About a month ago, I started to write a blog that went something like this:
"I can genuinely say that church on Sunday was the worse part of my college experience.
For the past 4 years while I was away at college*, I always struggled with Sunday. Sunday meant getting up and going through the ritual, when I had a million homework assignments due the next week that I should have done instead. Sunday meant that campus was empty. Sunday had a massive existential and angsty feel to it; was it the end of the previous week or the beginning of the next? Either way, it was stressful; I was either finishing behind or starting behind. And church didn’t help it. Whether I was at Jericho Road or Resurrection, I felt like a consumer. I went to one because I believed that their vision of what the church should look like was right. I went to the other because I liked the liturgy. But each week would pass and I never seriously met other people outside my college friends. They were my community, except I had that community all week, whenever I wanted. So what was the point of church? I didn’t see one. I was far too busy to participate in anything extracurricular to Wheaton. I went because I knew I ought to. I went to “do the right thing”."
When I started this blog about a month ago, I wanted to finish it with "But here in Prague, I've found a place where I belong and I'm content." Yet a month has passed, and so my thoughts have progressed.
We'll start with these thoughts, and I will add more in the coming days.
