find a church and stick there

I don’t know if I’m sure what it even means anymore to be a part of a church, and I’m not sure if that’s even terribly important to me. It can end up looking rather… corporate.

I moved a month or so ago, and though the church I’d been attending stood for some good things, it’s now a 30 minute drive, and still big and somewhat impersonal.

These days I walk to a church that I used to attend, one with lots of old people and young families, and very few people my age. But it feels comfortable and safe—small, unassuming, more like just a group of people choosing to sit together for a few hours.

I doubt I’ll stick, honestly, because I don’t intend to stay in this area of the country. And ultimately, because I don’t think it matters nearly as much as I used to.

I don’t think this church is perfect at all. There have been a few things said from the pulpit with which I disagree, but it seems that this will always be the case anywhere I go. If I choose to focus, though, on the emphasis on community involvement, particularly the work with Burmese refugees, I feel encouraged.

This morning I volunteered with about ten other people from the church at a community food bank, and I felt very safe and connected to good things.

I am a bit startled to drive home from church with a sense of hope that is stronger than my cynicism. Growth seems possible from this light.