8am. General Education science course. Senior year of college.
The professor had been opening every class with a sermon—or what I would consider a sermon. Though I disagreed with many things he said, I had listened intently and been patient for the class material to surface, which usually occurred about 10 minutes into every class. Being an avid learner, I usually try to glean any usable knowledge or wisdom from words given me, but near the end of the semester, all the tidbits of rubbish (mostly about how important it was to wear a tie to church) had accumulated, and I really struggled to a.) stay awake, or b.) keep my thoughts to myself.
One morning, I went to class to discover a surprise presentation was awaiting us: photo after photo of aborted babies.
My chest felt like it would explode. My mouth felt like it actually needed to be zipped up and locked to keep me from shouting. That experience was one of the most unloving and impersonal that I have ever had. Of all the students in the lecture hall, this had to be excruciating for someone other than myself. If not, the professor’s choice was still, in the very least, distasteful. I snatched up my backpack, slid past the rest of the row, and got out as quickly as my pounding heart could take me.
The decision to evacuate “churches” felt very much the same. I had witnessed so much rubbish that I truly thought I might spontaneously combust. I came to the conclusion that watching “churches” was as detrimental to my overall wellbeing as watching reality television. I had seen too much, and since I couldn’t turn it off with a button, I had to leave.
And so, for the last six months or so, my husband and I have not been “going to church.” We wonder if “going” to the Church is even possible, but we are beyond certain that “being” the Church is. We have encountered diverse responses to this. Some acted like we had never left. (It took five months for anyone to even mention it, which I’ll discuss in a later entry.) Some seem to be upset and/or concerned for us. A very few seem to understand. I guess all the responses are justifiable in that everyone comes from a different viewpoint.
About a month ago, we tried to go back to a church we’d attended before. On the way there, we agreed at the same time that we shouldn’t go. Call that what you will and give it reasons you want. Either way, we turned around and headed back home. On the way, we saw a yellow VW Beetle with a single yellow sign across the back window that read: Just Follow Jesus. I wanted to chase her down and find out who she was just to know that someone else got it. But that would have defeated the purpose of her sign. Don’t follow her. Don’t follow churches. Don’t follow doctrine and/or trends. Just. Follow. Jesus.
Everyone has their viewpoint. I have mine, which I do not claim is “The Way” in which you should go. Only Jesus is The Way. Just follow Jesus.
I’m finished with the rubbish.