Just when I think that I will NEVER set foot in a Kingdom Hall again, the father of a dear friend of mine died. Now, this friend and her husband stood firmly by our side during the hubbub surrounding my dad's suicide and the funeral we decided on (no KH, no elders, no half hour infomercial), and she was having problems with her own family, so I decided to go to his funeral talk as support for her.
Nothing dramatic happened, really, but it was a good reality check. Jennie, our 13-year-old daughter, went with me and almost fell asleep from boredom and the fact that the elders were too cheap to turn the AC down to a comfortable temperature on a warm Texas Saturday afternoon. When Jennie and I walked in, people stared at us but said nothing, not a word of greeting or a smile. (NOTE: I'm not disfellowshipped, and I never attended this congregation, so I was walking in as a complete stranger to most of these people.)
I did know a couple of people and hadn't seen them in probably a decade or so. One asked me which congregation I was going to, and I cheerfully said "oh, I haven't gone in YEARS." Shocked, she started to protest and I told her that Dad's suicide was the final straw and it did take a bulldozer over my head but I was convinced that this religion wasn't where I needed to be. She literally sputtered, and I asked "didn't you hear about what happened to my dad?" and she quickly said, "no, but I don't want to hear about it." (Guess she was afraid it would shake her faith, huh?) Then she said she was sorry to hear I wasn't going to meetings, and I told her "don't be, I've never been happier."
Jennie went to an Episcopalian church last Sunday with one of her friends, and she saw a lot of differences -- for one thing, the priest made it a point to come up and meet Jennie after the service, and welcome her, as did other people. And they served muffins and coffee afterward too, right in the church. I'm glad she has the comparison.
Freedom is the most wonderful feeling!
Nina