Like many Americans I am unemployed. And a very bright side of being unemployed these past few months has been the significant amount of time I’ve gotten to spend with my boys.

My wife and I have, hands down, the best four boys on the planet (no offense to you, the reader, it’s just true). Ezekiel is 7, Taieze is 5, Jaemien is (terribly) 2, and Huck is 0 (well, 5 weeks to be exact). Zeke, Tai, Jae and Huck. They are incredible in every way.

(from left to right) Tai, Jae, Zeke, and Lil' Huck

Spending all day every day with them has provided me more space than usual to reflect on what it means to be a father. As I watch each of my kids grow, develop, mature and move from milestone to milestone, I find myself asking things like:

How will I determine if I’ve been a good dad?

What does it mean to be a good dad?

What do I hope for for my boys?

What’s most important to me about how I raise Zeke, Tai, Jae and Huck?

A number of different answers could (and probably should) be given to these questions, but one thing kept coming to me over and over again as I reflected on what I thought it would mean for me to, when all is said and done, “be a successful father.” And here is that thing: If I can add to the world four loving, caring and respectful husbands, who try their best to be loving, caring and respectful fathers, then I will have done my job and done it well.

(I’ll quickly amend that by saying that my boys don’t have to marry and/or have kids for the above sentiment to be true. Rather, if my boys grow up to be the “type of men” who, if married or had kids, would be loving, caring and respectful husbands/fathers, etc…)

You see, for me it is far more important that Zeke, Tai, Jae and Huck learn what it means to respect women than it is that they have a good education.

It is far more important to me that they learn the virtue of love as being greater than all others than it is that they have a successful career.

It is far more important to me that they identify with the oppressed and are full of caring and compassion (which starts at home) than it is that they make a difference in the world (ironic side note: IF they do THIS [identify with oppressed] then they’ll automatically do THAT [make a difference in the world]).

It is far more important to me that they lean in to the worlds of their children (if they have them) and be active and involved in loving and nurturing them than it is that they make money, or become famous, or develop influence.

It is far more important, even, that my boys become these types of men than it is that they become Christians. (ironic side note: IF they do THIS [become the above types of men] then they will automatically be men who live in the Way of Jesus]).

I realize I’m not breaking any ground here. (Well, perhaps on that last one. Some people would probably view “becoming a saved Christian” as more important than anything else).

I’m sure many fathers have had these same thoughts, or would easily agree with them. But for me, to reflect on these things, is significant. Because I think the world NEEDS men who respect women. I think the world NEEDS fathers who are involved in their kids’ lives. Because I think the world NEEDS men who love and adore their wives (or husbands) at the cost of all else.

If Zeke, Tai, Jae and Huck grow up to be these sorts of men, then I will have done my job as their father.

(p.s. All the “I” statements in this blog should also be read as “we,” for my amazing wife certainly feels a similar (if not the same) way.)

Now… what if we ever have a girl…!!?!

When a show you loved gets hacked after one season (or worse, mid-season!) you grumble and curse the network under your breath. “How can you cut _____________, but keep trash like ______________ on the air!?!?!”

And then, when it happens again… and again… and again… you start to guard your media-heart a little more.

Anyways, the other day I was reading about a new series being created by one of my favorite writers: Aaron Sorkin.
Sorkin created shows like The West Wing and Sports Night, and wrote the amazing screenplay for The Social Network. He is currently working on a new show that will be similar to Sports Night but in the context of a News Channel. Sounds awesome!

Another show he created that I loved, but got dropped after only one season, was Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. And I found myself ticked off all over again that a brilliant, smart, funny and good show like that was not picked up by for more seasons. Which got me to thinking: what other shows do I wish didn’t die so early?

Which then got me thinking: what shows had a great run, but I still miss because they were just so darn good?

So, here’s a list of some of my favorite television shows that I miss. Some because they were killed too early, and others that had a great run but I still miss them anyways.

SHOWS THAT DIED TOO YOUNG

Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip – As stated, a smart, funny and well written “behind the scenes” dramedy that took place on a variety-show. Came out at the same time as 30 Rock, and with similar premises but drastically different approaches, 30 Rock (which is great, BTW) came out the clear winner. But if you have Netflix, do yourself a solid and go watch the 22 episodes of this great show that only lasted one season. Perhaps if they would have dropped “on the Sunset Strip,” more would have watched? I wish.

