Unfettered Faith

I was in church this past Sunday, and I had a very startling realization. I had gotten there a little earlier than I normally would have, and I was alone. Being there sooner than usual, there were more seats available toward the front. Typically, I sit in the same general spot every time. Right side, about halfway up, close to the aisle. It’s just where I go. Any time I have been seated elsewhere, I have felt out of place. Almost off balance.

So this past Sunday, I ventured closer to the stage than I normally would have (still on the right side, of course). About 6 rows back from the stage. There was an entire row practically empty, so it was very easy to slide in and sit. There was a stranger to my right, but I left a seat between us, as my social anxiety demands. However, shortly after, a man scooted in and sat to my left, directly next to me. Despite there being enough seats for him to leave a divider seat as well. He was friendly and social, speaking to many of the people around us. Far more extroverted than I could be on my best day. But he was also chatty with me. I forced myself to match his energy and make conversation with him. Well, as much conversation as I was capable of before my poor stage-fright brain went blank on how to form coherent words.

Service started and we stood to sing and worship, which has become one of my favorite parts of church. This man was animated and sang loudly, raising his hands and praising without hesitation or shame. It was reassuring for me, as it made me feel less self-conscious about sharing my own feelings. Our church is usually fairly participatory when it comes to worship. It’s certainly not your nana’s church with hymnals and rigid posture as the organ player moves through the songs. But on this particular day, the singing was so much louder. I could hear so many voices lifting up, celebrating God. It was like a wave of worship washing over me, again and again. But this wasn’t a wave that drowned, it wrapped around me and lifted my spirit. Pulled me into a sense of belonging and welcome. It was miraculous and awe-inspiring. It gave me chills, and I wondered why today was so much stronger than usual.

And then I realized… I was closer to the front, which meant I had more people behind me. More voices to lift up. Why wasn’t it this loud from halfway back? There were still people behind me when I sat in my regular spot. The more I thought about it, the more I started to wonder… do people subconsciously choose their seats based on how comfortable they feel in their ability to praise and worship? Do the people who frequently opt for the more distant seats sing quieter or not at all? Is it because they feel the way that I do? Self conscious. Inexperienced. Unqualified. Was I so comfortable halfway between the front and back because I felt that is where I belonged? Not good enough to be at the front, but not bad enough to be in the back.

Naturally, as my undiagnosed ADHD brain operates, these thoughts all happened within a very short period of time, and I had to reign myself in to refocus on the message. After the fact, I had another epiphany of sorts. The farther you back you sit from the stage, the fewer people you have behind you. You can still see and hear what’s happening, but you don’t get the same experience as the people who have chosen to get closer. Its a rather fitting parallel for your relationship with Jesus, don’t you think?