Come and See: An Invitation for the Wary, the Curious, and the Worn-Out

Yesterday
Fr. Tommy
Community

If you haven’t been in a church in a long time, you’re not alone.

Some people have been away because life got busy, faith got complicated, or church started to feel irrelevant. Others stay away for more painful reasons: they were shamed, dismissed, manipulated, or deeply hurt by people who spoke as if they were speaking for God.

If that’s part of your story, I want to say this plainly, as a parish priest:

You don’t have to get your life “cleaned up” to visit Trinity Episcopal Church.
You don’t have to pretend you’re fine.
You don’t have to perform belief.
You don’t have to explain your past.

You can simply take up an invitation Jesus offered at the beginning of John’s Gospel:

“Come and see.” ¹

That’s the spirit in which I’m writing—because I know that for some folks, walking into a church doesn’t feel like walking into a sanctuary. It feels like walking into a place you might get judged, cornered, or pressured.

So let me be clear about the kind of welcome I’m offering.

If the Church Has Hurt You, I’m Not Here to Argue You Out of It

There’s a phrase that gets said too easily: “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

I don’t want to say that. Because for many people, church pain isn’t about hurt feelings—it’s about misused power, spiritual control, and deep psychological harm that lingers.

In fact, counseling professionals have been naming how serious this can be. A Counseling Today article from the American Counseling Association discusses religious/spiritual trauma and references research finding that “almost 75% of individuals felt ‘damaged by a church experience.’”²

That’s not a small number. And if you read that and feel your chest tighten because it rings true—please hear me: I’m not interested in minimizing what happened to you.

If you visit Trinity, you won’t be pressured to disclose your story, and you won’t be pushed to “forgive and forget” on someone else’s timetable. A healthy church doesn’t demand access to your pain. A healthy church learns to be trustworthy.
And trust is earned slowly.

A Quiet Church Can Still Be a Warm Church

I want to be honest about Trinity’s vibe.

We tend to be a bit conservative and reserved—not in the sense of being unfriendly, but in the sense of being calm, steady, and not overly “in your face.” If you’re used to churches where visitors get swarmed, that probably won’t happen here. Some people find that disappointing; others find it a relief.

But reserved does not mean indifferent.

It means you can come in quietly, sit down, breathe, and take in worship without being singled out. And over time, most visitors realize something important: people here are genuinely kind. Not flashy. Not pushy. Just real.

Trinity is a friendly community, and we want to grow—not by turning into something we’re not, but by becoming more fully what the Church is meant to be: a place where people can meet Jesus, find healing, and discover a community that’s learning how to love well.

What You Can Expect If You Visit on a Sunday

Here’s what I’d tell you if we were sitting across from each other over coffee.

You can participate as much—or as little—as you want

You can stand or sit when you’re comfortable. You can sing or not sing. You can pray quietly or just listen. There is no “participation police” here.

You don’t need to know the Episcopal rhythm

Episcopal worship has structure. Some people love it immediately because it feels grounded and reverent. Others need time to get used to it. Either way, you don’t need to arrive as an expert.

You won’t be put on the spot

We will not ask you to stand up and introduce yourself. We won’t call attention to you. You get to be a person—not a project.

Communion is handled with respect

If you’re not ready to come forward, you can stay seated. If you come forward and want a blessing instead, that’s fine. You don’t have to explain yourself.

If You’re “Spiritual But Not Religious,” You’re Still Welcome Here

A lot of people tell me, “I still believe in something… I’m just not sure I trust church.”

I get that.

You might be curious about God, but wary of religious power games. You might miss prayer, but not miss being controlled. You might want community, but fear judgment.
There’s a line attributed to Brené Brown that gets at what many people are longing for:

“True belonging never asks us to change who we are. True belonging requires us to be who we are.”³

Whatever you think of that quote, the longing behind it is real: people want a place where they can show up honestly.

My goal at Trinity isn’t to pressure you into a performance of certainty. It’s to offer you a place where your questions are allowed, your boundaries are respected, and your presence is valued—whether you return next week or not.

A Word About “Religious Trauma” (And Why I’m Naming It)

Some folks have never heard the phrase religious trauma. Others feel it in their bones.
A sociological study published in Socio-Historical Examination of Religion and Ministry reported that it is “likely that around one-third (27–33%) of U.S. adults… have experienced religious trauma at some point” in their lives.⁴

That’s sobering. And it matters, because it means: if you’re cautious, guarded, or suspicious of church, you’re not being dramatic—you’re being wise with what you’ve lived through.

