I went to church today.
It wasn’t for a wedding or a baptism or a funeral.
I know. Little agnostic me going to church willingly.
You know what, though? I have been through so much the past eighteen months or so, from that worse case scenario to pondering what it means when an agnostic celebrates Christmas to being on my own, that going to church today felt right.
Is it simply a need for socialization or for directing a passion for social justice into something more tangible than the secular world provides? I don’t know. Did I hit the jackpot with this first church? I don’t know. Am I still agnostic? I don’t know.
The music of both religious and secular origins. A special time for the congregation’s children before they headed off to Children’s Church while the adults contemplated deeper, heavier stuff. The sermon touching on current events in Libya and Japan while trying to reconcile those horrible things with the teachings of Christianity and the particular denomination.
I don’t claim to know much about The Bible or hymns or the intricacies of the denomination I might continue to visit, but going to church just feels right, like a natural progression of life as I know it.