At a time of environmental crises, tension and war between countries, economic upheaval and high human need around the globe, it may seem unrelated to talk about why I go to a Christian church.
For a growing number of people in the western world, church is an obsolete and irrelevant institution, a place in the recent past of bad behaviour and hypocritical people, a place most sane people avoid.
Anyway, hasn’t Christianity been displaced by more modern scientific thinking?
Born in 1950, in Te Awamutu, western Waikato, I am part of a generation that experienced options and freedoms that were denied to my parents because of war and economic depression.
After high school, I was able to leave home, go to university, experience international travel, and much more.
My early life on a farm was thoroughly enjoyable, with freedom and time to explore, imagine, tinker, plot and roam unconstrained with my brothers.
However, it was during my teens as I struggled to understand myself, my parent’s separation, my stepfather’s early death, my growing enjoyment of learning, and navigating the scope and intensity of new relationships, that I became a Christian, much to the surprise of my friends and myself.
It’s hard to describe the transforming process of believing in a saving reality larger than myself because it involves the core of being human and the complex interactions of experience, reason, and belief.
Also, my vocab is often inadequate for understanding and explaining my internal landscape.
But it was the love of Christ that brought forgiveness, healing and the potential of wholeness within a discordant personality that drew me into a church.
Christianity is inherently welcoming, and I accepted Christ’s call to follow, to sit, to be still, to listen, to look and to go. These gentle encouragements drew me in to know, trust and experience the love of God.
I entered a different world that made the current world more vivid and real, more colourful and purposeful, and people more interesting and wonderful.
It is akin to the experience I have when I drive into Central Otago from my home in Dunedin.
Depending on our route, as we reach Millers Flat or cross Lee Stream or emerge from the Shag Valley, leaving the green forested hills and pasture along the coast, suddenly I am aware of entering a new larger world of higher mountains, tawny bold landscapes, warmer and colder and clearer climates, where skyscapes keep me endlessly in amazement.
It is the same world, but the perspective is different.
After half a century, Christ’s call to me continues to provide a life and alternative path.
At church I gather with people I did not select, to worship in a format that at times may not fit my personality, and in a very ordinary setting (we worship in a school hall), but these don’t really matter.
More significant, for me, are that all present are taking time to respond to the love and call of God, and we are there for each other.
In worship we withdraw from daily activities, to pray and sing, listen and receive, laugh and cry, and to place our concerns and priorities into the hands of God.
Participating, we are refreshed, empowered in hope to enter the new week, once again able to walk into the challenges and complexities of personal, family, community, country and global life.
Church allows me to face reality, the hurt and suffering, the wonder and joy, the good and the evil, both in myself and others, and gives meaning and purpose to my vocation as an ecologist, as part of a family, and as a neighbour and citizen.
For many, attending church may seem an absurd practice, and very occasionally I, too, have these thoughts.
However, overwhelmingly church remains a weekly saving grace. It is where I discover and receive love, and the routine continually enhances my relationships, nourishes my service and encourages me to care about the world.
It is fuel for my life and keeps me returning to the essentials and away from personal cynicism, insularity and apathy.
Now semi-retired, I remain a work in progress, but regularly attending church has been an essential part of my journey, providing support, friendship and vision along the way.
■ Bill Lee is a member of Leith Valley Presbyterian church in Dunedin
