I’ve been out of church four and a half years. That’s a long time considering I’d been in church since inside my mother’s womb. During our years away from church, my husband and I have been approached from time to time by well-meaning people who’ve invited us to attend their churches. Occasionally, though, we’ve encountered folks who presume to know what’s best for us and take it upon themselves to tell us exactly what that is.
We’ve been told we need to be in church. We’ve been told our kids need to be in church. We’ve been told what kind of church we need to attend. We’ve been told we don’t need to be mad at God. I completely understand why people made these comments to us. Once upon a time, I thought I knew what was best for other people, too. I followed the church programs and agendas, and I believed those who didn’t follow them needed to be saved, or at the very least, rescued.
But what if people don’t need saving or rescuing just because they believe or do things differently than you? And what if the people you’re trying to save or rescue think it’s rude of you to assume you know what’s best for them if you haven’t taken the time to understand why they believe or behave as they do?
Imagine you heard that a friendly acquaintance didn’t have a dog, and one day, when you saw that person, you told her that she needed a dog. You even went so far as to tell her that her life would be better with a dog in it. You only had her best interest at heart, so you felt you needed to tell her how wonderful several different breeds of dogs were. In fact, you knew just where she could get a dog that would be perfect for her. And, as if it were your business at all, you told her all of this without asking why she didn’t have a dog, or even asking if she liked dogs.
Now, imagine you found out later that the person who didn’t have a dog had, unbeknownst to you, been viciously attacked by a dog. As a result, she’d received 250 stitches and spent a year in physical therapy. Not only did she not want a dog, she was afraid of them. Could you see how presumptuous your comments were? If you had known about the attack and her fear of dogs, would you have initiated a less triggering conversation and wished her well?
The dog example is probably a bit ridiculous and over the top for the point I’m trying to make. However, what I’m trying to say is that people have reasons for doing what they do, and maybe we shouldn’t make assumptions as to what those reasons are. In addition, maybe it’s not our business to attempt to change other people’s beliefs or behaviors. Maybe our only purpose is to love others as they are, where they are (even if that means they don’t attend church).
If you’re still worried about the souls of us Dones and Nones, rest assured that God meets us where we are. Surprisingly, God resides outside of the church building, too. And, finally, you might be shocked to know that some of our most spiritually-intimate moments have occurred during conversations with other non-attenders. I know it’s difficult to believe, but it is possible to love God and have spiritual connections with others without attending church.
