My Favorite Movies of the Year

Yes, it is that time! As everyone else is dolling out their top ten lists of albums, books, films, culinary masterpieces, undiscovered gems of the region, etc., I now throw my hat into the ring with my nine favorite movies of the year. The number nine is arbitrary (though the listed order is not) - these are simply the films from this past year that I think are absolutely worth your attention. Even I can't see every movie ever made (I try my best!), and so there are some movies that I completely missed and some movies that were decent but I couldn't quite bring myself to add with the following. Here's hoping for a better year for film in 2010!

1. Herb and Dorothy

This documentary was a source of sweet inspiration to me. Its heroes are a postal worker and a librarian who managed to build one of the most important collections of contemporary art in history with their very modest means. It is a reminder that a passion for art can be cultivated by anyone, unlimited by status or economic background.

2. That Evening Sun

An elderly man who has had enough of the nursing home life returns to his house in rural Tennessee, only to discover that it is now occupied by a family determined to make it their own. One might guess what will happen: a battle of wits until compassion smoothes over and brings the two parties together in a magical human moment. Not in this tale. It is dark and tense, demonstrating the conflict that occurs when the pursuit of ones deepest aspirations clashes with that of another person, and the emotional destruction that can occur because of the inability to let go of what is already gone.

3. A Serious Man

"The Uncertainty Principle. It proves that we can't ever really know... what's going on. So it shouldn't bother you. Not being able to figure anything out. Although you will be responsible for this on the midterm." So speaks the hero of the new Coen Brothers' film, Professor Larry Gopnik, a physics professor in the midwest who eats his own words as he indeed tries to figure it all out as blow after ridiculous blow impales his life. Not even we of the religious bent are exempt from the confusion of uncertainty, as demonstrated by Larry's religious traditions as they fail, if not make it harder, to spell things out.

4. Everlasting Moments

This was one of my early favorites of the year, and is a lovely story, set in early 19th century Sweden, of a mother who escapes from the harshness of her life into the creative world of photography. The images you discover with her are beautiful, and the film provides an interesting history of photography in its early days. What I found most touching, however, was the very human conflict the mother experiences in deciding whether to choose her individual freedom or stay with her family despite the abuse and tragedy that occurs.

5. Avatar

I assume that, unless you live in a hole, you've heard about this film. Believe the hype - it's one of the best films of the year for its stunning beauty, great story-telling, and some more than subtle comments on the way we view our natural resources and those that may seem "different."

6. Bright Star

"Bright Star" was a big surprise for me, as my reaction to it was probably the most personal of any of the other films described here. The film is based on the letters written between poet John Keats and his love Fanny Brawne before he died at the young age of 25. Not my usual fare, I was drawn to it for two reasons, the first being its interesting  look at the psychology of attachment and the inability these two people have to be separated from each other without severe emotional reactions. The more personal reason I was drawn to this film is my own inability to believe in this kind of love. I am a rational person that would tend to dismiss a relationship like the one in this story as overly emotional, immature and unrealistic. But rather than being turned off by this film, I found it to be a good slap in the face - that maybe I am the one refusing to be realistic and should give more credit to the power of love. As Keast says in the film, "There is a holiness to the heart's affections."

7. Fantastic Mr. Fox

I was disappointed by director Wes Anderson's last film, "The Darjeeling Limited," and thus was dearly hoping to have him back in full stride for this animated adventure. Sure enough, this film brought back the witty humor, visual excellence and brilliant characters that made me fall in love with his work years ago.

8. Adventureland

Recent college grad James Brennan enters the real world, which obviously entails having all of his plans fall apart and eventually settling for a crappy job at the local amusement park. But there he meets the beautiful Em and a host of quirky characters that make for the best summer of his life. It's sweet and fun, but is also surprisingly poignant in its intimate portrayal of young love. It's been said that the film thrives on capturing "ordinary moments," and it is that realism that takes it above the normal "quirky-comedy" fare.

