I might as well face it. I can't worship in church. The dynamic is all wrong for me, and always has been. I worship much better in a small, intimate group, and worship best of all when I'm being the creator God made to be, putting words to paper and crafting new stories, new characters, and new ideas.
I might as well face it. There is almost no sense of belonging for me in church. The size of the congregation is so large, the busyness is so acute that I have as much sense of connection with others as Tom Hanks stranded on a desert island. Except he had a volleyball.
I might as well face it. I haven't heard one thing in a sermon in church that's stuck with me, for about fourteen years now. I've heard great speakers, lousy speakers and speakers who fell somewhere in-between, but even the great speakers haven't given me much to think about once the service is over. It all gets swept aside in the announcements and the post-service isolation. Talking to people nonstop for thirty to forty minutes at a time is the worst way imagineable to teach, and yet churches nationwide at least swear by it. I learn more about God, about myself, about my fellow wanderers, pilgrims and sinners, in sixty minutes of reading a good book than I learn in sixty weeks of sermons.
So why do I bother going?