Before her senior year, my daughter and I toured several colleges. We listened to admissions officers deliver polished presentations, walked campuses with well-trained student guides, and peeked into residence halls that brought back both the joys and frustrations of my own college experience.
One thing stood out immediately: none of the schools she was considering required chapel attendance.
That wasn’t my experience.
When I was choosing a college, I intentionally sought out a Christian school. I imagined it would feel like an extended version of church camp—immersive, meaningful, and spiritually formative.
Instead, chapel quickly became something else entirely.
Because of the way I had been taught to view faith, attendance wasn’t about growth—it was about performance. Showing up three times a week became another item to check off, reinforcing my identity as a “good” student, a “good” Christian, a “good” person.
But sitting in that seat didn’t make me good.
It made me compliant.
Over time, chapel became just another obligation—one I used to catch up on reading or mentally check out. Still, I carried the quiet belief that this was what “goodness” looked like: consistent attendance, visible participation, and the ability to follow the rules.
Years later, I’ve come to realize how easy it is to confuse goodness with performance.
