Why I go to church

The journey from Mormonism, to athieism, to going to church-

I like going to church. I don’t exactly understand why. I am, after all, an avowed, unrepentant atheist. Yet I feel perfectly at home participating in Sunday morning services.

During my recent visit to an Episcopal church, I stood, sang, read the scriptures—even took Communion. But when the pastor had everyone bow their heads in prayer, I looked around at the congregation; I think there’s something revealing about who closes their eyes during the prayer and who doesn’t. (OK, I was also checking out the cute women.)

Raised in the Mormon Church, I was the first of seven children to a pair of Brigham Young University students. I went through the motions of Mormonism’s life plan: I attended church every Sunday, paid a full tithing and attended early-morning seminary classes all four years of high school. At 19, I hopped on an airplane to serve a two-year mission in Peru.

My mission was the path towards atheism. One afternoon, I sat in the newspaper-walled home of a family living in a shantytown near the coastal city of Paita. The lesson was on how God answers prayers if we just have enough faith. Meanwhile, their two hungry, naked toddlers played outside in the dirt street.

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