I skipped church today. It’s the first time I’ve done that in years, unless I was traveling on a Sunday or was sick.
Usually I go to my parents’ church, or a different church closer to where I live. Every week my parents ask me where I went to church, what they talked about, what I thought of it. I’m not out to my parents about my religious questioning, and I don’t like lying, so it’s always just been easier for me to go to a church. Plus I like church; I like the songs, I like getting together with people, I even sort of like the praying—and once in a while (though less and less often) I hear a good sermon.
But today I was laying around and I thought, why should I spend several hours of my always too-short day going to a place I don’t really like to sing songs I no longer agree with and hear a message that is meaningless to me?
It’s funny because I’m still in a stage where I think about atheism probably more than is necessary. So, in a sense, I’m thinking about God all the time, even though I don’t read my bible. I read atheist blogs every day, I think, and am preoccupied with questions of belief more than might be healthy. But of course that’s not the kind of spirituality that’s expected of me. What’s expected of me is that I go to church every single week.