So much to say here, Klara Jane. First I'll say that I feel for you. It is difficult to have a relationship founder on things like defensiveness and 'deafness.' To others it may seem that those are trivial, but they aren't.
I grew up Methodist, and as I mentioned in my earlier comment, I felt called to the ministry in my teens. That's why I started studying Greek, in order to read the New Testament. I realized in college that I was not pastoral material (very long story) but I loved Greek, so I followed that passion to a Ph.D., then a university position, and here I am 30+ years later.
My attendance at church has not been consistent throughout my life, but I have been fairly regular here in Asheville for the last 20+ years. I've found several wonderful churches here, but my "home" right now is Haywood Street Congregation (https://haywoodstreet.org/), a ministry with Asheville's poor and homeless. The emphasis is on relationship rather than service; anything that would separate the "haves" from the "have-nots" is undermined, and the dignity of everyone is uplifted in every way possible.
The way that that mission informs the "sermon" is unique, in my experience. A passage of Scripture is printed in the bulletin and someone reads it, often someone who can't read well (!) but wants to. The pastor will give a few introductory remarks and then pose a question: Why does Jesus say this or do this in this passage? For the next 10-15 minutes, the congregation speaks. I'm free to speak, but I get to speak in public all the time: it's my job. So I usually stay quiet. The voices of those who are rarely or never listened to are privileged, and everything they offer, the pastor weaves into his sermon. Each contribution is praised as "excellent" or "true" or "insightful" or "faithful." And then the pastor concludes. We don't refer to it as a "sermon," in fact, but a "conversational homily." I've never seen anything like it, and it can be remarkably moving.
To speak personally, I suppose I don't NEED someone to love, but there is a part of me that is activated in an intimate relationship that atrophies without it. I like the way a relationship opens up and deepens my life. If I want to become more compassionate, more open-hearted, more aware of different experiences, I've found that loving relationships accelerate that. I'm less likely to do that on my own. I feel like some of those good parts of me tend to go dormant when I am my primary focus. I guess that I'm not quite sure where "want" ends and "need" begins, but I live pretty close to that line.
Lovely conversing with you, Klara Jane. I appreciate you.