Pushing Daisies – Originality is hard to come by. It’s easy to make another CSI or Law and Order or Real Housewives. But Pushing Daisies stood out for its quirky characters, its original concept, its unique look, and its pure fun-ness. Even with 17 Emmy nods and 7 wins, it still only lasted 2 seasons. I wish Ned could touch this show and bring it back from the dead (although unfortunately it would only last 60 seconds, after which another nearby show would have to die… Wait… that could be perfect! #desperatehousewives)

Better Off Ted – Witty and chalk full of satirical humor, this comedy was a blast! Ted, the protagonist, would narrate each episode by breaking the fourth wall, and trust me, it sounds corny but they made it work. All while also mocking big business and mega conglomerations. Also, brilliant acting by the wonderful Portia de Rossi. This is also on Netflix, so please… go enjoy!

SHOWS THAT HAD A GREAT RUN BUT I STILL MISS

Lost – Really? Was there any doubt this would be on my list? This show may have done more to change TV since CSI. Crazy original, brilliant cast, interesting and engaging story lines, mind-bending plot twists, all covered in a sweet sauce of love. TV, for me, was never better than when LOST was on. 6 seasons of awesomeness, and I still miss it.

The West Wing – After Lost, this probably ranks as my favorite show of all time. I’m a sucker for Sorkin, what can I say. I fell in love with the characters in this show like no other. A fascinating look in to the world of politics, for 7 seasons The West Wing was America’s other (and usually more interesting) White House Staff.

Gilmore Girls – After you stop snickering at me, listen to me say that this was a great show. Created by Amy Sherman Paladino, and written in the style of Sorkin (with the “always moving, always talking characters) Gilmore Girls was an honest look at the life and relationship between a (single) mom and her daughter. Lauren Graham is incredible, and if you like her at all on Parenthood then trust me, she was WAY better on Gilmore Girls. A massive thanks to my wife for getting me hooked on this show. We both mourned when it went off the air after 7 seasons.

____________________

What about you?

Have you had a “favorite show” that died too early?

And what are some of your all-time favorites from the past that you can’t help but miss?

For two months (November-December) I grew out my beard, calling it my “depression beard.”
And then, on January 1st, I shaved it all off.

Here is a video of that moment.

(check out this post, and the talk I gave last week, to learn more about my “depression beard,” what it meant to me, and how it relates to “Doubt” in our Christian faith.)

The De-Evolution of a Beard from colby martin on Vimeo.

The Psalm Center, at Corban University

Here is the audio from the talk I gave Friday January 13th at Corban University.

At their chapel service, I spoke about doubt. I shared some of my story, and talked about what I was learning about the power of “doubt” within the context of our expression of faith.

You can stream it here or download it for later listening.

Here’s a few excerpts:

Doubt is not something you do TO your faith, rather it is an integral expression OF your faith.

Much of Christianity gives no room for doubt. It is seen as a betrayal of God. It is feared and to be avoided at all costs.

When we engage with our doubts, when we open up the depths of our souls to the darkness that shadows us in our times of suffering, sorrow and doubt, we then find ourselves in a unique opportunity to participate in the crucifixion.

Something profound happens when we engage with the Divine Absence, when we suffer the Dark Night of the Soul, when we lean in to our doubts and let them fully develop. We find that as we begin to come out of it, after being confronted by the full trauma of doubt and despair, we discover that that which pushed us there no longer has power over us.

I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments section. Do you agree? Disagree? Why?
Have you ever had seasons of doubt? If so, how did you handle it?

In my talk, I reference my “Depression Beard.”
To see a video where I finally shaved my depression beard, click here.

If you haven’t seen it, here it is:

Since this IS my blog, and all, here are my thoughts on it (as you read this, picture me standing somewhere cool, looking in to a camera, attempting to do “spoken-word.”)

So I see that this video has been going around,
tickling peeps ears with the spoken-word sound.
Almost 7 million views of this one video,
and so to stay relevant, to YouTube I go.

Watch it and listen, is what I just did,
but honestly it left me slightly sordid.

