Take me to church: what I learned as an Evangelical Christian

When I was young I accepted Jesus into my heart. I was innocent act that began a complicated relationship with the Christian Church.

In the beginning, it was simple. My mom would go to church; me and my brothers would attend Sunday school. We were taught Bible stories and memorized verses. It was also a time to see friends and play.

Our church started small, made up of a few families, mostly from the same area, who met in a local school. Eventually, as many organizations do, it began to grow. By the time I was in junior high, the church had bought its own complex of buildings and boasted a membership of a couple hundred families.

Since we were home-schooled, church was the primary social outlet during my formative years. As a young child, I attended church camps and retreats, participated in choirs and was generally quite involved. I met close friends there, many of whom where in a similar situation.

It was in junior high school that I became interested in the spiritual aspect of Christianity. One of our leaders, a young, passionate youth pastor inspired many; it was a time of great joy and discovery in my life. The music and communal song-singing gave rise to an electrifying sort of presence. I felt alive.

At the time, I was all in. When youth groups formed to lead these times of music and song, I decided to join. I have been drawn to music since I was young. An early dream of mine was to front a band, and this became a way for me to live in that dream. I took on this role with enthusiasm. I was adored by peers. I was praised by those who saw my performance.

I struggled with these conflicting realities — the innocence of my original commitment, and the shallow, self-serving nature of my environment.

At the same time, I did not quite understand everything that was being asked of me. Our leaders spoke of developing a “relationship with god,” yet did not model how to engage in that relationship.

So, eventually, without even realizing it, my life became a performance.

I struggled with these conflicting realities — the innocence of my original commitment, and the shallow, self-serving nature of my environment. Many of the “leaders” at our evangelical church paraded their position, wielding power with impunity, abandon and little care for those around them. Young people, in particular, were subject to certain said, and unsaid, standards that I later realized did not always apply to the adults.

My life was a contradiction, one that I could not reconcile.

I came to realize that the friends I made there did not care for me as I cared for them. This realization cut me to the core. Toward the end of high school, I slowly detached from the church. This change introduced me to a whole new world, one from which I had been sheltered. It was exciting, invigorating and dangerous.

In college, I came to understand more fully how my upbringing had affected my perspective. Not only was I unaware of the classic rock bands many of my friends knew well. I was also ignorant regarding social matters and recall being staunch in my beliefs, at times despite the existence of evidence to the contrary.

Over time, I have come to understand that, by living this way, the person I was harming the most was myself. I hid under a coat of lies, created an exterior that reflected what I thought the people around me wanted to see.

What I realized, once those people were gone, is that I do not wish to mold myself merely to be pleasing to others. Or to fit inside the boxes they have made for themselves.

This story was originally published Aug. 13, 2019