I Missed Church

This morning, my mother barged into my room asking why I wasn't dressed up for home church, then proceeded to show off her batik dress.

That's when I knew I had to pull this draft out and share it.

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Before coronavirus hit the States, I had skipped out on nearly a month of church and never felt better.

I want to give context to my friends who didn’t grow up Adventist. My sect of Christianity takes a day off every week, the Sabbath (on Saturday), in order to rest. Church has been the main event for us on Sabbath mornings. But for the past couple of years, church hasn't been restful. I think the best way to explain why is by telling you about my most restful Sabbath during my month-long church hiatus.

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The Goliath Wall serves as a backdrop to a modest amphitheater behind my university. Many times I'd find students scaling this wall along with their harnesses and helmets. But not a Sabbath morning. Those climbers, still in church, wouldn't show up for a few more hours. I had the amphitheater all to myself.

After I found a safe route to the top of Goliath Wall, I broke the silence by singing- loudly, without a soul to hear me. It's a lot like singing in the shower because it's private; no one is supposed to hear you except the One who hears all.

After an hour or so of belting out my prayers and basking in the sunlight, I descended the wall and trotted back to my dorm room. Allie was waiting to pick me up for Sabbath lunch.

left to right: Pheobe, Allie, and myself

You see these two? They're probably my best friends at university. We spent that afternoon:

cooking our potluck dishes in Pheobe's charming little kitchen

laughing at the minor mishaps along the way

taking Pheobe's scarf and discovering how to wear it as a hijab

sitting by Allie’s radio and listening- until joining the radio in song- then until we couldn't sing anymore...

time flies by when you're having fun.

To close our Sabbath, Phoebe and Allie decided to show me the famous Greenway (minimal amounts of green- 3/5 stars). And as the sun set once we reached our destination, I felt rested.

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So what are my takeaways?

The Sabbath morning routine I grew up with- waking early, scarfing down breakfast, wrangling into formal, restrictive clothing- didn't give me time to connect with God on an intimate level. There's not any room for quality, personalized interactions with Jesus.

At the Sabbath church service, I didn't feel any kind of "togetherness" on a soul level. The stage and pulpit separated me from the people performing the service. I didn't get to input and interact in the service- there's not enough room for church to talk with us, so they settle for talking to us

I realize that the way we connect with God and with our community looks different for every individual, so I try not to force my way of worship onto others; yet, that’s also the frustrating part.

About a year ago, I remember telling my youth leader how I didn’t like going to church. After assuming he really knew me, the youth leader quickly brushed off my assertion, “Trust me. Once you leave, you’ll miss it."

Well, I've left- and I can't turn back now.