I owe the Christian Church an apology.

I went to church this morning.

No...let's be more accurate.

Stacy went to church this morning. I followed Stacy because it's Easter and I wanted to be wherever Stacy was. So, I was in a church.

I've had a bit of trouble going to church for the last couple of years. And by, "a little bit of trouble," I mean, I haven't gone. I haven't gone because I'm angry, because I'm a little bitter, and because, deep down, I'm having a hell of a time reconciling my conception of faith with what it is that the churches I've been to spend their weekends talking about. I also haven't gone because I worked in a church...a good church by all accounts...for four years, and I made mistakes that meant prioritizing my job more than my wife and my friends. I didn't want that any more. I didn't want god-sounding-work to mess up my actual life.

So I've been avoiding church pretty adamantly. And being mostly quietly pissed. Walking back into a megachurch this morning, in some ways, felt like crumpling; like walking into an old sore and lying down beneath the loose bits of torn skin.

But I went back because Stacy wanted to go. I'm glad I did. I realized something this morning.

Nothing about this morning's church service was incredible. It was very lightsy-soundy-drama-y, and a lot of people worked really hard to make it happen, but nothing about the service struck me. What struck me was the fact that a lot of people worked really hard to make it happen. People...just like me, just like you. They put a bunch of time and energy and money into putting on this weekend service for me and for Stacy and the other 2000 people there. They created an imperfect service, extolling things I kind of mostly believe in, and sharing ideas they care passionately about and I generally don't buy.

Here's the thing...the Christian Church is a bunch of people. It's me, it's them, it's us.

I've held the Church to such high standards for so long, it was inevitable I would feel let down and disappointed. I built this set of ideals that suggested that other men and women would be able to tell me about the Perfect Unknowable in ways that made sense to me, and that they would do so cleanly, smoothly, and without error, contradiction, or personal foul-ups. I held the Church to an impossible standard, if we're being honest. No one...no human...no group of humans...could possibly meet that standard.

I don't know who to apologize to exactly, so I'm apologizing here. Church, I'm sorry. I'm beginning to realize that my expectations were ridiculous, unrealistic, and more than a little hypocritical. If anyone should understand that the church is just a group of people, it would be a guy who worked at a church for all that time. I'm flawed just as deeply as anyone else, and I'm certain I screwed up the church experience for others during my tenure there. Perhaps even now. And yet, I expected the other people to rise to a standard much higher than that which I can meet. I sought perfection, because, at some level, I didn't distinguish between a Perfect God, and those who are doing their best to follow Him.

I'm sorry, Church. I would never hold others to the standard that I've held you. I wouldn't even hold myself to that standard. It was unfair, and my anger and bitterness are my own product and responsibility, not yours. You deserve the same leeway that all of us flawed and wonderful humans do. Again, I'm sorry.

I have no reason to expect I'm going to be cool with the Church overnight. I certainly don't expect I'm going to start going again right away. Honestly, going to church isn't an end-goal for me...growing in my pursuit of understanding whatever little bits I can about God is. Maybe I'll get there in a church, and maybe I won't. But I hope today adds a bit of much-needed perspective to my criticism of the group of people who claim a knowledge of God through Jesus Christ. They deserve the same grace I do. I will continue to rage, critique, and complain...I know I will. But hopefully I'll at least consider the people before I rail the institution, and hopefully I can continue my search for truth from a more honest and graceful place.

I think the Church deserves at least that. I think I do.

Peace,
Justin