Summary of Carry On, Warrior: The Power of Embracing Your Messy, Beautiful Life - Book Summary (2016)

Part IV. HOLDING ON

Chapter 40. Room for One More

Craig and I are considering becoming official members of our neighborhood church. This is a big deal for us, because a few years ago we promised ourselves we wouldn’t choose a denomination. We couldn’t imagine the need for it. Still can’t, really. We consider ourselves religious rolling stones. We find it important to be the leaders of our family’s faith life instead of passing off that job. We worry that blindly following others’ interpretations of God and scripture can get dangerous. God can speak to each of us directly, after all.

But we’ve fallen for this little church, and we started wondering if our religious “freedom” wasn’t just another word for nothing left to lose. Because we know that any faith worth a damn is a faith worked out over a lifetime of relationships with other people. Church is just a commitment to try to live a life of a certain quality—a life of love, of humility, of service—alongside others for whom you will care and allow to care for you, even when that’s difficult. It’s a group of regular old humans trying to love each other and the world in superhuman ways. And so it’s a hard way of life, but to me, it’s the only way of life that makes any sense. When people ask me if faith, if church, is comforting to me, I say, “Sort of.” But mostly it’s challenging.

Still, I was afraid to join this new church. Because I don’t want to pretend to believe anything I don’t believe. I don’t want to pretend to not have doubts. And I don’t want my children to be taught things about God that I’ll have to undo. Before I joined any church, I needed permission from whomever was in charge to be different.

So I invited one of the ministers over to my house.

I was scared.

We talked for two hours. I told her all of my concerns. I wanted to join her church, but first, I wanted to make sure she wanted me. I warned her that I am a troublemaker.

I told her that I love Jesus madly and deeply, but my problem always seemed to be that I understand him quite differently than many other Christians do. And I love these other Christians, so I didn’t want offend them. I suggested that maybe it was better for me to remain unattached to any particular church rather than disrupt a perfectly lovely one.

I explained that I had all kinds of doubts and questions and negative feelings about the church’s role throughout history. But I told her I still loved the church. I felt kind of like St. Augustine, who said, “The church is a whore, but she’s my mother.” If I were to become a member of her church, I would need permission to speak my mind respectfully but freely. I would need permission to be myself. I wanted her to know all the things I believe because I knew that eventually they were all going to come out of my mouth in her church.

My minister said she understood, and she wanted me. She likes me, I think. She said our church would fit me just fine. She doesn’t mind a troublemaker or two in her fold. She said she had room for one more.

So we’ll see. My biggest fear when entering any church is always, “Oh, Jesus. What are they going to teach my babies about God?” So guess what I did? I signed up to teach Sunday school. And I’ve already fallen in love with my Sunday school team. I’m not sure they know I’m a troublemaker yet, though. God help them.