Today, as I drove to Mass, I found myself in a moment of reflection that led me to a decision I hadn’t expected. I made a U-turn, drove back home, and asked myself, "Why?" Why had I been so quick to turn around and leave, especially when I had planned on attending? It wasn’t a decision made out of laziness or forgetfulness. It was more of an internal, almost instinctive response.
To be honest, I don’t think that church should be an obligation. In a world that’s increasingly busy and complex, the idea of church attendance sometimes feels more like a chore than a true, spiritual experience. The pressure to show up every Sunday, to be seen in the pews, can seem empty if it’s not rooted in a personal connection to the faith. I’ve found that I struggle with social interaction, and sometimes, the experience of sitting in a church, surrounded by people, can feel isolating, rather than unifying. When the service turns into what I often refer to as a "social gospel," with self-help advice being handed out from the pulpit, it can feel as though the deeper, spiritual meaning of the Mass is getting lost in the noise. No one really walks away changed by these motivational tidbits, and it can feel more like a hollow exercise than a time for reflection and connection.
Now, before anyone jumps to conclusions about my specific church, let me clarify: this isn’t a critique of any particular place I’ve attended. I’ve simply come to recognize that the way I connect with faith is deeply personal, and it doesn’t always align with the expectations of social gatherings or even the prescribed format of weekly services. My journey with church is not one defined by tradition or obligation—it’s a space for me to wrestle with my beliefs, to engage with the divine in a way that feels genuine. It’s not about fitting into a mold of weekly attendance or social interaction; it’s about finding meaning in the quiet moments, the personal reflections, the intimate connection to the sacred.
Part of this struggle, for me, likely stems from my own experiences growing up in the church. I was raised Baptist, and my understanding of faith was shaped within that framework—one that was very different from the traditions and practices of the Catholic Church. When I made the decision to start attending Catholic Mass over the past year, I knew I was stepping into new territory. The rituals, the structure, and even the approach to community and worship were unfamiliar to me. It’s been a journey of adjustment, of understanding, and at times, of feeling like an outsider. But it’s also been a journey of growth, where I’ve had to reconcile the faith of my upbringing with the new path I’m forging
As a kid, I never felt like I truly belonged in church. It became a place of social hierarchy rather than spiritual growth. Imagine being the kid who, despite being well-liked, woke up on their first away trip with toothpaste in their hair. That kind of thing sticks with you. It left me with a sense that church was a space where fitting in mattered more than faith itself, and that impression lingered for years. As an adult, that early feeling has shaped my approach to religion—I’m not here for social validation or obligatory participation. I’m here because I want to seek something deeper.
This doesn’t mean I’ve abandoned the practice of faith. On the contrary, I still yearn for a connection to something greater than myself. But it’s no longer about forcing myself into a place because it’s what’s expected. It’s about discovering how my faith can live in my daily life, in the quiet moments when no one is watching, and in my personal conversations with God. I’m learning that faith doesn’t need to look a certain way. It doesn’t need to fit a schedule or a tradition to be real.
For anyone else who’s navigating a similar struggle, I’d encourage you to remember that faith is deeply personal. If the traditional format of church doesn’t resonate with you, that’s okay. Faith isn’t about following a prescribed path—it’s about walking your own. If that means stepping away from the social pressures and finding space for personal reflection, then that’s where you need to be. The journey isn’t about perfection or conformity; it’s about seeking the truth in your own way.
Sometimes, taking a step back from the "obligatory" parts of faith can open the door to a deeper, more authentic relationship with it. And in the end, maybe that’s the most important part.
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