I think I'm starting to get more of a feel for this...thanks for the responses so far.
I don't have much experience with churches. When I was about four, my family went to church and I went to Sunday school. I have vague memories of enjoying the activities and the stories. Then, when I was five, my mother got sick. I guess that's when we stopped going. At that age, I started feeling smug about my "beliefs." One day, another kid on the block came home from church or Sunday school and was sharing a sort of indoctrination booklet...you know, a sort of softcover book with pictures on every page and lots of true-to-life-style moral lessons about how Johnny learned to share his toys or Janey learned that God is watching over all of us.
I remember flipping through that book and thinking something like, "Yeah, right." I guess that's when I really understood what church was about. At the same time, I didn't feel any kind of pull toward religion; quite the opposite. I felt contempt for my friend and contempt for the storiettes and contempt for Sunday school...
I used to correct my parents' grammar and punctuation, too, although that started a year or two later. I suppose I was an intolerable prig.
When I was six or seven, we went to church for a few months, and my parents sat me down with my brother and asked us if we would like to continue. We both said, "No," and that was that. With the exception of a few weeks in junior high, when I tried really hard (but unsuccessfully) to believe, well, no more religion for Arch. It was the right choice for me.
When I was ten or eleven, I was riding out in the countryside, feeling as if my horse and I were one entity, and enjoying the open sky and the breeze on my face. Maybe it was a spiritual moment. Or the closest I have ever come to one.