Research syntheses in psychology and religion also describe common threads in religious/spiritual abuse and trauma—often involving misuse of power and harm that’s not just emotional, but spiritual, impacting a person’s identity, safety, and relationship to what they once held sacred.⁵

I’m naming this because I don’t want Trinity to be the kind of church that pretends these experiences don’t exist. If the Church is going to be part of healing, it has to be honest about the harm people have endured—sometimes at the Church’s hands.

What We’re Trying to Be at Trinity

We’re not perfect. We’re a real parish made of real people—some confident, some anxious, some hopeful, some grieving, some tired.
But here’s what I want you to know about us:

We care about worship that is reverent and rooted.
We want to be a community where people are treated with dignity.
We want to grow—not for ego, but because there are too many lonely people in this world who deserve a spiritual home.
We’re learning (sometimes slowly) how to be a church that welcomes with integrity, not hype.

And I’ll add something personal: as a priest, I’m not interested in being the gatekeeper of who’s “in” and who’s “out.” I’m interested in helping people meet Jesus in a way that brings life.

If You’re Carrying a Lot, You Don’t Have to Carry It Alone

Jesus also gave this invitation:

“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” ⁶

That doesn’t mean the Church always lives up to Jesus. We don’t. But it does mean that if your soul is tired—if you’ve been carrying grief, fear, shame, or disappointment—God is not waiting with a clipboard. God is offering rest.

Sometimes the holiest first step is simply showing up somewhere safe enough to breathe.

“Come and See”: Practical Ways to Try Trinity Without Pressure

If you’re thinking about visiting, here are a few low-pressure options:

Come on Sunday at 10:00 a.m.
Trinity Episcopal Church is at 1 Oak Avenue, Moundsville, WV 26041.
Try a weekday gathering instead
We have a Wednesday Bible Study at 11:00 a.m. and a Wednesday Healing Service at 5:00 p.m.
(Those can feel less intimidating than a Sunday service.)
Watch online first
If walking in feels like too much right now, watching online can be a gentle first step.
Reach out first (if you want to)
You can email the parish office at office@trinitymoundsville.org or call 304-845-5982. No pressure—just a way to connect if you’d like. I would love to meet with you 1-on-1 for coffee (my treat).

One Last Word, Especially If You’re Nervous

If you’re hesitant, I won’t talk you out of your instincts. Sometimes your caution has been hard-earned.

But if you’re open to one small step—one visit, one quiet Sunday, one moment in the back pew—then I’ll simply offer Jesus’ words again:

“Come and see.” ⁷

You can come exactly as you are—uncertain, curious, guarded, hopeful, skeptical, tired. And if Trinity becomes a place where you can breathe again, I’ll be grateful. If not, I’ll still be glad you took a brave step toward healing.

— Fr. Tommy Sheppard

References

1
New Revised Standard Version Bible. (1989). National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America. (John 1:39).
2
Walsh, D., & Koch, G. (2023, November). Helping clients navigate religious trauma. Counseling Today, American Counseling Association. https://www.counseling.org/publications/counseling-today-magazine/article-archive/article/legacy/helping-clients-navigate-religious-trauma
3
Brown, B. (n.d.). Dare to Lead | True belonging never asks us to change who we are. Brené Brown. Retrieved January 12, 2026, from https://brenebrown.com/art/true-belonging/
4
Slade, D. M., Smell, A., Wilson, E., & Drumsta, R. (2023). Percentage of U.S. adults suffering from religious trauma: A sociological study. Socio-Historical Examination of Religion and Ministry, 5(1), 1–28. https://doi.org/10.33929/sherm.2023.vol5.no1.01
5
Ellis, H. M., Hook, J. N., Zuniga, S., Hodge, A. S., Ford, K. M., Davis, D. E., & Van Tongeren, D. R. (2022). Religious/spiritual abuse and trauma: A systematic review of the empirical literature. Spirituality in Clinical Practice, 9(4), 213–231. https://doi.org/10.1037/scp0000301
6
New Revised Standard Version Bible. (1989). National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America. (Matthew 11:28).
7
New Revised Standard Version Bible. (1989). National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America. (John 1:39).