The enjoyment in-balance of church

My wife and I just returned from a holiday to Europe. Being part German, she goes every year, I only head over every second year.

The itinerary usually breaks down to a mixture of cathedrals/churches/monasteries, Roman ruins, Medieval towns, picturesque German villages and the obligatory family visitations.

This year, while we were in Bonn, we ended up listening to a choir concert within one of the local Doms.

My wife, who sings choral, loved it.

I endured it.

In attendance because I knew that she would throughly enjoy it.

Unsurprisingly, she appreciated the concert on a whole different level than I did.

She recognised the songs.

She knew the composers (a few even personally).

She valued the quality of the singing in a far deeper way than I could.

The equivalent would be when my wife and I attend a sporting event.

I, having followed the sport - be it cricket or rugby league - will understand what’s happening far more than my spouse.

I will know the intricacies of the rules and the stories within the contest.

In short, I will appreciate the event on a similar level to my wife in a choir concert.

And yet, we both attend.

I wonder if this is a similar feeling within churches.

Some people are very engaged.

They are comfortable with the social cues.

They are deeply familiar with the context of the stories.

They are personally engaged with the message and, often, the messengers.

How does this dynamic play out when you’re in a relationship where one of your has been a believer, or at least a member of a particular church, for a long time which your partner is still fairly unfamiliar?

Is there a disconnect in the enjoyment of the experience?

Is there a greater reluctance to attend?

There are many good reasons for believers to avoid entering romantic relationships with unbelievers, but the inability to share church with that person is something which I feel is underplayed.