My grandma has been gone for almost 12 years, but she always crosses my mind whenever I pass a church.
She grew up Catholic and she raised her nine children to follow the faith. She didn’t push it on anyone, but it was always there beneath the surface.
At least for me, it was just something you could feel. It was part of what made her who she was, and even though I’m not very religious, her dedication to Catholicism was always something I respected.
My dad chose to let me decide how I felt about religion. He never took me to church when I was younger. The only memories I have of it are dragging my mom out of bed at 7 a.m. so I could go to Sunday School with my friends. She thought I was insane (and probably very persistent and annoying), but still; she relented.
I’d also go to church with my grandma when I was in Michigan for Easter and Christmas. I liked the traditions and the idea of Catholicism, but they never stuck with me.
On Saturday, my friend asked me to go to church with him. Maybe this was my way of feeling closer to my grandma. Maybe I really did just want to go for the experience.
Usually, I’d make up an excuse at the last minute and not go, but on Saturday, something was telling me I should.
However, this post is not about what religion is right, or if religion is right at all. This is about being open to other perspectives and ideas.
Sometimes, it’s just about really allowing yourself to experience something different.
I didn’t go to mock religion or to support my friend. I went because I was curious.
Normally, I’d be nervous, but since I’m a journalist, I’m used to walking into random, unknown situations and not knowing what to expect.
But on Saturday, I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. My slightly confused and bewildered face said it all.
I didn’t know any of the prayers, any stories from the Bible and I definitely didn’t know that kneeling in prayer took up about a quarter of the two-hour church service.
But still, I experienced a simple sense of calm and quiet in those moments of forced reflection.
I couldn’t follow along with the different stories from the Bible because I didn’t know them, and I felt very disingenuous singing along with songs about faith. So, I looked down and took it all in.
My mind wandered and I thought about everything else going on in my life. And even though I felt out of place, it didn’t bother me. I could see things clearly even though everything around me made no sense at all.
For two hours, I felt centered, in a place no one like me should feel centered at all. For all intents and purposes, I didn’t really belong there.
And even though my friend and I interpreted the pastor’s message differently, we both still got something out of it.
Taking a couple of hours to be present and listen to something someone else has to say, especially if they’re from a different faith or walk of life, are precious moments. And they should be treasured.
“My feeling is that everyone should be able to believe what they want or need to believe.”
-Jodi Picoult