9. The Windmill Movie

Filmmaker Richard Rogers's greatest challenge was trying to make a documentary about his own life. He died of cancer before he was able to finish t - over twenty years after starting the project. Richard's partner asked one of his students and long-time friends to help her dig through the boxes upon boxes of footage he left behind, trying to piece together the story Richard could never tell. The resulting film shares a landscape of sumptuous images he captured during his life, but the story that is told is really about his insecurity and the tormenting question of whether or not his life's work had any real meaning or value - that most human of internal conflicts.

It Takes a City to Save a Farm

I wanted to share this truly inspiring story with you all. If only we all felt the same communal responsibility and pure love towards those that provide us with our food...

It takes a city to save a farm: How the Bay Area food and farming community helped Soul Food Farm recover from a devastating fire

Milestones

Many of you know that I work at a non-profit in Santa Ana that provides dance, academic and family programs to low-income youth, in order to bring hope and opportunity to them by teaching self-esteem, self-discipline and a sense of accomplishment. In essence, it is a place that believes in the art of being there for each other, and where we hope these youth can foster their dreams. 

I am very proud to announce the new name of this great organization: The Wooden Floor. This video explains how we arrived at this new name, and why I think it perfectly represents our focus as an organization.

The Wooden Floor, with the added tagline "From Here You Can Step Anywhere," was chosen as a metaphor for the foundation the organization provides to thousands of young people. It honors their connection to the dance floor where through daily practice they learn self-awareness, confidence and discipline. 

Our name is all that is changing. Our mission remains the same, and the design of our new name was to be more relevant and solve misconceptions put forth by the previous name (i.e. we're not a ballet academy, and we do not exist under the umbrella of St. Joseph Health System). 

I'm really excited for the next stage in the life of The Wooden Floor, and am so blessed to be a part of it. Many of you know that I have been insanely busy preparing for this change, but it is hard work that I am happy to do. I really do believe that God is blessing this place. It is not a Christian non-profit by any means, but I do believe that we desire that our students experience emotional and spiritual growth as they go through our programs. Honest creativity and the offering of a safe, compassionate family are at the heart of God, and that is why I love working at The Wooden Floor, no matter how crazy busy I may be. :)

Numbers, Numbers, Who Wants Some Numbers?

In celebration of World Food Day (which was last Friday), Roger Doiron served up some interesting figures about the way we eat in the U.S. and around the world. 

Some sticking points for me:

• 90%: percentage of fruit/vegetable varieties lost in the U.S. in the last 100 years
• 3500: number of vegetable varieties owned by Monsanto
• 76 million: number of people that who fall ill each year due to food poisioning
• 50 gallons: volume of sugared beverages consumed per person in the U.S. each year
• $15 billion: annual estimated revenue of a penny-per-ounce tax on soda 
• 72 million: number of American adults considered obese
• 33%: percentage of U.S. children likely to develop obesity or Type 2 diabetes
• 10-15: average number of years their lives will be shortened as a result

Read on - some really sobering stuff.

Ignorance is Bliss?

It’s taken me a long time to come around to caring about climate change. I have never been a scientific-minded person, and it takes about ten seconds for me to get lost in a technical discussion about global warming. It has not helped that every argument I read presents a different, rather subjective opinion on climate change. These arguments range from the belief that if we do nothing, the earth will disintegrate in a matter of decades, to those that claim that global warming is a complete farce. By the end of the day, any desire I might have had to engage in the discussion has vanished from my frustrated and confused mind.

Skeptics continue to question if any good can really come from climate change legislation. I myself am a person that needs to receive rational, detailed evidence before I will believe that an idea is worth pursuing. But in this debate, it’s hard to separate fact from fear.

I found this article from Jason Scorse, the Chair of the International Environmental Policy Program at the Monterey Institute, to be a nice push to look at the glass half full when it comes to the outcomes of reducing climate change, at both personal and legislative levels. His bottom line: “So what if global warming is a hoax? There are clear and inarguable reasons that we should be doing everything in our power to reduce our use of fossil fuels and become leaders in the green energy revolution. For a bonus we might also help to reduce climate change and ensure a reasonably hospitable planet for generations to come.”

