Getting Comfortable with Being Uncomfortable

I grew up attending a fairly traditional Baptist church in a small town in NC.  I received a great deal of love and care in that place, and like many of you, I spent Sunday mornings, Sunday nights, and Wednesday nights attending programming. I became accustomed to the weekly schedule and the structure of the services. Like many of us at Pullen, there came a point when I questioned and ultimately rejected much of the theology I had been exposed to there, so I left the church for a while. But we all hold on to the familiar.

I first visited Pullen because of the theology, the welcoming and affirming position, and the focus on social justice. And then found that the familiarity of the sanctuary space and the order of service  was comfortable and maybe even comforting. I experienced a feeling of belonging. I told this story many times to people who asked me why I went to church or where I went to church.  Being a part of a congregation that is progressive in thought and action, yet still retains the familiarity of what I grew up with became my mantra.

Chalice’s sermon a couple of weeks ago (9/22 – if you didn’t hear it, stop now and listen) moved me to examine this story I have been telling. Three questions came up for me.

Am I putting my sense of comfort above that of others? The simple concept that what makes me comfortable may make someone else uncomfortable or even alienate them has stuck with me. It is a privilege for me to feel comfortable and safe in a space.  As we continue our journey of ever-becoming an anti-racist congregation, and examine our ways of doing church, I need become comfortable with being uncomfortable at times. 

Why was it easier to discard old theology than an order of service? As stated earlier, I was able to discard or put aside the theology that was a part of my early church years and embrace a wider view.  Yet things like the pulpit, the windows, the communion table, the pews, the choir, the order of service  – all tangible items not directly related to my beliefs and convictions -  were what I perceived as making me comfortable. If I can reconsider and expand core beliefs (who we are), I should certainly be open to a wider view of doing church (what we do).

What was I really trying to recreate from my early church experience?  Maybe it’s not simply the tangible aspects of church that make me feel comfortable.  Maybe the comfortable and familiar represent the love, care, and belonging I felt as a child growing up in a church that I would eventually outgrow.  The tangible can certainly be a great reminder of the belonging and is the reason we need to embrace new ways of doing church. Chalice challenged us to think about how our space and our worship practices can include diverse representation so all can experience a sense of belonging.

I hope we can ask ourselves these questions and others that may arise as we continue our journey. May we all be open to encountering and embracing the unfamiliar and the uncomfortable. Because those are the things that may create comfort and belonging for someone else.

Jill Hinton