Treasures in Heaven

As I mentioned in an earlier post, after many years away from church, I went back to church, though not to a Southern Baptist church. About 7 years ago, I started looking for a church, and found one I was comfortable in, an Episcopal church. I found there a Christianity that resonated with me, one that was more about the journey than the destination. Doubts were expected, not discouraged. And I found people who cared about me, who were there to help me during a very rough time in my life.

Then we moved to another state, and had to leave that church behind. We looked around a bit, and started attending another Episcopal church not far from our house. I really like the rector at the church, but am beginning to accept that the church itself is not where I’m supposed to be. I’m back to feeling like I don’t fit in. While not uniformly so, this generally of a more conservative, evangelical bent than our old church, and frankly, despite the evangelical feel, less friendly. We’ve been attending that church almost two years now, yet most Sundays, I can stand around during the coffee time and no one will speak to me other than to nod a hello. It’s not that we haven’t gotten involved, either; my husband sings in the choir, and I’m teaching Sunday school.

I can be difficult to get to know, I’ll admit. I’m a reserved person and an introvert. But while the lack of friendliness is an annoyance, what’s really convincing me that I don’t fit in here is not that. It’s that when I sit in Sunday school teacher meetings, what I hear doesn’t resonate with me.

An example. This Sunday, the lesson for the kids is the Prodigal Son. Our Sunday school director sent out email today to the teachers, as she does every Sunday, to let us know what’s going on this Sunday, anything we should be aware of, especially things that impact the time available to us. But this week, she included a little theology in her email.

She shared that she had always found this parable difficult to understand. She always related to the faithful son, who is unhappy that the father makes such a big deal when the black sheep son returns. Then she read the line where the father says Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. She then realized that while the ungodly might get saved and get into heaven at the last minute, they will have nothing, while the faithful will inherit everything.

I read that today, and it just hit me so wrong. For me, Christianity is not a competitive sport. Is there really score-keeping in heaven? This feels like a jealous, exclusionary Christianity, a “we’re better than them” mentality.

The parable of the Prodigal Son says something different to me. The faithful son stayed home and did his duty, and had a good life. He had a home, a family, friends, and plenty to eat. The lost son ended up in a hell on earth, living among the pigs. He had no food, no place to live, no friends or family. He was alone, separate.

I guess I’m just not a “build up treasures in heaven” kind of Christian. I think that faithful living is its own reward. When I remember to turn toward God, when I remember to stop trying to solve everything on my own and let God have room to work, my life goes a lot better. I don’t know what happens after I die, and I don’t really care. I care about trying to live my life today true to myself and true to God. What other people choose to do is their business; I don’t want to waste time worrying about whether I’ve got more “treasures in heaven” than they do.

I’m probably being too harsh on the Sunday school director, who really is a good woman. This is just the culmination of a series of things, all of which touch a nerve that’s still a little raw even after many years away from the conservative church I grew up in.