If you still remain unconvinced that getting involved in this discussion is worth your time, remember this ultimate truth: it is our moral imperative as Christians to care about climate change. Why? Because climate change impacts the way people are able to live and provide for their families. The injustice of our current situation is that those that have contributed least to global warming are those in most danger of being affected by it. Vital resources will diminish, water scarcity will become an even greater problem, and the economic effects will hinder growth in developing countries. Here’s an excellent report on the correlation of poverty and climate change.

Daysix.org is an organization that is trying to keep these issues at the heart of the climate change debate as we near the December global climate talks in Copenhagen. For those of you that have a more visual bent, they’ve put together a great video that acts as the rally cry for climate change in the faith community.

The question that always remains for me in any issue is this: what are practical steps we can take to make a difference? Well, this is where we need to help each other; get discussions going and throw ideas out there. I think that a great place to start is taking a look at the food we eat, considering the huge role that it plays in our daily lives and relationships. Have you considered where your food comes from, if the farmers that produce it are treated justly (if, in fact, it actually comes from a good, old-fashioned farm), and how accessible healthy food is to the impoverished around the world? Other issues I’d like to tackle are the amount of trash we produce, cutting down the pollution we create with the exorbitant amount of driving we Southern Californians do, and creating access for our low-income communities to environmental education, good food, and the equal opportunity to benefit from new climate change legislation. The list goes on and on and on, but rather than letting that become a hindrance, let’s keep the conversation going and try to tackle these things one at a time as a community. Ideas anyone?

For Your Viewing Pleasure

Two wonderful new films have recently opened and should be trickling down from LA soon, so have them on your radar!

First on the bill is "A Serious Man," the new film from the Coen Brothers ("No Country For Old Men," "The Big Lebowski," and the list goes on and on...). It is a complex, dark and hilarious story of a midwestern physics professor trying to figure out the meaning of life as fate brings one blow after another. The characters are rich, and the performances are wonderful. This isn't exactly a film to cheer the spirits, but it entertainingly demonstrates that it is sometimes impossible and unnecessary to take life's awkward turns seriously.

Read more about it here. Watch the trailer here. 

Second on the must-see list is "An Education," the story of Jenny (played by Carey Mulligan, who has constantly been compared to Audrey Hepburn) who is on a one-way street to a proper Oxford education, much to the satisfaction of her parents and teachers. That is, until she meets a charming, much older man (played by the wonderful Peter Sarsgaard)  sweeps her off her feet and carries her into a whole new world of glamour and spontaneity. But Jenny must decide what will be of true value in her life as she discovers the darker sides of the pursuit of carefree happiness. 

Read more about it here. Watch the trailer here. Hope you enjoy them both!

A Sweeter Halloween

Halloween is my favorite holiday of the year. Perhaps it’s because I’m making up for lost time since my family did not start celebrating the holiday until after I was 10 (my parents weren’t the biggest fans of ghosts, witches and the intensive pumpkin-carving process), or perhaps it’s because… well, frankly, it’s awesome! I love the cooler weather, the pretty leaves and the first rain showers of fall (oh wait… I live in Southern California now), as well as the fabulously creepy music, watching “Nightmare Before Christmas” a dozen times, eating pounds of sugar and trying to out-do everyone else in the creative costume category.

While October ushers in the Halloween season, it is also Fair Trade Month. TransFair USA is holding a month-long campaign to spread awareness of fair trade consumer options to support small farmers in the developing world.

How perfect that these two events should coincide, because Global Exchange is once again hosting its Reverse Trick-or-Treating program.

According to the Africa Faith and Justice Network, 284,000 children work in abusive labor conditions in West Africa’s cocoa fields, and many cocoa farmers cannot meet their basic needs because companies pay such low wages. An astounding 70% of the chocolate you find in stores comes from these West African fields – that chocolate doesn’t seem so sweet now, does it?

The Reverse Trick-or-Treating program works to address this injustice by allowing kids to give fair trade chocolate back to adults while trick-or-treating on Halloween. Attached to the chocolate is a card with more information about the issues of the cocoa industry and the solutions Fair Trade offers. You can order a free kit from Global Exchange here. If you, like me, will not be trick-or-treating on Halloween, you can also order fair trade chocolate and flyers on Fair Trade cocoa to hand out.

