One Thing I Miss About Church is....

[MTL]

I miss my parish priest.

With every paving stone so far.

Boru

[abaris]

I miss all of the baked stuff. No one, and I really mean no one, bakes a cake or pie like a church lady.

Same with me, but if I want some of that stuff, I could get it without sitting through mass. They wouldn't kick me out at my local church, since they all were friends with my parents and love to have a chat with me. As do I, since, for the most part, they are lovely people.

[MTL]

I do miss the 'we're about to get pardoned' feel of the 'peace be with you' bit after communion.

That's how they get you hooked.

You're made to feel guilty as hell the rest of the time,
so that little bit of a balm at the end feels good.

Like baking in the sun all day at the beach,
then glossing over the burn with an aloe-vera ice-cube in the evening.

Dangerous little reward that is just enough to keep you coming back for more of the poison.

Like craving the salt on McDonald's french fries.

[MTL]

I love church architecture, too...but you don't have to be a church member to appreciate that.

Funny to say...the stuff I hated most about it is also the stuff I now miss, in a sense:

It did provide you with structure, a sense of purpose,

...and it also gave you a sense of maintaining HIGH STANDARDS...

This is what I suspect is at least partially responsible
for the smug, self-satisfied "holier than thou" attitude you so often get from church folk
(especially coupled with the idea that they are going to Heaven, and you are not).

I think this, and perhaps the sense of a big, extended family,
is what some former church-goers miss, without even always realizing it.

It began with getting ready Saturday night
as my mom put these torturous, tight curlers in our hair for us to try to sleep on
(my hair is naturally poker-straight)

and then the solemn business of Sunday morning:

up early,

the pleasure of the curlers' protest at being extricated,
and your unnatural new frizzy poodle-curls being shellacked into place
with lots of ozone-killing, hard-core, old-school 80s hairspray,

then getting into those uncomfortable, stiff, hot, itchy polyester dresses
and circulation-restricting tights in lovely shade of Pepto-Bismol pink;

(However I do remember that it was nice to see Dad looking dignified in his charcoal-coloured suit,
and well-worn but highly-polished black shoes,
hair and beard neatly trimmed,
after seeing him in workclothes all week
...with his dog-eared and heavily-underlined black leather Bible in his hands)

the cramped ride to church with my sisters in the back of the car,
with the youngest being forced to sit "over the bump" in the middle of the car
(yes, I'm that old)

Then marching into church, shaking the hand of the 'greeter' at the door,
being ushered to your seat, given a programme (which would be folded into a fan by the end of the day)
listening to the low, soothing, beautiful organ prelude (I liked that part)
then the service and  hymns,
then Sunday school,
then refreshments (Kool-Aid, coffee, and usually carrot-cake squares)
for "fellowship hour" (socializing in the foyer)

I also miss the teenage church boys, older than myself,
that I had crushes on,
despite my heartbreak at the fact that they weren't into gawky pre-teen girls
with poodle hair and braces.

And then finally escaping into the sunshine of the parking lot,
the ride home,
getting the hell out of those clothes for another week,
and furiously brushing the lacquer out of your tortured hair,

then lunch,

...and then the agonizing ennui of trying to "stay quiet" ALL Sunday afternoon,
as per Mom & Dad's bidding,
while Dad listens to chamber music on CBC Radio.

[vorlon13]

Upon reflection, I note I miss an MCC pastor who did hold a couple services I attended. I didn't participate in their communion, but I remember it was quite a bit more of a personal experience than what other churches do. That pastor died several years ago (not HIV). He was a super nice guy and a great person to have around when AIDS was running rampant. He gave good hug.

If the Baptists had approved of it, he would have conducted Brian's service in their church. When they found out he was MCC the family got a "HELL NO!" and they relented and let the Baptist preacher there do it.

It wasn't pretty. Brian's mom personally apologized to all of Brian's gay friends for the outrageous remarks that pastor made. (Brian was a negative example for the rest of us unSaved fucks, and if we would accept Jesus we could avoid dying the way Brian did)

[Cecelia]

I don't miss anything about church, honestly. I hated getting up at 8:00 on Sunday morning, having to get dressed up all nice. Even before I became an atheist, I stopped going to church. When I got married, Sunday was my day with my husband. Most days I wouldn't get dressed at all, or put on something that we'd both enjoy. Which is basically how my Sunday's still are. Getting up at 10:00, and then often not getting dressed all day. Sometimes I'll have to grade papers on the weekend, but I try to finish up by Saturday night. When I do finish in time, there's no way I'd want to waste my time going to church. I haven't been since I was 16.. Once my older siblings went off to college my dad would only make us go once in a while (Mom never went, she always worked on Sunday.)

My oldest daughters said it pretty well: "Why do people go to church every sunday? Don't they have anything better to do?"

[MTL]

I don't miss anything about church, honestly.  I hated getting up at 8:00 on Sunday morning, having to get dressed up all nice.  Even before I became an atheist, I stopped going to church.  When I got married, Sunday was my day with my husband.  Most days I wouldn't get dressed at all, or put on something that we'd both enjoy.  Which is basically how my Sunday's still are.  Getting up at 10:00, and then often not getting dressed all day.  Sometimes I'll have to grade papers on the weekend, but I try to finish up by Saturday night.  When I do finish in time,  there's no way I'd want to waste my time going to church.  I haven't been since I was 16..  Once my older siblings went off to college my dad would only make us go once in a while (Mom never went, she always worked on Sunday.)  

My oldest daughters said it pretty well:  "Why do people go to church every sunday?  Don't they have anything better to do?"

Well, according to the Bible, it IS supposed to be the "day of rest".

Explain to me how getting up early, after doing so all week,
and getting dressed up and cooking Sunday dinner is "restful"?

[Losty]

Church was psychological torture. I'd break down if I had to walk in there again. Nothing to miss about it

I feel the same way. I've been trying to think of something I miss. There's nothing. You won't convince me to go into another church.

[drfuzzy]

Well now, I'm down to playing ONE church service per week . . . (hey, the job used to require me to play FOUR -- I needed to watch episodes of South Park and Family Guy and episodes of the Atheist experience afterward just to kick-start my brain) . . . so I can't say "I miss _____" yet.  But I can tell you what I WILL miss:  the camaraderie with the choir folks and the fun of ripping through some really kick-ass gospel piano accompaniments with them.  I'm going to have to find some good theater accompanying work to take it's place.

[Longhorn]

I passed a chapel today. I don't usually find churches on my path, but mostly pass them with no problem. But the chapel door was open and as I walked by I caught a glimpse of the inside - elaborate stained glass windows, the grave silence and that peculiar stillness of air mixed with the smell of incense. It was like some void sucked out all the air from my lungs and left a stone in my chest. I'll be fucked if I step foot in one of those places again.