I Am Not A Christian

It's true, I'm not at all Christian. It just isn't for me. Despite being raised in a society where Christianity was the main faith; being forced to say grace before every meal at my local primary school and occasionally being forced to trudge to the nearest church for Easter or on one occasion, a mock christening, did not make me an avid young follower. But to this day I feel guilty when I sit in a church. I feel like a gargantuan fraud, like the devil in disguise. I don't know what it is but churches simply make me deathly uncomfortable, the same cannot be said about other places of worship for other religions. Bizarrely enough this overwhelming feeling of discomfort and being judged for not bending my knee to the whim of the bible is only present when I find myself in a newer church. In old churches I feel small and ever so insignificant, a welcome reprieve from the usual. However I am much more likely to be struck by the architecture of these ancient buildings than anything else. I can safely say I have never entered a church (even the grandest) and felt a heavenly presence. You may see me stop and gaze upwards, but my head is only filled with admiration for those who built such a magnificent place. When I wrote this piece originally I was sitting within a church in South Woodford in London. And yes I was uncomfortable and unsettled, but more because of the incredibly rigid church, my usual guilt trip was oddly absent.

I was awestruck, not by the church, not by a godly present. No. The choir, It was an incredible sound. Now choral music will never particularly be to my taste. But I adore harmony, voices intertwining and creating beautiful aural art. There is no better place to hear that than a church. The ethereal sounds that a group of talented singers can make is second to none. So I sat there, in the front most pew, listening to a choir practise; unable to carry a tune in a reinforced titanium bucket myself. But utterly absorbed by the sound. I listened to them sing in Latin whilst above all I head a single distinctive rich tenor voice guide those who were unsure of where to go. His sister stood before the choir, conducting like a madwoman. Creating something quite spectacular. Every member a part of a private little music bubble, not realising the clear, swelling beauty of their creation and its mind blowing effect. I was envious of every voice, but madly in love with the sound.

Blasphemous as it may be to say. There was no god there that day, nor any other day I've found myself in a church. There was only musical magic, from the organ to the choir. I am not a Christian, I never will be. But I wouldn't hesitate to attend a midnight mass or an evensong to listen to earthly people create those unearthly sounds.
There is no God in church.
Only music.