Was Jesus REALLY anti-Religion?
Or just anti the purchase of a temple-sold pigeon…
I don’t think they’re mutually exclusive
in the same sort of way that the this dude on YouTube did.

Jesus was angered by EMPTY religion,
seeing the poor and the hurting who lived in,
the time when God’s people were called out to bless,
but they cared for their purity and said “to hell with the rest.”

I guess what I’d rather this poet had done,
was emphasis Jesus as being the one,
who said,There IS a religion in the Kingdom of Heaven,
See for yourself… James 1:27.

This video creates false dichotomies,
but since it’s done real pretty we say “yes please!”
Before you click ‘share’ and repeat this sensation,
perhaps in your status place this iteration:

“In Jesus I’ve found the way of truth, love and peace
A religion that offers a hope for all things.
In Jesus we seek no hypocrisy,
cause THAT is what drove this Teacher crazy.”

Not “religion.”

(or something like that…)

The other day I saw someone’s status on Facebook, and it read:

God will never take something away from you without the intention of replacing it with something better!

I had to read it twice before I was assured that THAT is what they truly wrote.

Now, far be it from me to judge someone else’s perspective on who God is and how God acts in this world. I’m very aware of my own quirks when it comes to God’s posture towards humankind, and how God acts (or doesn’t act) in accordance. Eyes would roll and pitchforks raise (causing heads to roll) at some of MY thoughts on this issue. So I comment on the above statement carefully, not intending to make the original author feel small or crazy.

But here’s my problem with this line of thinking.

This statement makes the following assumptions:

• That God is active in the removal of “things” from our life
• That God not only removes things by God’s own action, but that God does so with a greater purpose
• That this purpose is noble and good and will lead to the betterment of the person who had this thing removed
• That we are decent enough judges of what is “better,” so that we can know (or at least say) that “B” is better than what I had, which was “A”
• That God only removes something with a plan to replace it

While some of these assumptions may have merit, I cannot buy in to all of them, and I don’t think you should either. My fear is that this line of thinking will inevitably end in disappointment or disenfranchisement. I suppose it isn’t overly  harmful to believe that God is active enough in our lives to possibly play a part in “taking something away.” This assumption, while probably needing clarified, is decent enough. God, as the Benevolent One, who knows and loves us like a Father knows and loves their children, surely might work in our lives in such a way as to add OR remove certain things in our lives.

However, does this mean that if something is “taken away” from us (which begs the question: what does this MEAN? A material object? A job? A relationship? An addiction? A temptation? A personality trait? An emotion or feeling? What are we talking about here?), then must we assume it is because God either did it directly or influenced it somehow?  And how can we discern when it’s GOD taking something away, or when it’s a result of some other force? (Or do we embrace some sort of deterministic worldview where everything that ever happens to anybody is already determined and caused and controlled by God? *shudder… No thank you). So then, if perhaps SOMETIMES something is taken away by God, and other times not, then how do we know when we ought wait expectedly for “something better?” And is the counter-point to this line of thinking that when something is taken away by a force OTHER than God, then there ought be no expectation of it being replaced with something better? Again I ask, how do we discern?

Furthermore, let’s say that I have “thing A” in my life, and I am able to clearly and with certainty know that it is gone from my life because God took it away. And let’s say that I have enough objectivity to step back and assess that such a thing has happened (namely, that God has taken “thing A” away from me). Then I ask you this: how will I know WHEN  it has officially been replaced with “thing B?” What if “thing B” is categorically different than “thing A?” Can we adequately judge the goodness of things if they are in different categories altogether? Let me illustrate what I’m getting at…

Todd and his girlfriend Stacey just broke up. Todd, a dedicated follower of Jesus, has prayerfully discerned (and possibly told by his youth pastor) that God must have thought it was better for him to no longer be dating Stacey. God has taken her away from him. Some of his Christian friends tell him the above words of encouragement: “Todd, dude, God will never take something away without the intention of replacing it with something better! So have faith, bro!” As weeks and months go by, Todd starts to get curious about when this promise will come true. Will it be Judy from geometry? Or perhaps Hillary from Home Ec? But what if, in this scenario, God’s entire “plan” was take away Todd’s girlfriend and replace that lack of relationship with an inner sense of peace and security?  Helping Todd to move in to a state where he can know that just being a child of God is enough. That being single will allow him to focus on other (better?) things. And so after a few months, with no new girlfriend, Todd concludes that God doesn’t, in fact, want him to have a girlfriend at all. After sharing this insight with his youth group friends they say back to him, “well there you go, Todd! That’s the “something better” that God was intending to replace Stacey with!” Todd nods in agreement, and they all sing a worship song together. But when Monday comes, and Edith from English class asks Todd out, he then smiles and realizes that THIS is what God was REALLY up to the whole time. Because as everyone in 7th grade knows, Edith is way better than Stacey!

