Roots: A Communal Journal

Here I am again. It's Sunday afternoon and I'm frustrated, angry, helpless, and lonely all at once. Like when the high school youth group gets a turn leading the musical worship: I'm trying to sing along but everything is just...off. Sometimes I wish I hated my church. It has been a painful journey but I am now at peace with sloughing off the "evangelical Christian" label. I no longer feel the discordant crush of contradictory feelings and beliefs that holding onto White American Evangelicalism forced me into. I feel a freedom to question everything and find a faith that is more beautiful, inclusive, and academically rigorous. I feel thinly restrained fury when I look at what the American church has become now that I am choosing to be an outsider. Being able to hate (or at least feel repelled by) the evangelical church has made it easy to discard. But I don't hate my church. My church is full of people who love fiercely. My church has urged vaccination and fol...

I have been disappointed to see so much fear mongering and hand wringing by Christians over the somewhat recent California rules , which restricts, among other things, singing and chanting in enclosed spaces, as well as larger indoor gatherings. The concern seems to be this: Christians have an scriptural obligation to gather together in the same physical space, and to sing in sufficiently large groups, even when they know that doing so poses significant risks to their communities and will likely extend the ongoing pandemic through further outbreaks. That's just stunning to me. Absolutely stunning. Certainly, the Bible teaches that we owe God our worship, and that worship often takes the form of singing. We're also not supposed to "forsake the assembly"  (Hebrews 10:25), and some have argued that refusing to meet in person is to do just that. But when we love our neighbors, when we walk the extra mile, when we become the servant of all, when we l...

* These songs echo throughout our home all year, but especially during this season. -- Josh Garrels |  O Day of Peace  &  Come to Him O day of peace that dimly shines through all our hopes, and prayers, and dreams Guide us to justice, truth, and love Delivered from our selfish schemes May the swords of hate fall from our hands Our hearts from envy find release Till by God's grace our warring world shall see Christ's promised reign of peace Then shall the wolf dwell with the lamb Nor shall the fierce devour the small As beats and cattle calmly graze a little child Shall lead them all Then enemies shall learn to love All creatures find their true according The hope of peace shall be fulfilled For all the earth shall know the Lord Come to Him with all of your heart Come and lay your burdens down For peace he came to give and joy shall be the crown And joy shall be the crown

Photo by  Trevor Brown  on  Unsplash I am jet-lagged, but content. After an almost-five hour flight involving too much ginger ale and not enough water, I’m back where I grew up, in the Pacific Northwest, surrounded by trees and cars and mountains. There is something spiritually healthy about sleep-deprivation, I think. Biologically, our inhibitions are lowered and it’s harder for us to make thoughtful, conscious decisions — similar to the effects of drinking alcohol. In fact, one study showed that after 17 to 19 hours without sleep, participants’ [response speeds and accuracy] performance was equivalent or worse than that of a blood alcohol concentration (BAC) level of 0.05 percent. 1 Sleep deprivation is a natural occurrence that strips away our competence and our ability to control our emotions (among many other things). It reminds me that I can only do so much, that my body is a physical, spiritual thing with many needs and so few resources to meet them. It re...

Today was like many other Sundays, except I woke up later than usual and was late for church. When I realized this, I immediately felt a sinking feeling in my gut. By the time I would get to church, I knew I would miss the worship set — my favorite part of Sunday service. I knew I might also miss our church’s prayer time, where we have the opportunity to publicly confess, pray, and praise together.  I lay in bed for awhile, considering whether to sneak in late and slide into a back pew or stay home, make eggs, and listen to a sermon online. Then I realized we would be continuing in our series on Ephesians 5, and the sinking feeling returned. I stayed up too late last night, and didn’t have the energy to parse through a passage that has sparked so much personal and communal controversy in my life. But I got up anyway, because I missed my people. I’m sure I will write another post discussing Ephesians 5, but for now, I celebrate my people. My church people are crazy....