As a child, I wasn't wild about church. I saw little use in a sixth iteration of getting out of bed to go someplace to be taught something while being intermittently picked on by my peers. Worse yet, this time 'round it was on the weekend and done while wearing uncomfortable clothes! I rebelled and called an end to the seemingly pointless ritual around the age of 13. I got back into church at university, this time attending a nearby Catholic church (quite a turn for someone raised Baptist). The novelty of the Catholic ceremony eventually wore off and I moved to Saint Mary's Metropolitan Community Church (MCC) in Greensboro (where I lived at the time). (The UFMCC is a Christian denomination with a special ministry to the queer community.)
I continued to attend church for some time after I found myself married, but my husband wasn't a church-goer and things came to a point where I'd rather stay at home and enjoy his company than go to church. I'd been a lapsed church-goer for several years when we divorced just before New Year 2006. Seeing a chance for a fresh start in multiple facets of my life, I made a New Year resolution to return to church and have found doing so to be a blessing. I've visited several churches of different denominations and am quite enjoying the experience.
My first foray back into faith was a visit in late January to MCC of Winston-Salem. It was comforting to experience a liturgy with which I was familiar, to be greeted warmly and sincerely, and to even see some familiar faces and catch up with some old acquaintances. The worship felt reverent and sincere and the pastor is a former Baptist minister. My boyfriend, Chris, and I have since visited MCC W-S together and will likely do so many more times.
In late January, I had lunch on separate occasions with two long-time friends (another New Year resolution) and found that they both attended Epiphany Presbyterian Chruch in Greensboro, a new, small, welcoming congregation. ("Welcoming" is a code word to us queer folk meaning that we'll be accepted as we are.) One of those long-time friends plays the piano during worship at Epiphany on alternating Sundays and has since become my boyfriend! (Yep, Chris.) I've visited this church several times and quite like it -- the pastor, the congregation, and the music (though I'm biased on that last point). The sermons are quite thought-provoking, interactive, and unlike anything that I'd experienced previously.
Wanting to visit my paternal grandmother one weekend, I drove to Mocksville and attended Jericho Church of Christ, where Granny and Pops are members. I was struck by the quantity of music in the service -- all a capella -- as well as by the strong out-reach to the local Latino community. I could tell that my family has a long history at this church, as it seemed that every second person that I met was a cousin, aunt, or uncle of some sort.
Chris and I visited Wake Forest Baptist Church in Winston-Salem, which meets in Wait Chapel on the campus of Wake Forest University. We each have friends and acquaintances that attend WFBC and we knew that it's a member of The Association of Welcoming and Affirming Baptists, a group of congregations that actively and affirmatively welcome queer folk into their midst. The music was great and the congregation was very friendly, so I look forward to visiting again.
The most moving experience of my church-going life took place in early March when Chris and I visited Pullen Memorial Baptist Chruch in Raleigh. He attended Pullen when he lived in Raleigh for a short while a few years ago and still misses the church. I'd heard of Pullen before; they were kicked out of the Southern Baptist Convention in the early 1990s when they blessed the union of a male couple. That Sunday at Pullen with Chris was an absolutely magical experience! I felt emotional through the whole service and had to concentrate in order to be able to sing without getting choked up. I had never felt anything like I felt that day in any church that I had ever attended. I was simply overwhelmed by love and acceptance and awe-struck that this was happening to me in a Baptist church, the tradition in which I was raised. Chris and I sat with my arm across his shoulder the whole time and I didn't feel any sort of discomfort -- no one so much as cast a sideways glance in our direction. The church was full of all sorts of families and many, many young people, as well. Of course, I felt acceptance at MCC, but I expected it there. And sure, queer folks were evident in every corner at Pullen and there was other diversity, too, but this is by-and-large a main-stream congregation that accepted us even though they didn't have to. This was the "real world" in which we were worshipping, as Chris put it, not a constructed enclave as at MCC (though such enclaves certainly serve a purpose). As the congregation filed out after the service, Chris introduced me to the pastor, she welcomed me, and it was all that I could do to eek out "It was a blessing." without crying. We walked the couple of blocks back to his car in silence, got in, then I sat and cried for fifteen minutes, overwhelmed by what I'd just experienced. "Such a big difference a little bit of love and acceptance can make," I commented.
I'm not sure where my religious journey will take me; such roads are often windy and stony. However, I look forward to visiting more churches, returning to those where I have felt the spirit's strong presence, and continuing to develop my faith and feed my soul. I encourage all of you to find a faith community where you feel welcomed, accepted, and loved in which your spirit will grow and flourish. :J
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