This is a great way to promote justice in the cocoa industry and work to end poverty in these West African communities. Happy Halloween, everyone!

Put Down the Fork and Pick Up Your Feet - Part 1

I continue to reflect on the food system issues presented in “Food Inc,” and the fight for food that is both healthy and affordable. It is unfortunate that these two ideals are often placed at opposite ends of the spectrum for our low-income neighbors, and it’s become an even greater issue in our worsening economy. More than ever, it’s time for the church to stand up for these brothers and sisters and fight for food justice.

But an article I recently read by Tom Philpott convicted me about the means to winning that fight. The battle cry for many trying to raise awareness about access to healthy, natural food has been to “vote with our forks” or “vote with our shopping carts.” For me, it was comforting to feel like shopping at the farmer’s market and buying organic produce at Sprouts was making a difference in the fight for a better food system. However, Philpott points out that this cannot be our only strategy if we want to actually work towards a new food paradigm.

He writes, “We can’t simply consume our way to a just national dinner table. To try to do so risks creating two food systems - an artisanal one for people with the resources to care about what’s one on their plates and a low-quality, industrial one for everybody else.

“’Vote with your fork’ neglects the vast role of government and corporate power, decades in the making, in setting up the current system. To really challenge the slop being served by Big Food, we’ll have to vote with our feet as well. We’ll have to take seriously what Wendell Berry has called the ‘agrarian responsibility’ borne by all eaters. That means community - and municipal - level organizing.”

Okay - so what do we do? Grocery shopping is one thing; legislative action is another. Serving a meal to the homeless is a wonderful one-time project, but advocating on their behalf is our lifelong calling. But though it seems daunting, I think we’re up for the challenge, one step at a time.

Read on in Philpott’s article and you will find several suggestions to start picking up your feet and moving towards long-term, deep change in our food system at both local and national levels. Let me share a few ways I’ve discovered to plug in locally:

Fullerton Farmer’s Market. You have two options to buy some great food and enjoy the environment of Fullerton in its hustle and bustle. The Certified Farmer’s Market takes place year-round on Wednesday mornings from 8 a.m. - 2 p.m. in Independence Park of Valencia Drive. From April to the end of October, the Fullerton Market also meets in the plaza across from Epic every Thursday from 4 - 8 p.m.

Hunger Action Los Angeles. Philpott encourages us to participate in a local food council. Orange County does not currently have an official food council, but Hunger Action LA acts as an advocacy organization for food policy issues throughout Southern California. Frequent their website for weekly updates and project opportunities, as well as information for attending their monthly council meetings.  http://www.hungeractionla.org/#

California Food Policy Advocates. For more information about food policy actions on the state level, get updated news and resources from CFPA. http://www.cfpa.net/

Center for Food and Justice. Occidental College’s Urban & Environmental Policy Institute promotes a variety of projects and programs working to promote healthy eating and equal access to health education for communities throughout LA and Southern California. http://departments.oxy.edu/uepi/cfj/index.htm

Now it’s your turn! Do some research, and find a program you click with. It’s a reality that we are all busy, so taking on more volunteer work may be more than you can currently handle. You can still sign up to receive news about current food policy issues through any of these websites or the several Philpott recommends. These are just the first steps, but they are important to better understanding how we can directly make an impact for health and food justice in our community.

Review: Food Inc.

Anyone that goes to Epic for even a short period of time will find out pretty quickly that we are quite the "foodie" conglomerate. Some of our most intimate interactions happen over lunch, house church potlucks, or a weekend dinner. We all enjoy a good meal, but more often than not don't really think about its origin, nor do we often prefer to.

Looking into the faults of our food system can seem like opening up a bottomless can of worms that is ultimately hopeless. Just about everything is wrong with it, so why even bother trying to fix it? Robert Kenner's documentary Food Inc. presents a wealth of starting points without overwhelming its audience with the multiple problems we can face when we walk into a grocery store or restaurant just trying to find a decent, affordable meal.

