This weekend we were honored to join with family members at the Baptism of their son. He carries on his father’s name and his eyes reflect joy just like his mother’s. Words are truly inadequate to describe the fullness of my heart in being close enough to join our family on such a blessed occasion.
The program was lengthy compared to those of my childhood churches and the robes vastly different from the three piece suit worn by the man who baptized me. Those things fell aside as I smiled at the beauty of three generations sharing an expression of faith together in a little Lutheran church.
I have no illusions that there are fundamental differences among religions. Not every person calling herself Christian lives by the same set of essential truths as I. What I’m overwhelmed with is the thought of needless judgement and pain we cause – that I have participated in – in focusing on the minute differences between our practices.
This military life has grown my faith. God started to open my eyes at a little church in Europe, even through the pain I experienced, He showed me how I cause the same hurt. When we moved to parts of the country without churches in our childhood denomination, He continued to show me that church is not a building.
Coming home has been about more than living near those who share bloodlines, it’s about recognizing the importance of worship with my family of faith.
How has your definition of church changed since you were a child?
My definition of church has changes so much since I was a child. I grew up in a community of one predominant religion. We didn’t go to church because my parents were divorced and my mom often worked two jobs to support three kids. My dad lived in a completely different state. Nobody else in our extended family really went to church or lived a life of faith. Consequently, I was the outsider at school. I was labeled a stoner because I didn’t go to church with my classmates even though I never once to this day laid hands on any kind of drugs. I didn’t have many friends and this experience with “the church” resulted in my growing up with feelings of low self-worth. It has been a long journey to find my way into a life of Christian faith and I’m so grateful to have this relationship with the Lord now. But I must admit, I still have a tainted view of that particular religion because of how powerfully negative the impact was on me as a child. It is a very big reason in why when my husband and I decided to leave our life in Southern California for small town living we chose NOT to move back there where my family all lives, because I felt so strongly that I didn’t want my daughters to be singled out. Now, with that said…I’m sure things have changed over the years and I’m sure God wants me to have a forgiving heart and let it go. So I’m trying to…
It is amazing how deep the hurt can be, isn’t it? I am often struck by the recognition of how some of the most hurtful moments were not even intended on the part of others. They simply knew no different. When we carry around that hurt, we are the only ones who feel the pain. That said, I think it is wise to consider those experiences when determining what is best for our children. May God continue to heal your heart.
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oh my yes! I have come to discover the real Church is the people, no matter where they gather. We’re nor less the Church if we gather for a meal in a quiet home or if we’re raising our worshipful hands in a massive building with pews. We’re no less the Church if we stay home with a sick child or if we’re singing a solo in the service. For me, a church service was previously seen as a requirement. Now I see it as a celebration.