By: Addie Stuber

I’ve dated many types of churches. The first was an emotionally distant, orthodox one from my hometown. During our honeymoon phase, we shared hymnals and luncheon casseroles, cooed at freshly baptized babies, picked candle wax off each other’s fingers on Christmas and wore matching pastels on Easter. His favor was a weighted blanket that pinned me to the pew. His disapproval echoed my superego; a long-suffering critic who merely tolerated me.

In college, I met a church obsessed with purity and saving people from Hell. He bought poster paper and markers from the campus bookstore, staying up late to pen signs that asked: “Where will you go when you die?” He idolized the hyperbolic, fairytale love depicted in Disney movies, yet his thoughts on marriage were utilitarian. It was what you did when you could no longer burn.

In Manhattan, I was introduced to an intellectual church. I fell hard for his mind and wry smile. He was quick to espouse the rationality of belief, with help from philosophy, science and literature. Though he encouraged me to think critically, I soon realized his own worldview was fixed. We fought over his stance on women’s rights, systemic racism and marriage equality. Between swigs of leftover communion wine, he’d hotly declare: “You aren’t the same person anymore!” At least we could agree on that.

In Brooklyn, I was seduced by an artsy church. He came alive on stage, dressed in Everlane and a neon halo. We waited on the spirit like a beat drop in a club, squares of sacramental bread melting on our tongues, eager for the euphoria that followed. Offering plates weren’t passed; they surfed the crowd. My mistake was equating his youthfulness for progressiveness. In the sobering light of day, I saw the truth: his values were the same as my ex.

***

For the first time in my life, I was without a church.

Even worse, I lacked the skills necessary to function as a church-less person. I’d wake up early on Sundays with nowhere to go. I avoided friends of ex churches, not wanting to divulge the details of my breakups. I projected my bitterness onto people who were in relationships with churches that gave them joy. How dare they find fulfillment when I had been forced to go at it alone.

No church is perfect and neither am I. With time, I saw how codependency had factored into my relationships. I had taken the idea of “one body” too literally, losing my sense of self in the process of trying to please or fix the churches I was with. I had thought that finding lasting love with a church would cure me of my spiritual unrest; provide an understanding described by the Apostle Paul as “knowing fully, as I am fully known.” The expectation was an unrealistic one. There would never be a bottom to the mystery, only flashes of recognition resembling Paul’s description of a reflection in a mirror.

It was only when I stopped pursuing churches that I was able to move in a different direction. I traded my romantic notions about churches for the messiness that goes with intimacy. I shifted from needing to be with a church to wanting to be with a church. And I exchanged my cynicism for the belief there would eventually be a church that felt right. Because all it really takes is one.

***

I’m seeing a new church now. We matched online during the height of the pandemic. Daily reminders of our mortality made posturing impossible. We were too weary to be anything other than ourselves. This authenticity continues to be our saving grace.

And while I can’t predict what the future holds, I will always be enamored with how we met. All of the moments that had to go wrong in order for our paths to cross. The fact that I could have easily given up on churches, but somehow kept the faith. It’s a story of biblical proportions. It seems like nothing short of a miracle.

Addie Stuber’s stories have been featured in The Cut, The Salve, F3LL Magazine and other publications. She wrote the original screenplay for Two Pints Lighter, a movie that won Garden State Film Festival’s ‘Best Homegrown Feature’ award. Visit her website or follow her on Medium to see her latest work.