As a child, my faith was simple and unconflicted. As I grew, it became less so, but I knew that was alright because I have always believed that faith without questioning isn’t really faith at all. So I question, but I believe.
These last several years, though, have really affected how I feel about organized religion–particularly Christianity. And not for the better. Far from it. In fact, I’m pretty sure some of my early Christian education instructors would be rolling over in their graves if I told them about my faith’s evolution. How it has evolved to include all the people that we were taught needed to change who they were or they couldn’t be a part of the club. How I believe so many people in the club should be slapped upside the head and made to see that their actions are the hypocritical opposite of what Jesus taught us. (You know–Jesus, the brown-skinned, undocumented immigrant who believed in paying taxes…) How I believe that the man-made church is built on a patriarchal system designed to deny equality and manipulate scripture to retain power. Or how… well, you get the idea. My faith is no longer that of a six-year-old.
The truth is, if it wasn’t for my current church, I’m not sure I would still be attending one anymore. I am grateful for the people in it and the open heart and mind that shapes all that our church does. So when my pastor asked me if I would write and share a perspective of mine “from the pews” for our church blog, I did.
I’m sharing it here in case you might be interested in taking a peek. It’s just a simple little story of how my family has literally left our mark on the church!