Grace, Interrupted

My daughter was born with clubfoot, the correction of which required wearing a combination of casts and braces until she was four. She hardly slept because of this which means Matt and I hardly slept.

Sometimes the car would calm her, sometimes not, but it was usually the best bet. I started playing Pokemon Go! to pass my time. Pokemon Go is an app similar to geocaching in that it uses your location in order to guide you to “collect” Pokemon. The Pokemon are not real; but the locations in which they show up are.

One beautiful and bright early morning as I was driving Isla around I got a notification that a rare Pokemon was in the St Agnes Church graveyard in Morrisdale. I decided to try it out, ignoring the private property sign (MY BAD), and pulling in. I was parked at the far end, Isla was asleep, and I finally had a peaceful moment to myself even if it was as juvenile as playing Pokemon.

Within 5 minutes the pastor (priest? I’m not Catholic) came and told me to leave. He threatened to call the cops. He made me feel like a junkie and he made me feel less than. He also made me feel incredibly grateful that I was not raised in the Catholic Church.

People used to ask me all the time, “How do we get young people to go to church?”

Well, you could start with practicing what you preach. You could start with being more inclusive. You could start with saving your personal judgements and letting God do that work.

I see “religious” people on here all the time passing judgment, getting it wrong, or my very favorite, blanketly blaming liberals for our countries problems while completely ignoring that if Jesus were around today he would absolutely be considered a liberal.

The cognitive dissonance is too much and it makes me not want to go to church.

Isla and I have been church “homeless” since ours switched from a Methodist Church to a Bible Church. We once had a wonderful pastor that was all the things I listed above but she was moved many years ago and since retired.

People say, “you don’t go to church for the pastor” but I’m going to strongly disagree with that.

If you have any interest in bringing people back, maybe start by asking why they left—and actually listening to the answer.

And just remember—it’s not always about faith.

Sometimes it’s about how we were treated on a random Tuesday morning when we needed a little grace.