I guess I just think that we would be better off not living in the sort of simplistic formula as described above. It will inevitably lead to disappointment, frustration, and feeling like God owes us something every time a thing that we like gets “taken away.” And life surely doesn’t work that way, so we end up feeling like God has abandoned us. Or another fear I have is that we might miss out on the blessing in our life if we are focused on “thing A” being replaced by something categorically similar. What if (assuming that God has done the taking) God really does have a purpose for the taking and is planning to re-fill that gap with something that is much more beneficial to the one experiencing the loss, but the plan involves something of an entirely different nature? If we don’t broaden or deepen the way we think about such things, we could go on and on in life completely missing the blessings of God.

A final issue I take with this saying, is that if we move from our time of loss straight to an expectation of gain, then we completely miss out on truly grasping with our loss. We skip over experiencing the trauma of such a loss. We lose an opportunity to essentially participate in the crucifixion, and cry out “My God my God, why have you forsaken me?” But since I’m going to be giving a talk on Friday about this exact issue, I’ll say no more about it now. Hopefully I can get the talk recorded, and I’ll upload it here.

Perhaps, in the end, I might amend the original Facebook status as thus:

If we lose something in life that was dear to us, and we are sincerely led to believe that God was involved in the process of initiating or directing this loss, then let us choose to first engage with that loss. Experience it. Know it. Let it stare at us in the depths of our soul and let us not move on to quickly. But when we do, when we begin to move from crucifixion to a time of resurrection, then let us begin to believe that no matter what comes next, whether or not what we initially lost will ever be replaced, that we will be better because we engaged with Christ and participated in his crucifixion and are now living in his resurrection. And that, ultimately, is life.

Kinda long for a pithy FB status, though.

“Behold, a virgin shall conceive in her womb, and she shall give birth to a son. And they shall call his name Emmanuel, which means: God is with us.” -Matthew 1:23

This statement by an angel, to the frightened carpenter Joseph, is one of the standard issue Christmas verses. And lately, it won’t get out of my head. But not because of it’s presence, rather because of it’s absence.

Here’s what I mean. This Christmas season has been the hardest for me to live within the reality that “God is with us.” Instead, I find myself wrestling almost daily with believing that God is truly near, that God is here and present with me. I realize and fully admit how narcissistic that sounds, and I try to guard myself from making such individualized statements about God (i.e. it’s all about God’s presence with ‘me!’ and then I may or may not choose to acknowledge God’s presence with ‘us’). But this season my heart is going there whether I want it to or not. My mind argues, and wants to hold tight to the knowledge of the presence of God, but my heart wars against it and finds reasons to doubt. Finds reasons to argue, reasons to latch on to the parts of my life recently that have been excruciatingly hard. The other day I wrote about some of this battle as it was reflected in attending church for the first time in a while.

And what’s curious to me is that lately I have had several very powerful reasons to accept the reality of the presence of God in my life right now. And yet, my heart still resists. It’s as though I’m living the chorus of the Mumford & Sons song, “Winter Winds”

And my head told my heart
“Let love grow”
But my heart told my head
“This time no”

So what has my head been telling my heart lately?

My wife is one week away from giving birth to our 4th boy. And what a beautiful reminder of God in so many ways. The God who creates and gives life to Creation has blessed us with the ability to create 4 miniature humans of our own. And the advent of THIS baby boy comes at the same time of year that the God who emptied God’s-self became clothed in humanity. What a perfect reminder.

And yet my heart resists.

