Going To Church, Or Not

MY CAREER as a church goer began a bit more than a year ago,and may soon, as soon as next Sunday, come to an end. And since there were a scant eight people in the building for yesterday's service, counting clergy, it may well be that the church I have been attending might stop going to cchurch as well, may cease to exist. The poor little thing, with nearly two hundred years of continuous congregations, might soon be laid to rest. Of those who attend, I seem to be the youngest, and I am seventy. I never expected to attend church for the rest of m life. I have been keeping that possibility in mind, while enjoying my church experience for what it is to me; an expression of open mindedness,and a chance to do as the Romans do, when in Rome. Call it my temporary immersion into mainstream America Basically, I am looking for community, and eight people, by any standards, is, one must admit, a rather limited community. And besides, these eight people I see at the local senior center every day for lucnh, which kinda defeats the purpose. I should probably either start attenging a church with a much larger membership, or, conclude my adventure altogether, and my current minister told me so in so man words immediately after his sermon Sunday. That was the catalyst. The minister, an elderly retired attorney turned lay minister, walked right up to me after the service and, mincing no words,told me that I might be better off to settle into one of those progressive Methodist churches I have recently visited. Maybe he was thinking about my spiritual long term future, maybe he was trying to discreetly discourage an unsaved person fromsullying the pews with his unreedemable presence. Imight neverknow. I do know that there seem to be a couple of ladies who stopped attending not long after I started, as if offended by having to share a Christian religious service with somebody with the audacity to come as a visitor, not a Christian. t may be that the minister pefers two ladies to one unbeliever, wants them to return to hurch, and thinks they will if I am not not there. And indeed this may be true. Bring back the ladies at all costs. Who knows? I do know this, to which I willingly and freely attest: In more than a year of hymn singing, three per Sunday, I still have not become familiar with a single hymn, owing pertly to the fact that there seems to be an unlimited number of them, and each hymn, in the course of a year, only gets sung once, for the most part. I just stand there an humm. Perhaps the minister noticed. Also, the service includes several recitations with congregational participation; I have never bothered to memorize the words of any of them; maybe the minister noticed my lips not moving, or moving improperly. After all, its not as if he has a building full of sheep to keep track of. So, yes,I am merely going through the liturgical motions, one might say. I consider it far more important that I forgive myselffor my mistakes than anyone ese, including Jesus, does so. So, I am definitely not on track to be a true Christian. I mentioned a local Unitarian church to my soon to be former minister. He told me that he had attended it once, long ago, and that he hadfound it "too weird", "too are out there". Sounds about my speed, I told him. And indeed it might be. He told me that one need not believe in an anthropomorphic god there. That appeals to me. Whaat appeals to me even more is the fond memory of Sundays moring at home, sipping coffee in my underwear, and doing my spiritual thing within the friendly confines of the temple of my mind. Or maybe I'll check out an Islamic religious service.