Easter Sunday

As a child I would take my Conan the Barbarian and Star Wars action figures to church. Our family would go to a Greek Orthodox church in Pittsburgh, we'd sit in the front row, and I would go about pretending to defeat bad guys with my sidekicks. They'd run up and down the pew, fly through the air; then one day, out of my hand and onto the floor in a clatter. If you thought a priest wouldn't give you the death stare, think again. One look was all it took from Father who-ever and Conan and Luke Skywalker stopped attending church.

Let's jump ahead 20-some odd years, and my church knowledge hasn't grown much. In 2003, after moving to Mammoth Lakes, I attended church with my friend Kimmy. Neither of us really knew much about Christianity or God, but we were curious enough. Singing in a group was delightful. Although the songs were mostly about things I wasn't sure existed, I sang along like a good Christian. Honestly, I have sung along to rap songs about "busting caps" or "shooting my 9" and I don't do that ever, so I didn't see anything wrong with singing about unconditional love for a stranger.

Church attendance flowed weekly, and I still wasn't "learning" much that helped sway me from my current beliefs. One day, Kimmy and I met with a guy who did something for the church, I am not sure what as it wasn't made clear to me. He asked us several questions like: "Why have you decided to come to church?" Which for both of us was something along the lines of learning about God and why so many people believe, and should we believe it also?
"Are you enjoying your time here at church?" We both agreed yes.
"Are you Christians?" Kimmy answered yes, while I answered an inconclusive, "well...eh...uh...not sure."

I could sing along in church, getting all the words jumbled and be ok. In that large group, my voice would sink into anonymity amongst the others, and my errors would go undetected. Here in front of one person, being asked one question, I couldn't lie... not in church, and especially not about God. So I answered how I felt was the right answer for me. It was like someone had turned off all other sound while this was happening and everyone around heard my response. The man talking with us looked at me wide eyed, in total disbelief. Kimmy seemed unfazed but the few others within earshot shuffled nervously. Well, that was the end of my church going, lest I be burned at the stake.

I don't really think anyone would have tried to injure me or scrutinize too harshly. I just realized I really didn't belong there, singing like Christian but being of a totally different mindset. Not saying that they are wrong or I am right, just different strokes for different folks... and if people are happy in their beliefs and not hurting anybody, then who am I to judge?

On Sunday, Pat's family invited me to go to church with them for Easter. I said yes. The church itself was beautiful; the people were friendly. Yet again, when mass began and the sing-songy chants from the priest started up, I couldn't get into it. Instead of feigning interest I looked around at the architecture. It is amazing to see what people will build so that others can come to pray in a beautiful, safe place. The Priest asked several questions to which people responded, "I do." Instead of answering, I kept quiet because I still wouldn't feel right lying in church. I believe that Jesus died unselfishly for us, but everything else... "well...eh...uh...not sure."

At the end people started rising from their seats for communion. Like most things in life, going along with the group is easy; however, stepping aside when you know you should is trickier and can ruffle the wrong feathers. I began to sweat because I really didn't want to strut down that aisle like an impostor. It was already bad enough that I was taking the seat of a believer who was forced to stand. "Are you coming up for this," Pat asked, knowing that I had skipped this step at friends' weddings.
"Will I be stoned in public if I don't?"
"Probably. No, just try to look like you are doing something important."
So I sat there watching Pat, Trish, and Ed shuffle up the aisle while listening to the children's choir. As quickly as it began, church was over and three Christians and one Krissy were in the car headed home.