Church (S)Hopping in the South

I get a truckload of homesickness dumped out on top of me every Sunday morning. Our Chicago church was not perfect, but it was great. Home, friends, community, and enough like-minded people to feel some grounding, even though we didn't agree with everyone about everything. We had a place there, individually and as a couple. And we both knew that leaving that church home and trying to find a new church home in NC were going to be at the top of the "Things That Suck About Moving" List.

But oh, we had no idea what we were in for. We have heard some wacky stuff, friends. Wacky. I know this is the South, and they do things differently down here, but it has been SO much harder than I thought it would be. For one thing, during any type of casual introduction situation, the FIRST question I was asked in 4 out of the 6 churches we have visited so far has been "So, Jill, do you work outside the home?". The next question usually asks about our children/plans to have children, followed by "How long have you two been married?". Now, these are God-loving, well-meaning, lovely women. And I get that this line of inquiry probably makes a lot of sense here. Many of the women's ministry options meet on Tuesday mornings at10am. And child care is provided. And that is TERRIFIC. I'm glad that these churches have those opportunities. And I know that a 34 year old married woman with no children is an anomaly, but still. It just alerts me to how different the culture - the church culture - is here. I haven't met many (any?) women at these churches who have children and work outside the home. Everyone stays home. Which is cool. It's just so different from Chicago.

Anyway, that's not the only part that has been hard. The teaching has been puzzlingly poor. We've tried to give some churches the benefit of the doubt, and have even been to one of them about 5 times now. We've met a lovely couple who lived in Chicago for several years and now have 3 small kids and we have hung out with them a few times. We like them. But I don't think we can stay at that church. I don't want to get into the reasons why. Suffice to say that is a church from the same denomination as our Chicago church, but it feels like it may as well be from another planet. Labels are just labels. But it sure makes it a lot harder to find your way home.

So, after an exasperating couple of weeks of feeling disheartened and unsure what to do next, coupled with my Week of Angry last week, Les and I decided to dial it back to the original parish model and try the closest church to our house. There are a lot of churches here, so it's like tripping over stuff to try this plan. There were several within 3 miles, so, much to my secret delight we went to Catholic Mass yesterday. I was thrilled. It was only my third-ever mass. It was a huge, beautiful church. I was eager to go to church with a curious heart and an open mind. I looked forward to the assurance the people would probably not even notice that we were new, and just let us worship in peace.

It. Was. Awesome. No, seriously, I loved it. I couldn't take communion, of course, and I didn't know exactly what to do and when, but once I figured out how to follow along with the liturgy card, it was great. The congregation was diverse - young, old, every color, wheelchairs, mixed race families, families, singles, you name it. The music was simple and scriptural and beautiful. The sermon was Biblical, straight-forward, and totally apt. The prayers were inclusive and global. They had a full TWO PAGES of service opportunities in their community bulletin. Women helped serve communion. People seemed to know each other, and talk with one another before and after the mass. I felt my heart leap around in my chest, and God whispered to me to remember that he is at work EVERYWHERE. Everywhere two or three are gathered in His name.

The best part was actually that Les agreed with me. He told me that he felt the Lord tell him to just chill out about the Catholic baggage. "I'm here too, Les". Pretty cool that we both heard that. I don't know if we will go back there for real, but the whole thing refreshed my spirit. I think we'll try an Anglican church next.

There's more to the story, but I won't go into it now. The church search has yanked a lot of both of our, ahem, issues up into plain view. It is hard. We are two people who love Jesus, and yet have some really different beliefs. Being on the same page about the Big Stuff is great and important and essential to marital harmony, but even the "slightly less big" stuff can inspire all kinds of really hard (hopefully really good) conversations, tears, disagreements, and long sleepless nights. I have to believe that this searching and crying is something that God can use to draw us up to him and to each other. And it certainly draws the severe problems of the broken unity of the church into sharp focus.