Feeling Lonely on Sunday Mornings -

 I have been reading Rachel Held Evans' "Searching for Sunday Morning: Loving, Leaving, and Finding the Church."  I've been reading this on Sunday's, a way to get some inspiration as I sit at home rather than congregating, mostly because of CoVid, somely because I don't want to go to my Church, and secretly, I'm relieved. 

I can only read a few pages at a time, then I have to think about her words for a few minutes to a week, before picking up and moving forward. 

There are a few pieces that do this to me: Terryl Givens' "The Mormon God Who Weeps," and Michael Singer's "The Untethered Soul." Writings that hit deep, leave an impact, and make me think, for days, weeks, months, after reading. 

In Mormonism, congregations are based on geography, not on choice. You go to church with your neighbors (or are assigned), which, hopefully, creates that sense of community, based on location. Now, that's pretty much next-door, neighborhood in Utah, yet in other areas, that could be those in the same town, not necessarily neighbors. And in building community, the Church is saying, "There is always someone you can reach out to help, to serve, to tend and befriend." This also means there is always someone watching you - "keeping their eyes" on you - supposedly. 

And for the most part, this works. 

Yet as Evans wrote about leaving one "church" and searching for another "congregation," one which met her needs, I am angered and frustrated as I read, because Evans could search, she had options. And I don't feel similar.  I hunger for a similar opportunity - to search within my faith for a congregation where I can be/have friends, be a neighbor, share and laugh with like-minded people. In my Church we don't follow a Pastor, we stay and wait for the Bishop to change, basically every 5 years. Yet 5 years is a long time to be unfulfilled, feeling like an outsider, not understanding the leader's direction, purpose, intent - even upon asking. 

Evans mentions searching for a congregation that fed her; where she could be more liberal, be more grounded, have deep conversations and search scriptures and ask questions, and feel safe and feel challenged. Oh my, that would be nice.

A friend, a youth pastor, has been asked to move to an area and start a church, within Evans faith beliefs, however, with a more liberal approach with a more accepting of differences philosophy.  And he asks Evans and her husband if they'd like to go with him. 

And she is beyond ecstatic, seeing this as an answer to her prayers. 

And here I sit, where changing congregations actually means moving from my home. And while the new Bishop is great, the congregation's mentality hasn't changed, and mine has never fit - I have no peers, I have maybe 3 friends, and Scott and I don't find a home in the Church, just as much our fault as anyone's. If people, not buildings, make a Church, where is mine? Who is mine? 

So on Sunday mornings, as I wait for the online Sacrament meeting to begin, trying to be diligent in "attending," thinking this is a time to be a part of the virtual community, I am reminded of the depths of my loneliness and the despair I feel at my lack of options. 

Not happy

Not sad

Just lonely

On Sunday mornings.