A Conference of Our Own

Already in God's House - Faith Lost and Found

by Annis Karpenko

Published May 30, 2007, The National Post

Come and worship in God’s house – the sign beckoned from outside the Anglican Church. My stomach tightened a bit. I had visited this church many times and with each visit my frustration and sadness grew and grew.

It had not always been this way. My father was Catholic, my mother Anglican, my godfather was Greek Orthodox and we celebrated Passover each year with Jewish friends who celebrated Christmas Eve with us. I worked for two years as a secretary in the United Church of Canada and my youngest daughter is pursuing her own calling to the United Church ministry.

I was a loyal church-goer in my youth in the 70s. For two years I attended twice on Sunday at an Anglican (Episcopalian) Church in the U.S. At the morning service I ran the nursery and took care of the babies while their parents attended the service. In the evening I returned for an "experimental worship" service with my friends and other like-minded church-goers. At this service we did not sit in pews, we all sat on the floor up by the altar, we sang hymns and spiritual songs with guitar, we celebrated communion with homemade bread and we wrote our own prayers of thanks. The young assistant minister was warm and inviting, my friends of all ages were there worshiping with me and our spirituality grew. This was the kind of inclusive church I loved and while religion has always been a part of my life, I am no longer a regular church-goer.

What drove me away? Silly things, really. First, the long-ago refusal of the senior minister to allot $25 for new crib sheets for the nursery. I had given my time to help out. Even though I was a teenager, parents trusted me with their babies every Sunday morning. The crib sheets were old and gross and my request was denied. My personal contribution as a church member was not honoured. Soon after that decision, the assistant minister I so loved left to take up a new post and so my connection to the church was gone. I moved away and took charge of my spiritual life through books and religion classes and discussions with friends. It was many, many years before I went back to church for other than weddings, funerals or Christmas.

In 1990, after a bout of breast cancer I tried again. In my self-examination, I wondered if the disease had come to me because I had not gone to church enough? Perhaps my spiritual commitment was not strong enough. I headed back to the Anglican Church in our neighbourhood to seek some answers but each visit frustrated me more and more. The services were too compartmentalized, too noisy, too business-like. I wanted the spirit to be in my life all the time, not just on Sunday and my time in church felt like the antithesis of the spirituality I was discovering and feeling all week long. When I stopped showing up to Sunday services the minister paid me a visit at my home. He wanted to make sure I was alright and discuss my absence. I told him of the health crisis I had faced and the self-reflection that I was doing. "But you were sick,” he said, “and now you are well. Are you not grateful for that gift from God? Don’t you think you should come to church and show your thanks?" I did not believe that God wanted me to stay well by only going to church on Sunday. I did not believe that by staying away from church, I would get sick again. I was angry and confused by his response for a long time but then my heart changed.

On a beautiful spring day in Toronto I went for a walk. The sky was blue, the birds were singing, the air smelled fresh and new. I walked by that small Anglican Church I had attended and there the sign outside read Come and worship in God’s House. Ah, ha I thought. A great smile came over my whole being. The sun shone a little brighter for then I realized, walking along this city street on a spring day, that I am already in God’s Houses. I am here every moment of every day. I knew in my heart I did not need to go back to a church to be a good or thankful person. Churches and congregations of church-goers serve a great spiritual purpose to some people, but there are some church-goers who forget that the other six days of the week, waking in their homes, driving on the roads, working at their desks, nurturing their children and their relationships, honouring their spouses and their families and friends, eating meals, bathing, writing, creating – these are also moments blessed by God and I now have confidently chosen to cherish each and every one of these moments on my own.