...except for me and my monkey! "Everything we see hides another thing. We always want to see what is hidden by what we see." -Rene Magritte

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Unchurched

I spent about an hour and a half in the Powell's reading room this afternoon. I brought three books in with me. The middle-aged man across the table kept staring at me in a way that was slightly discomforting. As I gathered my things to leave, the man noticed the title of one of the books: The Year of Living Biblically by A. J. Jacobs. "What's that book, about living biblically?" he asked. I moved the book so that he could read the title. He smiled at me. "What church do you go to?" he asked.

The way he asked it, and the way he smiled, made the question seem like the preface to either a pick-up or an evangelization. I wasn't interested in either. "I don't go to church," I said, and left.

As I walked out of the reading room I realized the weight of what I had said. It's true: I haven't been to church since early May. The past few Sundays I've thought about visiting one of the churches in my area, or checking out Imago Dei, but have ended up staying home and reading Christian or feminist blogs instead. Being a practicing, church-going Christian used to be such a huge part of how I defined myself; now, I'm honestly not sure whether I still consider myself a Christian.