The other day I had a conversation with someone who shared with me an incredible story of how I had been used by God to show up in someone else’s life at the exact right moment. I sent this person a text (someone I’ve texted maybe 5 times before in my life) letting them know I was thinking of them and pausing to pray for them. Come to find out, they received that text at the exact moment that something extremely difficult was happening in their life. There was maybe a 5 minute window that this moment even existed, and THAT’S precisely when I felt compelled to text them. There’s more coolness to the story that I won’t share here for the sake of anonymity, but suffice it to say that it was definitely a powerful indicator of “God with us.” And I know that the person who received my text was impacted by the presence of God. And I know that I, too, ought to have been impacted in this way.

And yet my heart resists.

A month ago we threw our kids, dog and a fish in the van and left our home in Arizona. Like many in this country, we are upside down with our mortgage. And like many, we were needing to sell our home quickly. For those who have been there before, you know the stress and strain that latches on to you when you move to a different state and leave behind a home that you hope and pray will sell. Two weeks ago, on Monday, we put our home on the market. By Tuesday we had five offers. By Thursday we accepted an offer and it went to the bank for approval. I can’t say for sure whether God assisted this process for us or not, but probably at another time in my life I might have easily attributed this moment to a blessing/presence of the Divine.

And yet my heart resists.

What I’m discovering is that while my mind has been presented with numerous evidences for the reality of God’s presence in my life, my heart seems intent on rejecting such notions. My heart is still lumbering along at a frustratingly slow pace since it was crushed several months back. My heart is still, at the very best, resisting God… and at the very worst, blaming God.

During the Advent season we are invited to a time of waiting. Of anticipation and expectation. The four words oft associated with Advent are Joy, Hope, Peace and Love.

But this season I might add a fifth word: Trust.

Better yet, I might just replace the original four with Trust.

You see, perhaps God (if God is at the moment doing such things) is inviting me in to a learning season of Trust. Perhaps God sees in my life areas where Trust is lacking, and during this season I get to lean in in a whole new way.

Trust, as I’m learning, isn’t the same thing as Faith. Here’s what I mean…

The author of Hebrews wrote, “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (11:1). Or maybe you could say, faith is what you cling to when your heart has a conviction about something but you simply can’t wrap your mind around it. But Trust? Maybe trust is what you cling to when your mind has a conviction about something but your heart can’t acquiesce.

Faith for me right now isn’t necessarily the issue. I believe in the ever-presence of the Creator, the always-thereness and always-nearness of the Divine. But right now I’m struggling to trust in that which I believe in. Or, to put it more simply, I’m struggling to feel what I know. We lean in to faith to help us overcome our lack of knowing. Right now, I need to lean in to trust to help me overcome my lack of feeling. Maybe the feelings will come… maybe not. Feelings are pretty flighty like that. But as finite humans we nonetheless rely on them quite a bit.

So, for this Christmas season, I might stick with the author of Hebrews, but go backwards to the second chapter. “But we see him who for a little while was made lower than the angels, namely Jesus, crowned with glory and honor… I will put my trust in him” (2:9,13).

I may not know what that looks like. I certainly don’t know how to do it. But just being able to step back and see a glimpse of what God might be calling me to right now in my life is enough. I will lean in to that, and by doing so, lean in to God. Lean in to the Emmanuel, the God who is with us. The God who, I am led to believe, is with me.

And then, maybe then, I’ll move from the chorus of “Winter Winds” to the final verse:

And if your strife strikes at your sleep
Remember spring swaps snow for leaves
You’ll be happy and wholesome again
When the city clears and sun ascends

A couple days ago I shared a link that was going around on Facebook. It is 45 of the most powerful images from events in 2011 as gathered by buzzfeed.com (check them out, here)

This was my comment when I linked it:

20 of these 45 images depict violence or are a result of violence. This disturbs me. Violence, war, oppression, hatred, vengeance, and power disturb me. May the Prince of Peace use his divine influence in 2012.

My wife then mentioned how the majority of the other 25 picture were also violent images, but ones resulting from violent acts of nature. Only a select few (like the amazing elderly gay couple who just got married, pictured below) depicted something “beautiful” as one of the most powerful images. I suppose this all says something, doesn’t it, about our view of “power?”

