I Don't Like Going to Church

I don’t like going to church.

Some of you just wrote a whole sermon in your head after reading that and would like to preach it to me at the earliest possible opportunity. But I’m going to ask you to hear me out. File that sermon away for now. If you still feel compelled to preach it after reading to the end then, by all means, reach out to me and we can scheduled a time for that. However, the reality remains, I simply don’t like going to church. Here are some of the reasons why:

I’m an introvert. Being in any size crowd where there is one or more people I don’t already know well is not my thing. I avoid going to most public places as often as I can get away with it for that same reason.

I struggle with anxiety in crowded places. Most of the time it’s just an undercurrent of feeling anxious and awkward but there have been occasions where it has turned into a full-blown panic attack and I have to flee the scene because I literally feel that I can’t breathe the air there anymore.

I struggle with feelings of loneliness and depression. Sometimes I can point to something currently happening in my life that I know is causing these feelings but, most days, I can’t. The feelings are just there and no amount of prayer or self-talk or listening to inspirational music, etc., changes how I feel. Perhaps it is one of those thorns that God is saying doesn’t need to be removed from my life because His grace is sufficient. Perhaps it’s a thorn that God is saying He wants to remove but not until the timing is right. I don’t know. I just know that it’s something I’ve lived with most of my life and, most Sundays, there is no more lonely feeling than walking into church.

It’s not that I’m always physically alone. Sometimes I’m surrounded by family and friends. Sometimes I enter the church door physically alone. Either way, I often feel a crushing weight of loneliness in church. For the record, this feeling isn’t exclusive to being in church. I experience it in many settings. But there is something about the quite reverence of church that causes me to become more tuned in to whatever it is I’m feeling in the moment. More often than not, that feeling is best described as lonely. It’s not church that is causing the feeling, it’s just that church is a place where I become more aware of the feeling.

When I wake up on a Sunday morning an anxious, lonely voice inside my head starts up almost immediately. You really aren’t feeling the best today; probably a good idea if you stay home and just watch the service on-line. No one at church really cares if you show up or not and, even if they do care a little, they won’t notice you’re not there. You’re already feeling anxious this morning, you don’t want to risk the embarrassment of one of those panic attacks where you have to get up and walk out just to get somewhere that you can breathe again. And besides, you can commune with God better when you’re alone anyway.

That last one seems especially hard to deny. Maybe other people experience this too, or maybe it’s just the way my mind works but when I am at church, I’m almost constantly distracted by all the people around me. I’ll probably come back to this in another post later on. For now, it’s enough to say that I often feel like it’s a constant battle in my head to remember why I’m at church in the first place. I’m too busy wondering if the people around me will like me or just think I’m weird. And then that little voice in my head raises the stakes. You don’t belong here. Not really. You’re not like the rest of the people here. They actually fit in here, but you never will.

Which brings me back to my opening statement. I don’t like going to church. However, with that said, I go to church regularly. Why? Because even though I don’t like going to church, I like having been at church.

I don’t know why all of the above things are true about me. I do know that I’ve spent way too much of my life wishing I could change everything about myself and be someone else. I’d love to never feel lonely, or anxious, or distracted in church. I’d love to bound out of bed on Sunday mornings and not hear that voice in my head that says I should just stay home because I don’t really belong at church. But the thing is, I am who I am and I’m learning to accept, even love, that person. Though a peaceful Sunday morning with no anxiety, feelings of not belonging, or battling that voice in my head seems like it would be preferable, perhaps the battle is necessary.

Without the battle, if everything was calm and easy and peaceful, I might believe I’m a better person. But would I be? The struggle drives me to think more deeply, wrestle with the questions of life more determinedly and, perhaps most importantly, have more compassion for others on life’s journey. Would I trade my journey for an easier one? There are days when I’m tempted to say that I would. But the reality is, I know it’s my specific journey, my specific set of circumstances, trials, burdens, oddities, etc., that drive me to keep seeking. And I’d rather be a seeker after truth than a contented soul going through religious motions that never impact my heart, even when the impact leaves wounds.

I’d rather experience the deep wounds of loneliness and depression than go through life oblivious to the wounded people around me. I wouldn’t trade a single wound for those moments when I connect deeply with God or others. In those moments of deep connection, I’m reminded that the wounds of Christ have healing power for us all. So, while I don’t often like the process of going to church and wrestling with my internal demons, I pretty much always enjoy having been to church.

So, I will keep going. Not because the going is easy, but precisely because it’s not. Going may be a battle, but having been is growth because I always leave with a word from God that gives me hope and strength and faith to keep on seeking. No, I don’t like going to church, but I do like having been and that’s okay.