when my church isn't what i'm looking for and that's okay

You know, since leaving home to attend college, I have never found a church in which I fit.

I don't fit here.  I'm too feminist, too cynical, too liberal, too skeptical.  I don't (and won't) hand out tracts, I make fun of Christianity more than I sing its praises, I sometimes wish I could walk out of those doors and never come back.  Church is often more painful than it is salve.

Attending church in my college town was nothing like home.  I didn't fit there because I missed the way things had always been back home.  I attended that church for almost four years and never met a single person.  I walked in and out every week without connection.  And then I moved home again.

I couldn't find it in me to admit the extent of my disagreement when I lived in the Northwest, and the dishonesty I served up week after week was almost enough to tear me apart.  I loved those people, but I couldn't admit to them that I rarely agreed with them.  I led worship and played on the worship team and often felt like I was going against the very fabric of things I believed by doing so, as if I were adding my agreement simply by association.

I'm slowly learning to be honest about my disagreement.  To admit that life is messy, to admit that I don't always see things the same way, to be willing to talk and willing to listen but never willing to simply accept at face value something someone says.  And as I learn to talk about these issues, I'm learning that some things just don't matter.

Dear Church,

I don't really care that you think you and me and the rest of us are gonna be raptured.  We both love Jesus.

I don't really care that you think the world was created in seven twenty-four hour days.  We both love Jesus.

I don't really care that you hand out tracts or are a little too in-your-face for my liking.  That is your way of loving Jesus.

Yes, I care that sometimes you say and do hurtful things.  Sometimes you're uncaring or unthinking.  Sometimes you're racist or sexist.  But I say and do hurtful things at the same rate.  We both are doing our best to love Jesus and being miserable mess-ups at it.

Being a member of the body of Christ means that I won't always agree with you about how to do things, but I will always need you, and we should always be working toward the same goal.  The Kingdom is here among us, the Kingdom is soon to come.  I want to live that reality with you.  I want to love others in Jesus' name with you.  I want to wrestle with the hard questions - truly wrestle with them - with you.

Every week is a struggle.  I'm a cynic, I'm close-minded, I'm easily angered.  I shut down and I judge.  I feel alienated and alone.  These things, although the reality, are not right.  I want to learn to ask the questions without carrying the baggage.  May I learn to love you even if I don't love the things you say and do.  You are not perfect, but none of us are.  In our imperfections Jesus shines all the brighter.  I don't fit with you but then again, I don't fit anywhere.  None of us do.  We're strangers, all of us, trying our best to find our way through this messed up world toward God.

You're not what I'm looking for.  And that's okay.  What I'm looking for isn't what's good for me, anyway.

Your sister,
Marilee