Why We Don't Talk About Church
Wait - is anyone here religious?
It’s the follow-up to a slightly off-colored joke. But everyone is talking and the conversation has moved on. I shrug.
I’m what most people would consider religious, but I’m not easily offended.
That’s my response. It was the same way I responded when someone noticed a C.S. Lewis book on my shelf. And when a group was poking fun at someone else’s perceived conservatism. And when someone questioned the tradition of praying before a meal.
It had become normal to “shrug off” my religion. I had left the comfort of the Bible belt and was making my own way in the world. I was going the way of liberal hippies, living out of my car and camping my way across the northeast. The people I met felt like “my people” (the sort that bake bread in stone ovens, appreciate dark skies filled with stars, pursue ethically sourced meat, etc), but at the same time they felt so foreign. Our experiences with work and relationships and family had been colored so differently...everything I did had the backdrop of religiosity.
When you live in a city or town with a church on every corner, it’s easy to talk about church affiliation. You can drop a comment into a conversation with someone at the gym or at a bar, and no one bats an eye. It makes sense. Even if your friends or your boss aren’t religious, they’ll understand when you have moral convictions or opt out of Sunday shifts. Because it’s just so common.
But when you spend time in a place like Maine or New Hampshire, it’s a little bit harder to talk about faith. It’s easier to keep your faith a private part of your life - reading your Bible when no one else is around, not seeking out a church community, letting slightly offensive jokes slide. You don’t want to be the weird person, the one who gets side-ways glances or ruins the fun. Instead, you clam up.
At least that’s what I did. I could rationalize it because everything was temporary. Pretty soon, I would move on to a new place and new people. No one needed to know about my faith. It wouldn’t have any long-term consequences because the relationships were short-term.
Then I decided to move to Vermont.
Got a real job, a bed, a new bank account, the works. This wouldn’t be temporary. There would be long-term consequences for my actions and my words and my relationships. And it started in my kitchen (because that’s where everything wonderful begins).
I arrived in Vermont on January 6, 2020. I moved into a room that I found on Craigslist. The house was already inhabited by a couple of guys and a couple of cats. It’s a far cry from every place I’ve ever lived.
It was my first Saturday night in Vermont. My roommate asked if I wanted to go to yoga on the next morning.
Umm, actually...I think I’m going to visit a church.
He stared at me. Confused. Church was not part of his vocabulary. And definitely not part of his community. He blinked a couple of times and shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t bothered, but he was definitely curious.
Once you find the best church around here, I’ll go with you.
I definitely did not expect that sort of response. But I shrugged and went along with it. Over the next few days, he continued to ask questions. He wanted to know what I thought made a “good” church or a “bad” church. We talked about my history with churches and what I hope to gain from a church. Occasionally he made jokes, but he remained genuinely interested in my experience with faith. And he wanted to hear all about the church that I visited on that first Sunday morning.
I say this as though it’s past tense...but this story is ongoing. My roommate continues to ask bizarre, unexpected questions about faith and I continue to battle the need to shove my faith down into a little pocket of myself. And I don’t really know what to do with any of that! But I find comfort in these words:
Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in ever respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. (Hebrews 4: 14-16)
I warned you that I don’t have any answers. I want to reassure you, though, that we serve a God of grace. Yes, he wants us to shout his name from the rooftops and wear our passion for him on our sleeves. But, He understands. Even so, it is not an excuse to stay silent or hide your beliefs…hide the Light in you, because this world needs Him, and He is in you.
Maybe your faith is new to you and you don’t know how to talk about it. Or maybe it just seems like such a part of you that you don’t even need to talk about it. Maybe you’ve moved to a new place and you no longer know how to identify yourself. Wherever you are with your faith, rest assured that God has grace for you…
...but there is more to it.
But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have become convinced of, because you know those from whom you learned it, and how from infancy you have known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work. (2 Timothy 3: 14-17)
My prayer for you (and myself, most days) is that I can rest assured that I am loved by God...but also that I pursue words and actions that will help others understand the power of that love.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Mary Elizabeth spent the past six years doing life in Nashville, TN…from grad school to working in a pie shop to running after school programs. But then she got a little antsy. She’s currently in a season of “wandering”…exploring the people, tastes and experiences that the country has to offer. As she set out on this journey her hope was to engage with people in more authentic ways and to hike everything possible. If you're curious about where she is and what she's up to, visit sunsetsstormclouds.home.blog.