Anyways, this morning I was reading about the works of Rene Girard, the brilliant French historian, literary critic and philosopher of social sciences. If you have an hour or two to kill, his work is incredible. Truly a giant in his own. His two main contributions are the mimetic theory (basically that our desire for objects is not based out of our own autonomous desire because of the object itself, but because someone else wants it), and the scapegoat mechanism (in an effort to control the violence that inevitably comes as a result of the mimetic theory, cultures/religions began sacrificing a “scapegoat” in pursuit of peace).

In one such article, I was struck by the following quote:

War no longer works to resolve conflict—indeed, wars no longer have clear beginnings, endings or aims. Moreover, as weapons have escalated, war could destroy us all.

The weapons of war are less and less distinguishable from forces of nature, echoing apocalyptic texts of the New Testament. Before the invention of apocalyptic weapons, we couldn’t see how realistic these texts were. But today we are in a situation where we can see that, and we should be extremely impressed by that.

Man is creating “more and more violence in a world that is practically without God, if you look at the way nations behave with each other and the way people behave with each other,” he said. “History, you might say, is a test for mankind. But we know very well that mankind is failing that test. In some ways, the Gospels and scriptures are predicting that failure since it ends with eschatological themes, which are literally the end of the world.”

His conclusion: “We must face our neighbors and declare unconditional peace. Even if we are provoked, challenged, we must give up violence once and for all.” (emphasis mine)

It appears my hopes are similar to Girard’s, which are similar to those of the Lord we both profess: Jesus.

Phyllis Siegel, 76, left, and Connie Kopelov, 84, both of New York, embrace after becoming the first same-sex couple to get married at the Manhattan City Clerk's office

Going to Church Again

“Where are we going, daddy?” Zeke asks, as he pulls the second sleeve of his big winter coat over his left arm.

“We are going to go to church this morning,” I reply, knowing that I haven’t given him that answer in quite some time.

“Church?” He responds skeptically. “Why are we going to church? Did you get a new job?”

So went the brief conversation with Zeke, my seven year old, yesterday as my wife and I gathered up the kids while simultaneously gathering up the courage to attend church for the first time in over 2 months.

There’s a strange sort of liberation-meets-despair in not having a home church. I’ve known plenty of people in my life who have been between churches, but that’s never been a chapter in the story of my life. As a youth I went where my mom went. In college I interned at a church. Upon graduating, I got a full-time Associate Worship Pastor job and worked there for two years. Then I moved to Arizona and worked at The Grove for the last five. But now…? Nothing. Nada. Zero church activity in Kate and mine’s life for the past 9 Sundays

On one shoulder I hear a small voice say, “now that you don’t WORK at a church, you can just WORSHIP at a church… any church you like! Just go for it!”

Her name is Liberation.

But you can call her Libby.

On the other shoulder I hear another voice: “You know that thing you’ve done every Sunday for the past 544 Sundays? That thing that’s helped define you and your life? The thing that keeps you centered and grounded, renewed and fresh? That thing that all your close friends do each week, and where you feel loved and accepted and a part of something? Yeah, well, that thing is gone.”

His name is Despair.

Or Dez, if you prefer.

Overdramatic? Perhaps. But it’s where I’m at right now, so deal with it.

Dez has been winning most every battle lately. I occasionally let Libby speak her piece, but I just can’t buy yet what she’s selling.

But yesterday Libby (supported by Katie) finally tasted victory.

We went to St Paul’s Episcopal Church here in Salem, OR, and having attended an Anglican church in Arizona a while back we had a general idea of what to expect. It was fun for me (as it usually is) to visit a church, because I get to see for fresh eyes what it’s really like coming to a church for the first time. Having worked full-time in the church for the past seven years I can’t tell you the number of meetings we’ve had wherein we discuss what we want our “first impression” to be for any visitors. We talk about what sort of experience they might have, or how they might interpret this or that. Most of that is guess work, since we’ve all been AT that church for years.

But when you visit, you get to really experience what it’s like to have a “first impression.”

We were warmly greeted by multiple people and quickly assisted in finding the nursery. There wasn’t (or so we thought) a kid’s program that day, so Zeke and Tai sat with us throughout the whole service. It was fun to see the slight look of surprise on people’s faces when they saw us and we confirmed that we were “new.” Either they don’t get many visitors or perhaps just not many young married couples with kids as visitors.

