Yours, Mine and Ours.

 See the things you want as already yours. 

Think of them as yours, 

as belonging to you. As already 

in your possession. 

-- Robert Collier

I've been thinking about something I read recently that I can't find now (in a book, not online, which makes it harder) and so my apologies to the author because I want to quote you exactly but I don't remember who you are. I will have to paraphrase. 

The idea was that when a person has experienced a childhood that was in some way difficult, deficient or lacking, they often spend their adult life showering those missing elements on the people around them in an effort to make up for it. Whatever it is, they put it in the world for themselves, because no one else did. Kind of a "be the change you want to see" idea, but as a way of self-healing. Anyway, it seemed like truth to me.

But I've been thinking about it lately as it applies to my life in the church. Or I suppose I should say, "The Church", since that's a more accurate reflection of how I tend to think of it. A formal title with caps, -- large, vaguely disapproving -- a dark-suited entity that I am continually trying to please but with varying degrees of success...and also, I admit, sincerity. A mighty institution with which I sometimes feel at odds. (But then big institutions tend to make me feel uncomfortable. Also rebellious.)

In reality, that's flawed thinking on my part. I don't have a lot of church interaction that comes down to me vs. the whole mighty institution. 

I live my church life in wards, in classes, and callings. In friendships, family, hymns and prayers. In visits, and verses of scripture. In spiritual glimpses. 

My church life belongs to me. And it's about time I took more ownership.

I recently read a fascinating essay titled, Forgiving the Church and Loving the Saints: Spiritual Evolution and the Kingdom of God, by Robert A. Rees. He gives this description: "The Church . . . is imperfect. [However,] it is the best instrument the Lord has, given our agency, to effect his purposes. If it is at times inefficient, backward, repressive, it is also at times instructive, progressive and liberating. The church is like us . . . I'll go one step further: the Church is us; it is no better or no worse than we are (and that includes you and me), for the Church is what we make it."

The church is what we make it. 

I'm not sure why that simple and obvious idea struck me as revolutionary. We all show up every Sunday, and put on meetings, and share the sacrament, sing together and have discussions in an effort to better understand what is required of us, look after one another and...yes. In so doing, we make the church.

Rees says, "...the Church includes all of us who have taken upon ourselves the name of Jesus Christ and given our allegiance to his restored gospel. The Church includes the limitations, weaknesses, and prejudices as well as the faith, hope, and charity of all of us who call ourselves Mormon, from the apostles and prophets in Salt Lake City to the latest converts in New Guinea, Nigeria, and the Ukraine. We are all members of the body of Christ. We all constitute that phenomenon known as his church, and therefore we must be careful in ascribing to that church over-simplistic characteristics or seeing it in terms of our own or someone else's invariably limited point of view."

I was talking to a 77-year-old member the other day, one who has been active and served in callings her whole life -- and she surprised me when she came out with this: "It doesn't bother my testimony that I don't fit in."

Huh? You don't fit in? All those years of showing up and contributing every week, being a Bishop's wife for what seemed like forever, even giving up three years of your life to lead, inspire, care for and motivate an entire mission...and you still feel you somehow don't fit in? Now that's interesting.

It also begs me to ask...well then, does anyone?

After I taught my RS lesson this week, the counselor stood up to close the meeting and she thanked me but what she said next took me by surprise. She said, "I really need to thank you...I guess just because...well, you always say exactly what I'm thinking." 

Now that was a revelation. There are other people who think like I do. And they're sometimes in the same RS room! But we would never have known that if I hadn't opened my mouth and let some of my slightly unconventional thoughts out.

I've spent many years thinking, "I wish The Church would/were _______________. You can probably fill in that blank about a million ways. Things I'd like to hear more of, things I'd like to hear less of, ideas I wish we'd explore, ideas I wish we'd erase, policies I wish we'd change, people I wish were nicer, and on and on. Probably about 40 years' worth of weekly ideas. 

But it hadn't yet occurred to me that, if I want more anything in my church experience, I have some power to put it there. 

For instance, if I'd like to hear comments in Gospel Doctrine that are more like the thoughts I'm having, I should express my own. Because suddenly that thought becomes living. It's in the room. Someone could even say they "heard it at church". And maybe someone will surprise me and agree. Maybe not, but it's out there nonetheless.

What am I protecting myself from by keeping my unique feelings and ideas under wraps? From people deciding I don't fit in? But I already assigned myself that title decades ago! 

Here's a thought: put more of myself into my ward and automatically there would be more people at church who are like me. There would be one, anyway. Creating a better, more inclusive environment -- for myself -- one Sunday at a time.  And who knows? By making a little space for myself, maybe I'll make a bit for someone else who's been quietly waiting too, looking for a crack to squeeze into.

I'm tired of feeling I don't fit in. A lifetime is a lot of Sundays, and I intend to stick it out. So maybe we should all decide to stop feeling that way and make ourselves at home. Be whatever way you "wish the church were..." Do things you "wish the church would..." The Church belongs to all of us, and our Sunday meetings belong to everyone who shows up.

Bottom line is, I'm ready to stake a claim. From here on out, my church life belongs to me.

-S.