After my recent whining about church I felt like I left more unexplained than explained, and that on the whole I shouldn’t have written it without the explanations — things like: there is a profound difference between worship and sermonizing, and most modern churches conflate the two; and, almost all of our best friends go to our church, and we love them; and I don’t get close to people anyway, which is my own doing, and not my church’s fault. But to spell all that out seems like far too much work, and then what incentive would any of you have to buy the book one day?
I confess I was warmed to see my own thoughts echoed in something Frederick Buechner said when asked why he rarely attends church:
One reason I don’t is very often when I go I am bored out of my wits. They’re not telling me anything I haven’t heard before. They are not moving my heart. Plus it gives birth in me to the worst of me. I keep thinking how much better I could do it. And what a terrible thing to go to church and come away thinking, “God, I wish I had gotten up there. I could have really told it the way it is.”
How wonderful that he admits such a thing. It makes me think I may get into heaven after all.
Speaking of imperfect faith, this afternoon I discovered this thoughtful critique of the Christian pretense to perfection. Have a look. And a nice rest. It’s Sunday, after all.
