Safe, but not Invisible

Dear Aaron,

We talked a little this summer about sharing inspirations on how to “authenticize” church. I’ve thought about you a lot, wishing I had something to share. Well tonight, I finally got some clues—not necessarily an answer, but at least new realizations of what makes church work for me.

It has been one of those days, weeks really, when I’ve made lots of mistakes—been angry when I should have been understanding, reactive rather than responsive, when my prayers to “make self-righteousness be still” (Mary Baker Eddy) didn’t seem to be doing much good…at all. When I finally realized today what a jerk I’d been, the picture I saw of myself made me want to run and hide--literally. A friend was kind (and brave) enough to be really honest with me, both in helping me wake up to how “uncharacteristic” I was being and also to how futile it is to run way. Running never solves anything. I also remembered how the desire to hide was Adam’s response when he was embarrassed because he was naked. So this desire to hide was a strong hint that perhaps I wasn’t on track.

Well, it’s Wednesday (church night), and I confess that sometimes lately church just hasn’t been doing much for me other than providing a resting place while my thoughts wander or my eyes doze. I argued, “Hadn’t I kept out of hiding all day? Wouldn’t now be a good time to nurse my guilt and hurt in the seclusion of home?”

Gratefully, the ever-present Christ in us doesn’t let us give up but keeps nudging us onward and upward. I realized that not going to church would be hiding rather than truly trying to make strides towards the healing I knew needed to continue in my heart. I got the idea to go to a little Christian Science Society downtown rather than the much larger church where I’m a member. When questioning why, the thought came, “I feel safe there.”

Hmmm, this was a new thought to me, and as I drove to church, the questioning continued. “Why do I feel safe there?...Because, I’m NOT invisible!”

It is the mortal mind that wants to be invisible when it has made mistakes, when we’re hurting and thinking we are unworthy. However, I believe the heart wants just the opposite. It sometimes seems afraid of being left alone, of its longings not being noticed or heard. (In fact, it occurs to me that this is why emotions are often so freely expressed in places like Facebook, and perhaps why I too sometimes say things that I later regret.) Our hearts don’t want to be solitary, but intimately known. The heart is made to love and be loved, to take and give courage and encouragement.

It is all too easy to hide in a large church. I could not attend for weeks and my absence might not be noted. I could fall asleep during the service or have tears streaming down my face, and no one would likely notice. But at this little church, everyone sits in a circle. I can see the tear creeping down the cheek of the person sitting across from me, and she can’t help but see my smile. When I walked in tonight, I wasn’t sure where I was emotionally, but I took comfort in knowing that if I cried, someone would notice…and care. I sensed that in this little “sanctuary,” most of the people who walked in the door did so with a willingness to let themselves be known as they were in that moment—for better or worse, without needing to fear judgment. Likewise they also accepted the responsibility of respecting each other’s emotional nakedness, and if called upon (by the simple observation of another), would respond in a way that is Christian—which Mary Baker Eddy defines as “compassionate, helpful, and spiritual.” I doubt that all this is at the forefront of consciousness while people are at church, but nonetheless, I think these may be reasons why people are willing to drive a long way to attend the Society’s services rather than choose the convenience of much closer congregations.

Surprisingly, I actually didn’t cry at church tonight, but instead found myself sharing some of these inspirations during the testimony time. I listened really well during the readings too. I am so grateful for everyone at the service, and for the Christ in my heart that led me there. I may still have some bridges to rebuild and rough edges to smooth in my life, but I left church feeling like I was once again headed in the right direction.

So, now I have two important ingredients on my list of what makes a church experience feel authentic and sacred to me—feeling safe, and not being invisible.

Maybe we can share a service together at this Society next time you are in town. Thanks for your friendship!

With love,
Maria