Northeastern Methodist Stuck In Southern Baptist Bible-Thumping Country
So I think I've reached a very hard decision, probably the hardest decision thus far in my life.
I'm a Methodist. My mother was raised Catholic, and my father was raised Methodist. When I was little, Mom NEVER wanted us to feel like we were being pushed towards one form of Christianity over another, so she simply preached God and told us we could decide what we wanted to be when we were older. I'm glad that she did that, and I want my children to have the same someday.
When Mom left (hell, even before she left), holidays were spent at Saint Marks, the Methodist church in my hometown. Easter was a favorite of mine, and we would get dressed up and go with Dad. I had been once or twice to Catholic services with my grandparents, but I didn't really like it. It didn't give me the connection I wanted with God.
I didn't know at the time just how much Mom missed the Catholic services. Religion never really mattered to me as a kid; God was something in my life that just belonged.
Years later, Dad and I would go to church together for important things: Christmas, Easter, Scout Sunday (two of my brothers were Boy Scouts), and I favored the Methodists.
Especially the singing.
Methodists are known for their singing...it's pretty much all we do during the service. Beautiful hymns got me to my feet, singing from the heart. It was as close to God as I've ever been, right there in the pew at Saint Marks with a red hymnal in my hands. I loved it. I left feeling fulfilled. Always.
Mom is no longer defining herself as a Catholic. She divorced my father (big no no to Catholics I guess), and married my step-father, Terry. Terry is Baptist, and attends church regularly here in Tennessee. Mom goes with him, and she enjoys it very much. She enjoys church period, because she feels close to God. Everyone should be entitled to have that feeling, right?
Well, I went to church with them yesterday.
A Baptist church.
I had never felt so uncomfortable. I went in welcomed by a TON of people (I didn't know any), and it was extremely friendly, but I just didn't enjoy the service. There was singing, but the congregation only sang ONCE. The choir sang and sang and sang...They sang hymns I had never heard, hymns that were bright and upbeat. Hymns that I didn't feel belonged in a church (the hymns I know are RARELY fast). And they sang those hymns alone.
But I wanted to sing too. I missed that.
The regular pastor was on vacation, so they had someone else deliver the message. He tried really hard, and I listened hard, but I just... The message wasn't heard by my heart. Nothing came through to me.
I left feeling burdened, and that seriously bothered me. That has never happened before. It made me wonder if I'm burdened because I've lost God, or if I just didn't like the service.
I have nothing against Baptists, I mean Terry is the kindest, sweetest man I've ever met, but I would rather drive down the road a ways to the only Methodist church in the area. I would feel better there, I think.
Mom was really happy to see that I went. She was so excited, and kept asking, "Did you like church?"
I just answered, "I like going to church."
I don't want to hurt her feelings and tell her I didn't like it, but I don't want to feel bad when I go to church. I want to feel happy when I go.
Everyone is telling me to just try it again, when the regular pastor is there. I do want to meet Pastor Wayne...he married Mom and Terry.
But should I feel bad if I tell Mom that I would rather go to the Methodist service while her and Terry go to the Baptist church?
I never thought it would matter to me where I was, as long as I was with God, but I felt no connection to Him while I was there.
I didn't realize just how much of an impact Saint Marks had on my heart. :|
I'm a Methodist. My mother was raised Catholic, and my father was raised Methodist. When I was little, Mom NEVER wanted us to feel like we were being pushed towards one form of Christianity over another, so she simply preached God and told us we could decide what we wanted to be when we were older. I'm glad that she did that, and I want my children to have the same someday.
When Mom left (hell, even before she left), holidays were spent at Saint Marks, the Methodist church in my hometown. Easter was a favorite of mine, and we would get dressed up and go with Dad. I had been once or twice to Catholic services with my grandparents, but I didn't really like it. It didn't give me the connection I wanted with God.
I didn't know at the time just how much Mom missed the Catholic services. Religion never really mattered to me as a kid; God was something in my life that just belonged.
Years later, Dad and I would go to church together for important things: Christmas, Easter, Scout Sunday (two of my brothers were Boy Scouts), and I favored the Methodists.
Especially the singing.
Methodists are known for their singing...it's pretty much all we do during the service. Beautiful hymns got me to my feet, singing from the heart. It was as close to God as I've ever been, right there in the pew at Saint Marks with a red hymnal in my hands. I loved it. I left feeling fulfilled. Always.
Mom is no longer defining herself as a Catholic. She divorced my father (big no no to Catholics I guess), and married my step-father, Terry. Terry is Baptist, and attends church regularly here in Tennessee. Mom goes with him, and she enjoys it very much. She enjoys church period, because she feels close to God. Everyone should be entitled to have that feeling, right?
Well, I went to church with them yesterday.
A Baptist church.
I had never felt so uncomfortable. I went in welcomed by a TON of people (I didn't know any), and it was extremely friendly, but I just didn't enjoy the service. There was singing, but the congregation only sang ONCE. The choir sang and sang and sang...They sang hymns I had never heard, hymns that were bright and upbeat. Hymns that I didn't feel belonged in a church (the hymns I know are RARELY fast). And they sang those hymns alone.
But I wanted to sing too. I missed that.
The regular pastor was on vacation, so they had someone else deliver the message. He tried really hard, and I listened hard, but I just... The message wasn't heard by my heart. Nothing came through to me.
I left feeling burdened, and that seriously bothered me. That has never happened before. It made me wonder if I'm burdened because I've lost God, or if I just didn't like the service.
I have nothing against Baptists, I mean Terry is the kindest, sweetest man I've ever met, but I would rather drive down the road a ways to the only Methodist church in the area. I would feel better there, I think.
Mom was really happy to see that I went. She was so excited, and kept asking, "Did you like church?"
I just answered, "I like going to church."
I don't want to hurt her feelings and tell her I didn't like it, but I don't want to feel bad when I go to church. I want to feel happy when I go.
Everyone is telling me to just try it again, when the regular pastor is there. I do want to meet Pastor Wayne...he married Mom and Terry.
But should I feel bad if I tell Mom that I would rather go to the Methodist service while her and Terry go to the Baptist church?
I never thought it would matter to me where I was, as long as I was with God, but I felt no connection to Him while I was there.
I didn't realize just how much of an impact Saint Marks had on my heart. :|