Contributed by Ivana M.
Maybe you’re a follower of a higher being, looking for any excuse not to explore your bouts of doubt. Maybe you’re a lifelong atheist wondering why people are still saying “oh my god” when there isn’t one. Or maybe, just maybe, you’re a skeptic, uninterested in following anything because you’ve gone down that path so many times before. Raised Baptist, baptized Greek Orthodox, traveled the world Mormon, and maybe even took yoga to a spiritual level.
But now, now you’re done looking to others for what to do next, and Sunday Assembly reeks of a fad full of bitter ex-cult followers following, you guessed it, the newest cult. It could be a fad. It might become a cult. And it surely has followers.
But what exactly sets the Sunday Assembly apart from any other craze?
Inclusivity.
Not the “you’re always welcome through our doors, but we’ll preach it like it’s our last chance to change you” type of inclusivity. Nor is it Doubters Anonymous where we go around the circle sharing our feelings and frustrations with religion. It’s a Sunday morning of being welcomed by friends or strangers, song singing, warm fuzzy feelings, hard questions we probably don’t know the answer to, and of course, some tea and treats.
And anyone is welcome to take part.
It’s “a celebration of the one life we know we have.” If you’re skeptical of congregations with flashy lights, electric guitar solos, and the unfailing smile of greeters, so are we. Which is why we use flashy lights,* rockin’ band, and want smiley people welcoming first timers to our doors. It’s about making each aspect of the assembly transparent and genuine, without an ulterior motive. You can come again next month, or you can never come again. But you’ll get the chance to be real for at least one Sunday morning, because as long as you come as you are, you’re always welcome.
*We don’t actually have flashy lights. Not yet at least.