I skipped church last Sunday. I wasn’t sick or out of town, and I didn’t have a scheduling conflict. I simply decided not to go. Instead, while the kids slept in, I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, slid on my running shoes and slipped out the front door. I jogged down the bike path with the sun warm on the back of my neck and the sound of birdsong in my ears.
Fifteen years ago, when I started attending church regularly again after a two-decade hiatus from both religion and faith, I couldn’t get enough of it. I sprang out of bed every Sunday morning, eager to immerse myself in the worship experience. I drank in every part of the service, from the scripture readings and the sermon to the hymns and the communal prayers, like I was drinking a tall glass of cold water on a scorching August day. I loved the anticipation I felt almost every time I opened my Bible or walked through the church doors. The weekly ritual of liturgy and community became the rich soil in which my faith grew and flourished.
More recently, though, I admitted to my husband that attending church has come to feel less imperative. While I’m always glad I went, and I am especially grateful for my church community, which nudges me out of my comfortable places to connect with people whom I might not ordinarily cross paths, the truth is, the spiritual practice of weekly worship doesn’t enliven me like it once did.
In some ways this feels like a loss. I miss the freshness of my new faith. I miss the energy that zinged through my heart, mind and soul on Sunday mornings. I miss feeling invigorated and inspired after nearly every church service, eager to do my small part in furthering God’s kingdom on Earth.
At the same time, though, I am aware that both my experience of church and my faith itself, while mellower and a little less sparkly, have also matured into something deeper and wider.
My understanding of church and God is less contained. There is an openness and an expansiveness to my faith that feels right in this season of my life. And I know this faith that is both more grounded and more expansive has its roots in all those years of weekly church. Those 15 years of Sundays are the foundation upon which my faith of today continues to change and grow.
Last Sunday morning as I ran along the bike trail, I prayed for friends facing health challenges, for loved ones traveling overseas and for people I know who are grieving, lost and lonely.
I inhaled the scent of freshly mowed grass and noticed the orange flash of an Oriole swooping overhead.
I smiled and huffed a breathless “good morning!” to the runners, dog walkers and cyclists traveling in the opposite direction.
I gave thanks for the cool breeze on my face and for a body that can run (albeit less quickly than it used to).
Last Sunday morning I didn’t sing hymns or pray aloud in unison with others. There was no bread and no wine, no scripture read, no sermon preached. I didn’t wear heels or mascara or sit in a pew. But there was communion, peace, prayers and the presence of God.
Last Sunday morning, out running on the trail, I was at church.
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Lived this!!! It’s do true. Your journey if faith sounds much like mine. Thanks for sharing this!
Beautiful.
You’re not alone! I’ve had times like this too. One thing that I miss when I don’t go to church is the fellowship of other believers. I’m surrounded by so many who are not Christian in my daily life. So I look forward to being with likeminded people. It helps me face each day.
Michelle:
Thanks for your honest sharing of the need to skip our weekly attendance at Church and discover the variety of ways to worship. On the whole I like to attend weekly, it gives a focus and a start to my week, gets me out socializing with other believers, I enjoy the singing and most of the messages. (When I lead a pre-school children’s group, I get a CD copy of the service and enjoy listening to it in the car.) But I also like to skip at times. I had a bad cold this past weekend. It was good to go out for a stroll with my husband on the lakeshore of Lake Ontario to get in touch with nature, witness the changes with rising water levels, see numerous birds, be out in public with others enjoying the same things. I have mixed feelings with continuing with a Bible Study Group, somewhat bored at times, yet enjoy the small group atmosphere and connecting and reflecting with what is going on in the world, others and our our lives.
I can relate.
While I totally agree sometimes we may need a quiet Sunday morning on our own to reflect on God’s goodness and our own relationship with Him, I noticed you said those years of Sunday School was the foundation of your faith. Just a question: if you were to continue not to go to church, will your children have that foundation for their faith. That is my only concern about many who are leaving church behind saying their faith is strong. But how did their faith get that way? And will their children have that faith if they do not take them to church?
Thank you ! This resonates with me and I appreciate your openness . I work 12 hour night shifts and many weekend’s . I had to miss church a lot. I stopped feeling like I was part of that faith family. Now, I am more apt to sit at my kitchen table to do my devotions and pray, or take it outside to my special spot where I am surrounded by God’s natural beauty. It’s quiet, peaceful and feeds my spirit. I think it is just the season of my life and yours too, where we are connecting to God in different way. Church is not just a building and organized worship.
Thank you so much for your article. I love your insight and beautiful pictures .