Let me tell you a story.
When I was a kid, my family was generally irreligious. We never went to church on Sundays, never attended Christmas or Easter services, and never spoke about God in any meaningful way.
To be fair, my mother had some history with the church, but it focused more on meeting humanitarian needs rather than the questions of sin and salvation. She served as a treasurer’s assistant and kept minutes of board meetings, too, but attendance was never her interest.
For me, I was dropped off at church for Sunday School and “big” church while she grocery shopped. It may have been her only peace and quiet all week as we were a family of four kids (I was the youngest by a wide margin).
I managed to complete confirmation classes—these were doctrinal and service-oriented tasks much like Boy Scouts only spiritual in nature.
However, after the age of 12, I pretty much said “adios” to church and went my way. It wasn’t that church was bad; it was simply boring and failed to answer the deep thoughts that adolescence seems to bring. Increasingly, I thought Christians were required to check their brains at the door each week.
By 20, I was in full hedonistic mode. I had partied like a rock star, been involved in promiscuous sex, and concluded God was a crutch for the weak minded. I was strong, capable, and made enough money to share an apartment with a childhood friend.
Then, I met and married a beautiful woman. She was a church girl who had some bumps and bruises in life. Divorced, two kids, and nearly broke, achieving humility was not a problem. Add to this a family that’s disassociated from her and she was ripe for joining my world of Godlessness.
But she didn’t.
Instead, one Sunday morning about three years into marriage she was up, dressed, and preparing our own two children by then to attend a church near our home that she had heard good things.
She insisted that I could just sleep in or watch the games, but she felt a need to go.
In a fateful moment, I decided to get dressed and go with her. Was it because I was suddenly remembering with fondness my early church life? No. In fact, my sole motivation was that I did not want my wife sitting alone in church. Not jealousy, it just seemed a small ask to be with her even though nothing was demanded.
Each week, I listened with my hypocrisy antenna high in the air just waiting for leadership or membership to trip up. When nothing was obvious, I resolved to use logic. Could the hard questions be answered in a rational manner? Certainly, this was the arena where faith matters would wilt.
But they didn’t.
Had I been indoctrinated, brainwashed, confused? It did not feel like it.
It was something different. It was honest and filled with a sense of humility.
Looking back, I have learned that it is easy to discount and discard religious beliefs. But anyone who is sincere should give a fair audience to what they claim is untrue.
Eternity rests in the balance.
Kent Simmons is the pastor of Canyon Community Church in Kingman, AZ.
