Eager to Leave

It was my first time at church. I had never really wanted to go, but a good friend of mine had finally worn me down enough to give it a try. I had always thought, “That church stuff isn’t for me,” or, “I’m a good person. What do I need church for?” or “All church is good for is making you feel guilty and asking you for money.” But then, when I finally arrived at the doors, I was greeted by smiling faces and warm welcomes from the regulars. I was expecting more of an attitude of disapproval for an outsider, but no one was like that.

When services finally began, I sat and listened to the people singing. I didn’t know any of the songs myself, so I just took it all in. There were several people with beautiful voices, and there were those who hadn’t hit one note right from start to finish. Those people sang with even more feeling, though, and all I could do was smile at their obvious love of the songs. There were a few things I didn’t understand in the lyrics. After all, I had never really been taught anything about God.

What really got me curious was the sermon, though. The preacher started talking about this Jesus character. I knew who Jesus was supposed to be, but I had never really considered what he had done. The preacher read a lot out of the Bible, using it as his main reference. It surprised me to hear the words he read, telling a somewhat graphic story of this one man’s abuse and execution. The sermon went on for a while, but I never once looked at my watch. I was so intent on what the preacher was saying about sin and sacrifice that it only felt like a moment had passed by the time he was getting to the heart of his lesson.

“Now is the time to act,” he said passionately. “Now is the time to lay aside your sin and take up the cross and follow Jesus.”

He went on and talked about baptism and how it was a step on the way to salvation. It seemed too easy, but he got my attention. I wanted to know more.

“If you are not a Christian yet and we can help you in any way,” he started, but as he began to say these words, the people all around me started packing away their things. The rustling of papers and the movement of people slipping on their jackets were distracting. The preacher was still talking, inviting anyone who had a need or a desire to learn more, as I did, to come forward and make that need known, and they would help and pray for that person. But everyone seemed like they wanted to leave, like they had something important that they couldn’t be late for, some pressing appointment that they needed to hurry to as soon as things were done here. They were all getting ready for the next song that they knew was coming, flipping through pages and moving around in their seats.

I didn’t want to hold these people up just because I was ignorant of what they already knew, just because I wanted to learn. So, when he said, “Come now as we stand and sing”, I stayed where I was. I didn’t go forward, though I felt the pull strongly. I didn’t want to be a hindrance to these people, to keep them here longer just because of me. I stayed put and let the moment pass by.

When the service was over, people started talking and filing out through the doors to go home or go out to get something to eat. A few people stopped to talk to me, but I tried not to keep them. I kept my answers short and let them go on their way. Maybe it wasn’t as urgent as the preacher had made it sound. Maybe I didn’t need to do anything about this sin he had talked about. I had been fine so far, after all. Life would go on whether I went forward or not.

So that night, when I left and went back home, I went back to the way things were. If the people who always went to church didn’t think that going forward was that important, then why should I? I didn’t really know anything about God anyway. It obviously wasn’t that serious.