Church Going

I've been praying for the last few weeks so I decided to go to a Sunday service at church for the first time since I was a child. I wasn't raised religious exactly but I went to a Church of England primary school and was an unthinking believer until I was 11 years old, when I became an unthinking atheist in a process that I have absolutely no memory of.

I went to a church close to where my parents now live. The average age was around 70, and I felt awkward and out of place. The church itself looked too casual for my liking - a modern room with haphazardly-placed plants, no stained glass windows, and a minister wearing khakis. I don't go to church but when I do I expect it to look like a church.

I felt embarrassed, and at the same time spiritually hungry. I often go to a non-religious (therefore non-Christian) spiritual service in Berlin - meditation, authentic relating games, singing - but recently I've noticed that it lacks some nutrient that I need. I want someone (God) to tell me what to do, maybe.

I sat next to an older man who introduced himself as Edward then annoyed me by constantly apologising as he moved past me to do some small tasks. It wasn't the movements that I found annoying, but the constant apologies. I felt guilty for being annoyed.

We rose to sing, the choir was out of tune, and to my surprise I found myself crying at the first words of the hymn. I can't even remember what it was - something about Jesus loving me. The tears continued, off-and-on, for the whole service. It was always some short, phrase in a hymn or prayer that got me: "by your Spirit make us more like Christ", "Make us clean, O God, and we shall be whole".

I felt like a brainwashed sleeper agent suddenly re-activated by trigger words seeded in me decades ago. Oh right - Jesus loves me! I'd forgotten.

Somehow the bad parts - the uncared-for interior, the shittiness of the choir, the complete absence of attractive women - became beautifully pure aspects of the experience. I felt this ache, this deep ache, to be loved and accepted exactly as I am - to be seen and seen-through in all my petty judgements and shame.

It wasn't all sentimental like this. Some of the hymns were just bad. The sermon was boring, and focussed on a sectarian conflict between the Assyrians and ancient Israelites that I struggled to take any spiritual lesson from.

When it was over I chatted with Edward - about his life, and his relationship with Christianity. His wife brought us a coffee. He was touched that I was at church for the first time as an adult, and asked - apologetically - if he could pray for me. He put a hand on my shoulder and asked God to guide my spirit.

I'm not a Christian yet but it felt good. I left smiling and being smiled at.