The sanctuary was stunning. My world for so long has been dominated by the Evangelical, post/modern church scene, where “theater” is the new “cathedral,” and giant screens are the new hymnals, that I forgot what sort of care and intentionality and beauty went in to constructing churches of old. I don’t know how long this church has been here, but it’s architecture is both dated and timeless, standing in the current future while echoing the dreams and designs from the past. With tall, arching wooden ceilings that reminded me of what Noah’s ark might look like if turned upside down. Beautiful stained glass windows all down either side, framed by wooden carvings depicting Biblical narratives. Two long rows of pews leading up to the front of the church with an elevated altar where eventually would sit the Eucharist elements. On the floor, in front of the altar, was a place for a band, a children’s choir, and a handbell choir. Suspended high above the Eucharist table was a beautiful golden cross. Everything in the room seemed insistent that you, as the participating worshiper, knew full well that Christ was going to be the Center of whatever occurs in that space. Including the fact that the preaching “pulpit” was off to the side. (*sidenote: for anyone who’s ever attended a worship gathering I’ve led, you may recall that I never stand in the center of the stage. I am always off to the side. This is intentional, for under no circumstance should our worship gatherings be confused and think that I should be the center of attention. So I love that the Episcopal church also forces action away from the center, where the Eucharist table resides and the cross hovers.)

The worship service itself was a beautiful liturgical dance. Moving from music to scripture to prayers to a sermon to more music and more prayers and more scripture readings. And everything worked it’s way towards Communion, for that is the pinnacle for which all previous expressions of worship lent themselves toward. (My fellow Catholic brothers and sisters shout a resounding “Well, duh!”)

I loved it. I loved that a woman (Rev. Heather Wenrick, Associate Rector) led much of the service, including giving a very fantastic sermon. A young woman, at that! (My wife loved this even more than I, and I’m sure she’ll blog about it soon!) The music (while I didn’t know any of it) was well done, even if not to my stylistic likings, but it all moved and flowed and had a purpose. And the words made me pause, think, reflect. I loved that my kids were welcome (in the pews the church had cards that welcomed parents of young kids, invited them to not stress out if their kids made noise, and invited non-parents to ALSO not stress out of the kids next to them made noise. How cool is that!?). I loved that the priest, when we went forward for communion, took time to ask us if the kids were receiving communion or a blessing. When we said “a blessing” he genuinely took the time to pray over both Zeke and Tai (we first experience this at Living Faith Anglican back in Arizona, where our dear friend Father Bob Fabey resided over worship. That was our first taste of Anglicanism/Episcopalianism, and it was wonderful. Thanks Bob!)

So, after a two month separation of church and self, it was good to be with the Lord’s people again on Sunday. And it was very good to be a part of St Paul’s. I’m sure we’ll be back.

Libby, thanks for not giving up on me. And Dez, thanks for taking the morning off. I’m sure you’ll be back, but the time apart was nice.

If you’re a life-time member of modern evangelical church world, I would strongly encourage you to visit a high-church some Sunday. Be it Anglican, Episcopal, or Catholic. Don’t worry, Jesus won’t mind. In fact, you’ll probably meet him there, in ways you’d never imagine.

The findings (which can be more explored in David Kinnaman’s newest, “You Lost Me“) reveal that most of the reasons why young people are leaving the church can be summed up in to 6 main concepts:

1) Churches seem overprotective
2) Their experience of Christianity is shallow
3) Churches come across as antagonistic to science
4) Church experiences related to sexuality are often simplistic and judgmental
5) They wrestle with the exclusive nature of Christianity
6) The church feels unfriendly to those who doubt

Now, clearly I’m not one of the statistics of “those who left the church.” However, I AM one of those who have found the tension in all six of these areas, particularly numbers 3-6.

There are many of us who are exploring new ways to approach these issues. Or, perhaps it’s more accurate to say, we are uncovering ways that are old (hearken back to Jesus and the Biblical Writers) but that have been lost and so now are seeming new, or fresh. And many communities and churches are starting to address these issues in ways that resonate with people (most of all, the disenfranchised youth referred to in this study).

I think it’s high time we start listening to the voices of the next generation, for in them I sense a call to return to lost values and misplaced beliefs.

I, for one, am hopeful.
Hopeful that Christian women and men are rising up to the challenges of addressing these (and other) issues that are slowly emptying our churches.