Missing Church

I did not go to church Sunday, the first day of the New Year.  I simply could not go.  I could not stand and recite a creed I no longer believe.  I could not participate in a sacrament that grows ever more ludicrous and barbarian to me.  I could not hear one more sermon based on a book of fantasies.  I just couldn’t in good conscience go to church.

And yet, I am sad.  I miss being there.  It is the people I miss.  The men and women and boys and girls whom I only see on Sundays.  They are good, likeable people, though I believe they talk to imaginary friends and live in never-never land.  I miss the music.  I love Christmas carols even if the Christmas story has become a fairy tale to me.  I miss singing in the choir.  I miss my friends.  And in many ways I miss the routine, the liturgy.  I love to sing the Doxology, I just do not believe the words anymore.  I love to sing the Gloria Patria but do not believe the words anymore.  When I go, I go to sing.

And singing what I do not believe is not a problem for me.  I sing,” Up on the Housetop” and “Here Comes Santa Clause” and “I am a Rock, I am an Island”, etc., etc.  It is the music, not the belief system that I endorse.  If I could only sing music that fits with my belief system I would have to sacrifice most of Bach and Beethoven and Wesley choral music.  I would have to sacrifice Christmas carols.  I would have to sacrifice most patriotic music.  I would have to sacrifice many tunes from Broadway musicals.  On and on.  I believe it is OK to sing songs with fantasy lyrics or lyrics that are based on a false belief system.  I am not endorsing the belief system, I am singing the music.

If members of the church knew I had lost my faith would they ask me to leave?  Would they pray for me?  Would they grow hostile?  I am not sure.  Some would be angry.  Some would be scared.  Some would be supportive.  I simply do not know. 

But until I can sing again I will not go.