Finding Peace in the Church: Understanding Different Paths to Jesus

I know that for some people, stepping into a church can feel daunting. My husband of 40 years, shaped by the historical oppression of the Catholic Church in Quebec, carries a deep disdain for the institution. He has witnessed how it abused its power in families and inflicted harm, especially on the young. Yet, he truly loves Jesus and holds Him in his heart—he simply cannot embrace the Church as an institution.

Growing up in a Protestant family, I remember fiery sermons that always left me feeling I was never quite good enough, never perfect enough to measure up. In my own spiritual journey with God, I found my way to Catholicism, where I discovered profound acceptance: I am a human being deeply loved by God exactly as I am—imperfect, yet being gently shaped by His hands into the person He created me to be.

As Scripture beautifully expresses it:

“Yet, LORD, you are our father; we are the clay, and you are the potter: we are all the work of your hand” (Isaiah 64:8, NABRE).

Or, as God declares through the prophet Jeremiah:

“Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand” (Jeremiah 18:6, NABRE).

These passages remind me that God is the divine Potter, patiently molding us with love, even through our flaws.

I deeply understand the fear, anxiety, and even disdain that many feel toward the Church. Our true walk with God is intensely personal—an individual awakening to discover Him and dwell in His presence. We see this even in the young Jesus, who at age twelve stayed behind in the temple, His Father’s house, for three days, seeking and engaging with divine truth (see Luke 2:41-52, NABRE).

For many, the Church is essential to their religious practice and their encounter with Jesus. It provides structure, community, sacraments, and support through the parish. For others, like me, the journey with Jesus permeates every facet of life—an unexplainable, intimate communion that sometimes feels close and at other times distant. For me, attending church is often about sitting silently with God. I can get distracted by the noise and bustle at a local parish, so I prefer the profound silence of a cathedral, where I can meditate quietly. When I go to Mass on Sunday, it’s usually because God has moved me to hear a specific message that day.

The Church as an institution serves each believer differently. Some thrive on the weekly rhythm, socialization, and communal support of a parish. For others, the journey is quieter and more internal—a deeply personal path of silent communion.

To those who feel disdain for the Church as an institution: I understand, and I do not judge you.

I can only lift my prayers heavenward and ask the Holy Spirit to heal the wounds you have suffered at the hands of the Church’s human representatives. We are all human, after all, and that means we are all imperfect—prone to sin and in need of God’s mercy.

In the end, whether we find Jesus through the structure of the Church or in the quiet depths of personal prayer, we are all being shaped by the same loving hands. May we each continue our journey toward Him with open hearts.