
I've found church life really hard since we moved here. We have pretty much decided that the independent evangelical church (does that need capitals? Independent Evangelical??) that we've been attending is not for us.
Dad has completely different reasons from me, though stemming from the same issues, if that makes sense. He has only belatedly come to this decision. I've felt that way for some time. Probably since we started really if I'm honest. The last time we went was Boxing Day, and I felt like a tonne weight was sitting on me the whole way through, kind of oppressive. So I'm relieved he's agreeing with me, though he'd never use such imagery as tonne weights.
Part of my problem, not his, is that I've become friends with several gay people. I didn't really give the issue much thought before, if I'm totally honest it got my hackles up when people at church said it was wrong, but since it wasn't relevant I didn't think too long or too hard. Now actually talking to people, who actually don't really want to be gay, they just are, has led me to question and dig into the Bible and church traditions.
I've found
this blog a source of help.
That wasn't the only thing. The whole setup was just too rigid. We can't follow rules and get into heaven that way. sure they preached Redemption through the Blood of Jesus...but with a clear understanding that to be saved, once you'd accepted Jesus you had to keep all these rules. And I just can't. I never could. I'm fully dependent on Jesus, and if he wasn't who he is he'd say 'go away disgusting slime ball' to me. But he died for slime balls. So I plod on. My relationship with him is struggling though, I feel a bit burdened down with it all. Too much going on. too much to think about.
I'd quite like to go back to my Anglican roots. Dad's not keen though, it's too alien for him. I spent three and a half precious years in an Anglican church starting at age 14. I accepted Jesus and worshipped him there. I grew up there really, I was a very young 14 so made the transition from child to young adult, with the adolescent years in between. I've visited my Village Parish Church a few times recently and the words are so comforting and familiar, and if you stop and think about them, meaningful.
Plus my gay friends would be officially welcomed and not asked to stop practising.
Anyway, today we didn't go anywhere this morning, then this evening I felt the need to go somewhere to worship, so I decided I'd pop back along to Dewsbury Minster, where we went to see the cribs the other day. I snuck in wanting to remain anonymous, and sat next to the lovely crib on stilts from Laos, pic above. But unfortunately I'd forgotten one crucial thing about Anglicanism.
Part way through, like it or not, you have to turn and shake hands with every Tom Dick and Harry around you, and wish them peace.
Well, technically there's no obligation. But you'd stand out far more if you either ran, or sat down with your hands in your lap glaring and making it clear you didn't wish to take part!
Not that I didn't wish everyone the Lord's peace, don't get me wrong. But oh, dear me. I had to really become part of it, not a stranger in the corner.
Anyway, another thing I hadn't factored in was that Yorkshire people are just so, so lovely. And down to earth. So it really wasn't a problem, all these nice folk looking genuinely pleased to see me. The Head Honcho Minster Vicar (hang on, looking up his proper term..) ahem - the Rector even came from the front to shake my hand and say it was lovely to have me! The men who were singing behind were extremely friendly.
Then of course, as happens in the most undesirable of circumstances, all my cards fell out of my purse when I was digging for cash for the collection. Blush. I was so glad then that we'd had the Peace, and I knew these folk were OK, weren't all that likely to be looking on in scorn!
Then we all shuffled forward for Communion. The worship was amazing throughout, after they'd received the choir sang something in harmony.
I have to say that, sitting down, I felt the Presence of God for the first time in ages. I'd like to go back. I probably will sometime.
The Vicar who'd taken the service shook my hand on the way out and I was then obliged to say something about why I was there. In a nice way, she just kind of enquired 'Have we met?'
Thankfully 'I came to see the cribs and I liked it here' seemed to satisfy her and I was able to leave, friendly Yorkshire folk saying goodnight of course.
So, I have no idea what's going to happen as I try to plod on with God. But I had a lovely time tonight, feel very blessed by that.