My mother was going to do her mother’s hair for the final time. I volunteered to be there to support her. What happened in that mortuary was truly cathartic.Read More
I lived with a dying mom in my most formative years, and afterward, raging fear of the death I had seen controlled my mind. But the only thing worse than death is being alive but not really living, and God never fails to whisper me back.Read More
From the personal moments that reopen old wounds to collective experience of the pain of strangers, we all confront the paradoxes of tragedy. And while I can’t promise you it will get better, I can promise to navigate these paradoxes together.Read More
This, now, is the rage and the darkness— this, here in the river. And we are all of us going deeper. One by one, we will offer ourselves, we will stand in the river, we will brave the current…
Because we belong to love.
As America struggled for the first time toward the stars, a newly elected president spoke to the world in gracious words and generous aspirations. Could we be that America again?Read More
Is it madness to march in the streets one year later, when it feels like so little has changed? The human soul cannot live in a constant state of grim battle.
But we march to know we’re not alone.Read More
The moment I knew I couldn’t be both a psychologist and a Christian, I was handing a heroin-dealing child molester a box of tissues.
Hamartia was the word I was missing.Read More
The church, you see, had been both a home to us and a place we'd been exiled from. Still, we felt this pull, an agony really, to keep her alive. If the doors kept swinging shut on us, we'd be the damn doorkeepers ourselves. Maybe it was a bit haughty of us, definitely a little audacious, and most assuredly dangerous. What if we too became irresponsible doorkeepers? What if in our eagerness to become a place of healing for the wounded, we only inflicted more wounds?Read More
I feel simple. I feel alive. Each moment I look, I see the shifting of the emptiness. I can’t stop staring at it now. Where I once saw darkness, I now see colors. Deep reds and purples. Glistening flesh constantly moving. It folds over itself many times. It shifts. It writhes. It contracts and expands.Read More
But gradually, it dawned on me: everyone speaking there looked just like me. Straight white men. I had a platform— not because of insights, or gifts, or passion— but because I fit the profile. And what about those who didn't? Every time I spoke, I realized, others were paying a cost in the sacrifice of their own powerful insights, gifts, and passions. We were all being impoverished by the loss.Read More
Today, the Sunday before Good Friday, the last Sunday of Lent. The last look inward before all is lost and all is gained even more. Today, in this deep search inward, we dedicated our children. In the midst of this incredible community of misfits we stood with our family and promised to raise our children in love and grace. None of this is easy. None of this is what I expected. All of this is what I needed.Read More
So I put myself back together. Piece by piece, I recovered parts of myself that I had shunned from the very beginning of my self-awareness. Yes, I am queer. And that's okay. Yes, I do want kids someday. And that's okay, too. No, I cannot do it all. And that is just fine. No, I do not have all the answers. And I shouldn't have to. Slowly, I redefined myself in my own image, rather than those of the people around me. I became me.Read More
I grew up with a script and with a stutter. It’s no wonder I started writing in journals as young as six or seven. My voice was dying to get out of me. Very few places, especially for children, encourage finding your own voice. A unique voice is the first thing many religions try to take away - specifically the voices of women, children, minorities, the poor, the non-straight/cis binary, the disabled.Read More
Fear is our way, but Jesus said, "I am the way," and Jesus was love: risky, bold, unabashed, fearless, lionhearted, audacious, intrepid love.Read More
Are we responsible for saving those people? Is that what it means to be your brother's keeper? Shouldn't we only fight for the ones they're disenfranchising? Shouldn't that thinking be contested and defeated? Is love REALLY going to change their hearts, change the world? Can a dialogue really happen with someone who disrespects others so deeply?Read More
I'm tired of trying to fit into the groups who call themselves followers of this Jesus guy. I've tried to get rid of Jesus, but he is always there in my experience. My reality is haunted by his goodness and mercy.Read More
Who is responsible, after all, for setting this planet on fire? Me. And you. Individuals. One at a time. One quiet voice, one tiny heart, one pair of hands. One broken, burdened, impassioned individual after another, becoming in the world all that she was meant to be. A voice. A story. Lived out loud. Rising up. One dream. One vision. One bleeding heart. The revolution has always only ever been small and within. Mustard seeds.Read More
On December 22, 2016 Sojourn Grace Collective met at St. Luke's Cathedral in North Park with lots of children (of course) and incredible music (of course) and loads of coffee (of course) to celebrate Christmas together.Read More
On our 2nd Anniversary we set up a camera, inflated some balloons, put out some sharpies, and asked our people to reflect on why they attend Sojourn Grace.
Their responses, like the disciples, were, "where else can we go?"Read More
Millennials are leaving the local church in favor of other expressions of faith-community. However, what happens after that? Do those alternative expressions having lasting power, or will the movements eventually become an institution?Read More