Believe It or Not, I Fell In Love With Going to Church

After my middle child “retired” from gymnastics, she wanted to try out different sports. She chose volleyball first and after learning the game, she was invited onto the traveling team. She was pretty excited, as was I, seeing as I played volleyball growing up. The coach set up an orientation meeting with the new parents to go over the handbook and policies. At the start of the meeting, one of the first things the coach said was, “We are thinking about doing practice on Sundays, is everyone okay with that?”

I looked around the room and every single parent nodded their head in agreement. I raised my hand and politely said, “No, I wouldn’t be okay with that.” The collective sigh from all in the room was very audible. I knew what they were thinking: “Here is one of those religious nuts.”

There was a time in my life when I would have nodded my head, too. On my drive home that day, I thought a lot about how our devotion to the Lord’s Day has been overshadowed by nearly everything else in our lives. It’s an afterthought, an “if we get around to it” kind of event, or, even worse, not even a thought at all.

Sitting in the car, I thought back over my faith journey, my pilgrimage, if you will. I remembered how when I was a teen, my mom never let me slack off in my attendance at church on Sundays. Some Sundays I went and didn’t mind, but there were several Sundays where I was loath to get out of bed and go.

In college, I think I maybe went to church eight times; two times a year for the four years I was in college. Those times would have been Easter and Christmas. I don’t even recall thinking that it might be a good idea to go to church at all during my college years. I was content to smugly tell myself that I was a believer and I was a “good” person. I thought that was sufficient.

Going to church was hit or miss for Dustin and me during our early years of marriage. Most Sundays we were happy to just sleep in. I was always arguing anyway with him about where to go to church since he was Catholic and I was Protestant. For awhile, our impasse impeded our presence in the pews.

I look back now and I realize that I had all the excuses:

“God knows I believe in Him, so that’s good enough.”

“I can worship God anywhere. I don’t need church.”

“People at church are annoying and hypocritical.”

“I can’t stand the music.”

“It’s so hard with a baby.”

“I need to sleep in. God understands.”

I could go on and on with the mountainous multitude of excuses I heaped up. Once I became Catholic, though, my understanding of church and its importance started to become clear. Mass is the source and summit of our lives and, if that is true, it means everything to be present in church on Sundays.

I’m a football fan. I love my Kansas State Wildcats. When I was in college, I was lucky enough to attend every single home game as a member of the marching band or just as a regular student. I love the atmosphere. The smells of BBQ and popcorn. The roar of the crowd that is so loud that it makes your eyes swim. In the summer, you sweat it out and wait for the sun to slip behind the press box. In the winter, you adorn yourself with layers and huddle close with your neighbor. There’s the anticipation, the excitement, the letdown, the heartache, the joy, and even the frustration that a fan goes through that makes the experience real, full, and worth the effort to go.

I live far away from my beloved Cats now and can’t go to home games like I desire. Some games, my husband and I have to listen to the game on the radio, old school like. Some Saturdays, we get to watch the Cats on TV, but it’s not the same. There are the distractions of home and kids. You don’t get to experience all the sensory sensations and it just doesn’t compare to being present in the stadium. What I miss the most, though, is being there with my Wildcat family. I miss the community. I miss hugging a complete stranger when we win a big game. I miss high-fiving my fellow Cat fans when there is a first down or an interception. I miss that closeness and that bond we share as fans of our university. It’s a bonding experience and it connects us in ways that watching on TV can’t replicate.

As I began to understand why God wants us to join on Sundays to worship Him, my whole outlook on it changed. Now, I desire now more than anything to be at Mass on Sundays. I wish I could go to daily Mass. I see the importance of gathering together with my fellow Catholics. Sure, there are hypocrites and annoying people, but that’s everywhere in life. I didn’t stop going to college because of the annoying people. I never left a job because the people were weird or annoying. I have to somewhat laugh at the irony in self-righteously looking down on other people at church, while I judge them full of obnoxious pride. Talk about annoying. My husband tells our family time and again, “All the people in the pews are God’s children, too. They are our brothers and sisters with their own struggles and vices. They are no different from us in their humanness.”

Christ said, “You are Peter and upon this rock I will build my church” in Matthew 16:18. He meant this in two ways: First, the communion of people as the church. As Christians the world over, we are the church–the living church, the communion of saints, the Body of Christ. Yet, there is still the very real, tangible element to what Christ said, as well. The Apostles started real churches with real buildings for believers to commune in. They met in caves, houses, and catacombs during times of persecution, but they met together, nonetheless. We are not meant to walk this faith journey apart and do it all on a solitary level. We are meant to come together on Sundays to join with the choirs of angels and all the saints in heaven to give praise and worship to God. We need that very real sense of community. Just like being at a live football game is a better experience than watching it on the tube, so is our worship at church as compared to sitting at home.

The most significant thing of all, though, is that if I say I love and worship God, shouldn’t I want to prove that with my actions? I know for me, if a singer or comedian I really like is in town, I will make the time to see them. How much more should I do this for God? I realized, now, how flat my profession of faith really was when I couldn’t even give God an hour in His house. Sure, I can worship God in nature or at home and I do, but it’s not the same as being present in His house and receiving Him in the Eucharist. He wants me to come and be with Him. The Creator of the world wants me to come spend an hour with Him and that is profound. Christ went to the Temple and to the synagogues. As God, He didn’t have to do this, but I think He was showing us just how important it is to spend time with the Lord in His house. I can’t imagine how painful it would be if my kids one day said to me, “Mom, you know, I really don’t have time to come to your house to see you. I feel that I can connect with you here in my house just fine. Honestly, I just don’t have the time.” Even worse would be if they just had no desire to.

I want people to take me seriously as a believer in Christ. I don’t want others to wonder if maybe I am, or maybe I’m not. I realize now that back in the day when I called myself Christian, but couldn’t even muster the desire to visit God in His house, how lacking that looked. I looked no different from a non-believer. I do love God and I want to be near Him. I also don’t want to isolate myself in this journey from my brothers and sisters in Christ. Christ instituted the Mass for our benefit–it is to nourish, restore, and strengthen us. I encourage you to order your Sunday around time with God in church. It’s a time to be close to God and for us Catholics to receive Him body, soul, and divinity. We are truly blessed.