Finding church again

My faith is very important to me but church ... I often struggle with church.

When I first moved out from Carrs Lane, I continued to exist on the edges of it for a while before leaving completely; and actually, since long before that, running Sunday school gave me an excellent excuse to rarely have to sit through a Sunday service.

And then I walked away, and had a bit of a gap where I didn't go to church at all. But this blogpost isn't going to be about all the things I find difficult about the institutional church, of which there are many. 

Rather it is to reflect on the fact that, in some indefinable way, I missed it ... and not just for want of having something to moan about ... because frankly politics provides plenty of material for that!

There is a church a few doors away from where I live now. It is ever so slightly further than I had to travel from the flat to the church room, and I can't quite justify going in my slippers, at least not at this time of year, but I could probably roll out of bed fifteen minutes before the service starts and still make it on time.

I think partly, as I am aware I am intending to live here for the foreseeable future, I want in some way to connect to, belong in this local community and church may be one way of doing that. I think also, for all the failings of the church, I do, it turns out, sort of want to be part of a faith community.

And so, after moving in, I went along. My intention was to slip in quietly at the back, get a feel for whether it was somewhere I might want to attend, wander away again if it wasn't, perhaps try somewhere else. I took the total attendance that morning to 8. I was never going to be anonymous or unnoticed.  

In many ways it is, as you would perhaps expect or hope for a congregation that size, very informal. The chairs are in a semi-circle around the altar, I have heard the person leading ask who wants to do a reading just before the service starts, and even ask what hymn we should sing next part way through. Some of the reflections or sermons have felt very conversational in style. And yet in the midst of that informality, there is also a sense of reverence and prayerfulness which feels fitting.   

There is value in going somewhere new. It has made me think about the fact that I have definitely spent time in churches where that balance has felt the opposite (and to me at least wrong) way round: a lot of formality of styles or structures, but somehow without managing to create an atmosphere of prayerful reverence. 

I am not particularly musical: my vague attempts at learning an instrument as a child were never very successful and although I did sing in a church choir when I was younger, I'm under no illusions that they weren't exactly picky; and I know that my leading of the singing assemblies and school choir at one of the schools I taught at was far more to do with being able to command a hall full of kids with energy and enthusiasm than to do with musical ability! Lack of talent not withstanding, I do really enjoy singing with other people. Church is one of the few places, at least in my experience, where that is a thing and although I hadn't really realised I'd missed it, I was glad to be back sharing in that experience. 

The church is a joint URC / Anglican one, but the liturgy I have experienced there so far has been predominantly Anglican. It is a long time since I have regularly attended an Anglican church (and aside from my general issues with church I have plenty of specific complaints about the Church of England!) and yet I think I may have to admit to something reassuring and warm in the familiarity of words, prayers and responses which, many years later, still roll off my tongue. Perhaps, for all my recognition of the richness of the different churches which have fed me and expanded my understanding and experience of my faith over the years, I am more deeply rooted in a tradition than I care to admit.

With a congregation of about a dozen, max, there is certainly nowhere to hide, but as far as I can tell, no-one is trying to. I was greeted by a slightly shocked (but not unfriendly) sounding "you came back!" when I appeared the second time. I have been only a handful of times. There may be people I haven't met yet, but I think I have had at least a brief conversation with all those I have. Most of them know my name, I know many of theirs. I suspect most of them have known each other for years but they have drawn me into conversations and made me feel welcomed and included.

All in all, it feels like it might just suit me.

It is early days. I'm sure before long I will find plenty of things which irritate me. But for now, I am glad to be back.