So You’re Thinking About Going Back To Church

Professor Ussama Makdisi ( Nephew of Dr. Edward Said)

This morning I attended a lecture at a Buddhist temple. 

It felt familiar. 

The gathering was on some old fold out chairs in a multi function room that I’m sure is used for school plays, gym time, and congregational meals. 

I stood near the back listening to a lecture on Palestinian history. 

Towards the end of the lecture I could see two white haired Japanese aunties and one grandpa setting out the food. Eventually they brought a silver kettle with tea to each table. We were told we could have lunch. 

Nobody got in line. 

About 5 minutes later one of the main teachers was invited to give a prayer and officially get us going into lunch. Folks finally started getting food. 

—

It’s been a long time since I’ve slowly walked through the line for lunch in a church gym. 

But it made me feel deeply nostalgic. 

Growing up we used to have an all church potluck every Saturday after service. 

I spent years eating dinner at my youth leader’s house.

And then grabbing lunch with friends after church as an adult. 

There is a lot I don’t miss about church. But today I was reminded how many things I do miss. 

I miss people, particularly a place to be together across generations. 

I miss the conversation with folks who are different from me. Conversations with folks who think differently than me.  And the way that our difference is handled with so much more gentleness and humanity in person versus online. 

I miss the feeling of being taken care of by my elders. Fed. Even elders who don’t know me and that I don’t know. I felt held. 

I felt nourished by the group ritual of everyone waiting to go through the potluck line until the third invitation. 

I watched a boy carry a huge serving of food and a plate of doughnuts in a wobbly uneven fashion as he tried to move from where his mother put his food to where his friend’s were. 

I miss all this. 

I miss humans. 

I miss being in the same room together. 

There is something about the social media space that has worn me down in a profound way. I feel like people are yelling at me all the time. It feels so disembodied. 

________

In 2020 and 2021 I met with countless WOC and folks who would tell me how shelter in place had given them the space they needed  to leave church. Once everything moved online, they could just slip away, without the community conflict and scrutiny that would have come had everyone still been meeting in person. 

They would almost whisper about the relief. The freedom of having their Sundays back. Not having to listen to pastors they no longer respected. Not having to have countless conversations defending and explaining themselves. Especially for Asian American women it was a welcome gift. 

However, in the last year, I have noticed a shift. 

In low tones, and apologetically, Women of Color/folks have started to talk about why they are thinking about going back to church. 

The first reason has been kids. Folks know why they left in 2020. But as they are raising kids, they want their kids to have some kind of spiritual formation. They want their kids to know about God, to learn about Jesus. But they feel conflicted because they don’t want their kids to get the same version of Christianity that made them leave in 2020. But it also feels very difficult to guide kids spiritually without the support of a church. 

I thought this cute photo of a drowsy Asian kiddo with chonky cheeks would be the least triggering of the many photo visuals I had to choose from. 

(Someone could make a lot of money creating POC centered progressive children’s church curriculum right now. )

The second reason has been loneliness. 

Folks have been lonely. 

For a long time. 

Finding community has been hard. 

Especially in places that don’t have progressive churches. 

And even then, a lot of progressive churches are mostly older white folks. And that has its own feeling of dissonance. 

Women/ folks will be on zoom with me and almost apologetically say, “My husband and I are thinking about going back to church.”

Or. 

“I don’t want to go back to church, but I don’t know what else to do.”

___

My thought is, it’s fine to go back. 

And as is often talked about on the Bachelorette, it’s fine to be there for the wrong reasons. 

For many of us, church used to be our entire social circle. We were there all day on Sundays, at small group during the week, maybe an additional leadership meeting. If you served on worship team, you were at rehearsal on another week night.

We left churches because they ousted us, told us God didn’t love us, gaslit our concern for justice. But we also left friends, people who showed up when we had babies, supported us when parents were sick. People to socialize with and take camping trips with. The joy of watching your kids in a giant jumble of other kids from church while the adults made dinner over camp stoves during the annual all church camping retreat. 

Making friends as an adult is hard. 

Finding people to date on apps is… perilous at times. 

Everybody is there for the wrong reasons. ;)

For many who are thinking about going back to church, it isn’t to worship. It isn’t “for God.” 

It’s for friends. 

It’s for community. 

It’s to find someone to date.

It’s to fill some of the loneliness that so many of us feel in 2024. 

And frankly, I think that’s fine. 

Some folks are a part of churches where they just attend on Sunday and that it is. They like the teaching, but they aren’t looking for more.  Other’s are sort of putting up with the pulpit, for the chance to find humans to connect with in person. The loneliness is profound. The isolation. And using church as a sort of- institution that pre-screens people for you. That’s fine. 

Many of us were told that you had to be ALL OUT for church as an expression of being ALL OUT for Jesus! But it is okay to be navigating this difficult, isolating landscape and figuring out what can work for you. I feel this particularly for folks who live in less diverse regions of the United States and Canada. Maybe you just show up for the church’s volunteer days and social activities and not for Sundays. 

Maybe you find a small group that works for you. 

And the truth is, you can always leave if it isn’t working out. If your nervous system rebels. If you realize that the pros still don’t outweigh the cons. 

Or maybe you’ll find community at a Buddhist temple. Or with the universalists! Gasp! 

On some level, it doesn’t matter. 

Whether or not you go to church- I want you to be getting free from all the heteropatriarchal, colonial, white supremacist ideologies and frameworks that harmed so many of us. If you can do that while attending church, great. 

What I can’t support a return to church as a sort of falling back asleep to reality. That would be a tragedy.

If you can’t go back to church. Because the only options are homophobic places that will not love you or let you be you. If you can’t go back, because the racism is too much, and the silence is too loud. 

Can I invite you, invite us, to talk openly about the loneliness. The struggle to make friends as an adult. The grief of aloneness.

Loneliness is vulnerable to talk about. 

But it is real. 

Sometimes social media can help us find some of our people. 

But more and more I think we need to acknowledge that it often makes us feel more alone and more unseen. 

Loneliness can be embarrassing, sometimes crippling, but the truth is, it is profoundly human. 

And feeling unsure where to turn and how to resolve it is something that I for one, can relate to deeply.