This past Christmas break was my first time returning home since I started college in August. As most students must endure, I had to make the mandatory rounds visiting family, attending holiday parties, and acting as if I didn’t feel like I was stuck in a three-week-long time warp. Part of the requirements of me having a roof over my head and air to breathe was accompanying my parents to the annual Christmas Eve service at our community church. I was expecting the typical hour of holiday carols and story of Jesus’ birth. What I ended up with was the overwhelming realization that I didn’t belong anymore. And that was okay. No, that was great.

If you’ve ever seen Room, directed by Lenny Abrahamson, then you’ll understand how I felt after leaving the Christmas Eve service. It was like all I had known since birth was that room, and coming to my college ministry was like discovering the whole world of different ways to connect to God outside of that room. However, returning to that room, that church, I couldn’t understand why people were still there. My mind couldn’t fathom how they could fall into this repetitive routine of coming to church, following the same boring and ineffective format, and leaving. Yes, that was practicing worship. However, I could no longer see it as practicing Christianity.

By no means am I coming here professing I am the most humble and worthy servant of God. What I am attempting to convey is that my perspective of what encompasses a real and true walk with Christ has blown far beyond the winds of home. I was talking with an old friend who is studying Christianity, and we had a lengthy conversation about the spiral of the church. Members come, pray, get forgiven, and leave. That is it. They simply take what they need from the church to feel good enough about themselves to continue the week. The passion and love is absent. When I recognized this in my own congregation, I felt guilty. I was guilty that I had been able to grow and experience a whole new perspective. I also felt isolated. I knew that I no longer could relate or appreciate the way my home church functioned. I could no longer listen to a narcissistic pastor talk solely about himself and his righteousness. It became clear that what is right and wrong should be my decision, not the heads of the church who knew little about my personal relationship with Him.

It took time, but that guilt and isolation turned into Thanksgiving.

In my college ministry, we are one. There are few people coming, sitting, and leaving without anything gained but a self-pat on the back. There is a community. Wednesday night dinners, family groups, prayer groups, mission trips, testimonials, and interactive worship that highlights members of our community and peers. My peers became my family, and my life became more fulfilling. College is a time for growth and realization. I became proud to have the opportunity to grow and intentionally participate in my community. There is no more passive listening with time checks every few minutes. There is a longing for more, a happiness, and a belonging. I thank God that I no longer belong at my home church.