Evening Epilogue: Day 6 (God’s Lost Son) 18/90
Good evening,
Today was my first time going to church in a while. The last time was actually at the end of the fall/beginning of summer when I finally accepted the offer of my friend April, who had been inviting me for the longest. Anyway, once I decided to take this spiritual journey and fast, I figured it’d make sense to add church to the routine as well. I mean, what’s the point in talking about praying and fasting if you’re not going to go all the way and actually enter the house of the Lord?
I have an interesting relationship with organized religion. I went to Catholic school for 12 years (yeah, elementary and high school), so growing up, church was a steady part of my life. Furthermore, my grandpa, who was my father figure, was very religious and even held Bible study class in his basement with a few neighborhood friends. But once my grandfather passed away and I graduated high school, my connection to the church began to wane. Still, I believe that a child’s formative years have a direct influence on their adulthood. While I may not attend church regularly or remember to pray before every meal, I like to think of myself as spiritual more than religious.
I believe in a Higher Power and try my best to live a positive life and give thanks to God when things are good and say a silent prayer when times are bad. I’m not going to lie and say it’s an everyday thing, but I do try to communicate with God outside of just when I’m in need. I don’t like being a fair-weather friend, and especially not with God. It’s that kind of thinking that actually kept me out of church for so long.
Over the years I’ve gone to church for special occasions like my siblings’ baptism or communion, someone’s wedding or the baptism of my best friend’s daughter, but aside from that I haven’t gone much. See, of the churches I’ve gone to, it seemed as if the people were going for the wrong reasons, like to show off their best clothes, because it was a religious holiday or just to say they went while they lived sinful the other six days of the week. I never wanted to be one of those people. I held on to the idea that it’s the actual people that make up a church not the building they congregate in. But that little belief doesn’t mean much when I don’t practice my spirituality regularly on my own. So, damn, am I any different than the poseurs that I so desperately wanted to avoid becoming?
With all that in mind, I built up a certain level of guilt when it comes to church. The times that I’ve gone in my adult years, I’ve never taken part in communion because, for lack of a better word, I feel “unworthy” of receiving it. So when the communion plate came around today and I refused the offering, April asked why. At first I said because I’m fasting, but when she argued that communion shouldn’t interfere with my fast because it’s a religious practice (we both have to double check that one), but ultimately it boiled down to me not feeling “worthy.”
Now when I say I don’t feel “worthy” it’s not about me feeling like a big sinner. Sure, I have sinned and I’ll probably sin again, but I’d like to believe that I’m still a good person and when and if I make it to the Pearly Gates, my good actions will outweigh my bad ones. It’s just I feel like my connection to God isn’t as strong as it should be or could be and I feel funny partaking in that until my heart is in it more. Does that make more (or any) sense?
Whatever the case, I’m still on this spiritual/personal journey to find out more about myself, perhaps when it’s all said and done I will have found a better relationship with God along the way. That’s not saying I’m looking to be all super-religious, but just to a point where I’ll feel more worthy.
Amen.
… and stopped taking communion and going regularly.
I believe, from what I’ve read thus far, you’re already on your path, even if you don’t realize it. Food for thought…
“Evening Epilogue: Day 6 (God’s Lost Son) 18/90”