Having decided to move on from atheism, Commitment-Phobe
is touring churches of all denominations to see if she can find God

With any journey of discovery you get ups and downs, obstacles to overcome. And I have hit mine, sooner than I had expected. After a great start at a Methodist church, life knocked me for six. I found myself in one those medical dramas that most people have at one point in their life. It scared me, shook me, left me safe but rather deflated; grateful but a little angry.

It didn’t feel like the best time to walk into a church and say: “Peace be with you”. So I’ve been bunking off. I’ve done some reading (the book of Job should give you a feel for my mood) but not set foot in another church, until this Sunday. I have walked past the Methodist church where I felt something exciting happen, but holding on to my anger I went to the Roman Catholic Church this Sunday and did battle with my prejudices. I think I lost.

I think going from Methodist to Catholic was too big a challenge for me in the end. When you haven’t a clue what is going on, 90 minutes can seem like an eternity.

Even entering the building confused me. Why was everyone getting stuck just inside the main doors? I realised they were waiting their turn to cross themselves with holy water. I resigned myself to the fact that I was going to stand out as “not being from round these parts”. I again failed to blend in by not kneeling to the altar as we entered. I was faced with a series of rituals, and rather than being fascinated, I felt ostracised…

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This is an extract from the December 2013/January 2014 edition of Reform.

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