3rd
Losing My Religion
It’s been a long time since I’ve posted here. In fact, it’s been a long time since I’ve written anything. Looking back on my old posts, I can’t help the grin creeping onto my cheeks as I cringe inside.
I remember someone who was well into their 70′s once told me that no matter how old you are, you’ll always cringe at the person you were five years ago. I’m beginning to think that the rule should be revised for 20-30 somethings - I’m cringing at the person I was even one year ago.
One year ago, almost to the date, everything was different. I wasn’t engaged yet, I was a pastor, and I was about to start a church plant. I was stretched - every ounce of me. My wallet, my patience, my faith, my hopes. Part of me admires that person I used to be. Fearless - naive, sure, but fearless - totally driven by conviction. Trusting and filled with hope.
Admiration of your past self, however, isn’t necessarily regret. There are some things that have happened that I cannot regret since they were outside of my control. I was betrayed and manipulated by leaders, friends, and an institution that asked for my everything then asked for more. When I asked for just enough to survive in return, they turned their faces and I was alone.
Five years of ministry, 38 credits of seminary, 1 year of denominational service, and 3 months of church planting later, I found myself alone with absolutely nothing. It took that long to realize that even in an institution like the church, nobody is really looking out for you. The phrase implies support - but what it actually ends up happening is that most will close their eyes and mutter a few words on your behalf, treat you out to a cheap meal, then just watch you from afar.
That’s when I decided to, for the first time in my adult life, look out for myself. I left my Bible, my robe, and my wireless mic on the altar and haven’t looked back since. Working long hours at a digital advertising agency, then coming home and reading about the industry, desperately trying to catch up to coworkers that have been exposed to this industry their whole lives. Feeling like an imposter in an unfamiliar world.
I don’t even know if anyone is on this platform anymore, but I’m writing this for myself, because today, I was promoted. Everyone is telling me how exciting this is but I still don’t feel excited. I think it’s because more than the raise and more than the title, what I’m feeling now is… that I’m not an imposter anymore. Then I realize I’ve felt like an imposter all this time. In ministry, with colleagues, with friends, with coworkers, with family…
In losing religion I found ambition, love, talent, and above all - peace. Maybe someday, I’ll look up again, but in the meantime friends… I’m doing just fine.
