One Sunday morning after I heard I was losing my cute little house and felt like I needed a safe place to go, I surprised myself and joined my mom at her church. And then I went back - several times now.
It's a tiny "Community" church (actually Baptist, but not really advertising it). Very casual and intimate. Enthusiastic young minister. Lots of music. Relatively diverse population, though I stick out as the sole representative of my particular demographic - without kids or gray hair. This whole impulse has made me think of rekindling my long abandoned "church shopping" to Unity/Unitarian type churches thinking they would fit me better, but this one has stuck so far.
I'm still not convinced by the whole Jesus thing. Sitting there, I wrestle with the uncomfortable memories of my own blind enthusiasm about Christianity growing up and with feeling limited by this one point of view. But I've long suspected it is mostly the language that I stumble over. So much about the themes, ideas, and human experience are universal. So I try translating as I listen... God=the life force of the universe. Bible=one form of ancient wisdom. Prayer=energy/meditation/reflection. And that gets me pretty far.
Don't worry, my social and political liberalism are still fully in tact. And psychoanalysis will probably always be my first line of defense when trying to figure out issues of life/love/soul. I am just feeling drawn to looking for other kinds of wisdom as well. A place to think and talk about it. How to exist in the world. How to love and be loved. To connect with things greater than my own problems. Be part of community, with people of all stages of life. And sharing an important connection with my mom feels wonderful.
Not sure what it means yet or how long it will last. But it feels good for the moment. And I may have just signed up to sing in the choir...
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