Church...

A friend posted this question on her Facebook status yesterday; what is your definition of Church?  And I replied that I didn’t have enough space to answer that that I would have to Blog about it.  Because really, I have no clue who cares, if anyone, how I feel about the topic, but if someone does care, they can read my Blog and not be forced to read it on Facebook.

Politics, religion, same sex issues, rape, abortion…I tend to stay away from those topics because they are truly very personal and emotional topics that differ vastly from person to person.  I am not a fool to believe that any of my thoughts on any of these issues are the right thoughts or the wrong thoughts.  That takes a very brazen person to think that.  And if a person does that to me, insists that their beliefs about a certain topic are the right way or whatever, that said person is destined to never be my friend, or someone I will care very much about.  I care about a person who DOES believe a certain way, but who respects others who may not.  Who is not afraid to express how they feel about something, but who is also not foolish enough to think that EVERYONE must feel that way too.  I love when people feel differently about something.  It’s not because it causes conflict, it’s because it opens my eyes to something I may have not bothered to look at before.  Not all people are capable of this.

The question was not who you call God, or define God, as would require a whole separate blog entirely for me.  There are so many religions, worshiping different Gods, calling him different names.  I am no one to specify which one is the right one or wrong one.  To each their own.  The question was what your definition of Church is.

Church meant something to me many years ago, that it does not mean now.  I can tell you this:

I was born, raised, baptized and Confirmed a Catholic, attending Mass regularly until about the year 1998.  I stopped attending Mass when my Grandmother passed away, who was a devout Catholic.  I was incredibly mad at God.  For all the wrong reasons, but it is what it is.  It was also this time in my life that I realized who I was and that my Church, my Faith, my beliefs since the moment I could remember what that even meant, not only did not condone my lifestyle, but also specified that I would go to Hell for it.  Ummmm, ok?  You know this how?  You “think” you know this, because someone taught this.  You don’t KNOW this because no one died, went to Hell and came back and said that this was fact.  It was about this time in my life that I started to realize that there was more than one Religion.  On just about every street corner you would find a different Church.  Mormon (well not on street corners, they would take up a block,) Baptist, Methodist, Catholic, etc. etc.  So many.  Why so many?  Well, because we are all different and we have a choice.  For the most part, until we can make that decision ourselves, it is made for us, i.e. whatever your parents are or believe in.  Are you serious?  I could believe in God but not be Catholic?  That was like winning the lottery.  Are you sure?  Because apparently I am going to Hell because the very God I believe in and who created me, does not believe in me or my choices.  Hmmmm?  Interesting.  Why the heck have I praying to someone who doesn’t even consider me one of his gifts.  He made me right?  Or did he not?  He didn’t if I am a certain way?  Are you sure?

This brought more questions than answers.  But regardless I stopped attending services.  I could certainly not sit through a mass with a group of people who considered me a hypocrite.  Could they tell I was “different,” uh, no, I don’t drive a Gay car or wear Gay clothes…so why not just go and not tell anyone?  Now to me, that is being a hypocrite.  I sure was not going to sit in an elaborate ornate building worshipping a God who was going to obviously send me to Hell.  No, I do not all think all Catholics believe this.  My family has been very accepting of me, and they still attend the Catholic Church.  That is all I care about.  How or who they worship or where is none of my concern.

“Church” left a bad taste in my mouth.  I did attend several different churches with several different friends over the years, but to be brutally honest, never was one to “follow” a large group.  I didn’t NEED that companionship or camaraderie if you will.  I found talking to God, in my own way, in my own places, made me feel closer to him than attending a service.  The God I was taught to believe in, taught to trust as the one who created the world and me, I don’t feel is the same person or entity that “intended” for us to build these elaborate buildings to worship him.  Call me a fool, I have been called worse.  It is just how I feel.  I don’t believe he cares what we wear.  I think he cares that we gather.  That we talk to him, that we pray, that we let him in our lives.  I don’t think he meant for there to be rules as to where you could do that, how you could do it or what days were most appropriate. 

Let me be very clear when I say, I appreciate and respect anyone who attends any Church regularly.  I am jealous if you want the truth, of you having that consistency in your lives, of believing in something so strongly that it’s just a part of your life.  I watch people daily, who do so much for their Churches within their communities and I am blown away.  I find it fascinating.  I am also not one of those people.  I am sorry, I am just not.  I find God EVERYWHERE.  Through EVERYONE.  In so many things.  At least the God I believe in.   Would I say he was happy with my choices in life?  Doubtful.  But if created this masterpiece, then he also created Free Will.  I have friends and family that depend on the Church.  Need it in their lives.  The Methodist Church in Maquon, which is where I go if I do attend a service, which is not often, has me currently on their prayer list due to my recent accident.  I think that is amazing.  That is what I call embracing and loving all of God’s creatures, I am a member of their community.  They are or are not praying on me based on my attendance at Church.  I love that people from all over are praying for me to get better.  That they have been and will continue to.  I know they don’t wait until they are in a Church to do that.  I think they talk to God wherever they are, whatever moment they may find out I need a prayer. 

I appreciate and respect all Churches.  I appreciate and respect all who attend them, regularly or irregularly.  I am envious of your Church families.  So why don’t I go find one?  That is harder to explain and I will when or if I am ready.  I don’t like being told to do something.  I like to find it my own way.  I have never seen God, but I have felt him.  And every single solitary time I have?  It was not in a Church.  I think that is how he would want it.  To be felt everywhere.  Yes in the wind, in the sun, in the rain…but more importantly when there is tremendous sadness, or happiness, he is there.  I do not understand him sometimes.  I don’t get some things he does.  It is not my place to understand him.  I didn’t stop believing in him because I don’t understand.  And I didn’t stop believing in him because My Church told me I was going to Hell.  And I certainly didn’t stop believing in him when I stopped going to Church. 

Janet Windish?  I don’t know if this answers your question or not, but it is certainly how I feel about it.  Probably more than you were looking for!