God, or whatever moral center they could put a name to; they came in a variety of religions and agnostic and atheist philosophies, and I doubt neither their sincerity nor their worth. And I've also seen too much of how the church messes up in small and large ways.
So the best I can do is approach the institution with the awareness that it is flawed, and that I cannot necessarily find in its teachings a perfect corrective for my own flaws. It's still likely to do me more good than trying to walk the path I have to walk alone.
no subject
Since I've been gone -- that is, not regularly attending any church, though I certainly do go occasionally, most often when home with my parents -- a lot of my views about the world have changed. Some of the things I accepted dogmatically as a child and teenager I've now come to doubt, especially the church's teachings on some aspects of sexual mores, the having of children, and the proper roles of women. This has affected my own personal behavior a little, but in broad outlines I tend to stick with what I was taught. It does make me pretty darned reluctant in judging anyone else, though. From this position I can see clearly lot of things that bother non-Christians about the church especially as an institution: how cold! how judgemental! how smugly self-righteous, how eager to bring everyone in line, how distant from the initial precepts of love for all humanity!
As a student of the ancient world, I can also see a lot of the places from which the less appealing aspects of the church originated: the enforcement of a patriarchal order, the misogyny, the glorification of austerity-- all these and many other things have visible, unmistakable roots either in the prevailing culture of the Greco-Roman world, or in the circumstances that brought pressure on the early church.
At the same time, I am beginning to feel-- more and more acutely -- the need to return to a Christian community more fully. I cannot honestly do so, though, without bringing back with me all my doubts and reservations. To be fair, I was never really the Unquestioning kind; in Sunday school we were supposed to memorize a Bible verse every week and report it back on Sunday. I made a point of memorizing Bible verses that were maximally contentious and problematic, about slavery, obedience to the government, women and family, etc. It was interesting to me to see my teachers squirm at this, but they were decent and thoughtful people and rose to the challenge, generally, though they might have resented my bravado a tiny bit and wished that I'd stick with the Beatitudes. Or the lineage of Jesse, even.
But I feel more troubled now than I did then. On the one hand I appreciate that part of what the church is for is to support its members in a Godly way of life. More than to wag its finger at the rest of the world, I think. Which is a good thing, if only I could be sure I agreed about what that way of life was. Some bits I feel surer about than others.
That's okay, though. The church isn't perfect. I used to think that God wouldn't let the institution of his church go seriously astray; that in that matter, if in no other, he would interfere with a firm divine hand to assure that those who sought him earnestly would be rewarded with trustworthy revelations and a right dogma. Don't believe that any more. I've met too many people seeking God, or whatever moral center they could put a name to; they came in a variety of religions and agnostic and atheist philosophies, and I doubt neither their sincerity nor their worth. And I've also seen too much of how the church messes up in small and large ways.
So the best I can do is approach the institution with the awareness that it is flawed, and that I cannot necessarily find in its teachings a perfect corrective for my own flaws. It's still likely to do me more good than trying to walk the path I have to walk alone.