While I could attempt to rehash the film, I'd like to share a review written by one of my long-time journalism icons, Mary F. Pols, who can identify with those folks that may be a little sick and tired of hearing that doom is lurking around the corner if they eat a hamburger: Find Review Here.

I promise I am not pushing you all to go see this film just because I am "one of those vegetarians." It's really important to evaluate how our food choices affect the environment, our health, and the access our impoverished neighbors have to healthy choices. You shouldn't have to be middle class to be able to buy organic or get decent health education. One of the most heartbreaking scenes in the film was the story of a low-income immigrant family that faces the harsh reality that a fast-food hamburger is cheaper than a couple of apples. Guys, we need to take better care of each other, especially with something as simple as food. This movie is an easy place to start doing some research and learning how we can vote with the contents of our shopping carts for a more transparent food system that provides greater, healthier resources to Americans of every ethnicity, age and socioeconomic level.

- And if you want to watch a film that hits this point home right in our Los Angeles backyard, check out the documentary "The Garden." Just ask me if you want to borrow it sometime. :)

The Sound of Music

This weekend I had the pleasure of attending not one but two concerts with some of Epic’s fellow music aficionados. Upon retrospect, I would probably never recommend doing this, as it drives your energy level into seemingly irreversible low zones (but when two of your favorite bands are playing the same weekend, what is one to do?). However, this auditory overload allowed me to remember why it is that I love the musical experience so much.

I use the word “experience” because it goes far beyond just listening. Music is a deeply spiritual art for me; random combinations of sounds can make me feel close to God. Most people lean one of two ways in relation to how they enjoy music: listening for good lyrics or listening for good sound. I am definitely the latter, and can honestly listen to an album a dozen times without ever really paying attention to the lyrics. This is not to diminish the power of a well-written song; it’s just how I’m wired.

While they may seem confusing or even unnecessary to some, there can be such freedom in experiencing abstract, diverse sounds. Music takes me many directions either in memory, my current doings, or dreams of places I have never been. They can mean any million things to any one person; a song can make someone burst into tears while making someone else want to jump up and down in joy. Everyone has their own musical experience and their own musical tastes - no judging here! :) 

Most of the time, good music makes me want to move. When I was a kid and my mom played piano in our living room, my brother and I would run and jump and dance all around the room. When I learned how to drive, I discovered the joy of just travelling nowhere in particular, with a favorite CD turned up as loud as I wanted, until I’d gotten out whatever restless bug was in my system (I still love doing this now). It’s no secret that I have a passion for dance. It brings to life everything that I love both physically and emotionally, providing a rich spiritual experience for me. It's almost impossible for me to sit still when a rhythm really gets going. I may not understand what a series of sounds means, and certainly can’t explain that meaning in words, but I can communicate them through movement.

I think it is important for everyone to have some cathartic, creative experience they can use to communicate the incommunicable. For me, this is dance; for others, it may be painting, construction, a sport, or music itself. I cannot wait to experience community in heaven because I think our ability to create will only be opened up a thousand-fold. The better we understand who we are and what we love, the better we can express ourselves and encourage others to foster their own means of expression.

I love seeing creativity blossom at Epic, and I honestly wish we saw more of it. I totally understand the fear to share one’s own art; I am one of the worst with this. It’s easier to let things stay in your head than put them out there for someone to judge or re-define. But for me, keeping my creative output bottled up for too long makes me feel isolated and unfulfilled. I feel like no one really knows the true me, that there is no one that would be able to hear what I actually think a song means or read one of my essays without thinking I’m weird or incompetent or untalented. But the point of art is not to be perfect or the best; it’s to share our deepest experiences honestly, in love. I hope that we can learn to feel safe in this community to express what may be difficult but necessary.

As for me, I hope to have the time someday to bring dance to Epic, especially for our kids. I get such a kick out of seeing kids move to their own rhythm and make up all kinds of random stuff, just as I got to do to my mom’s piano at home. But for now I just want to get better at sharing my experiences with art and how I find God’s beauty in them, and I would love to hear about those of others.

St. Joseph Ballet's 2009 Annual Concert

From Here...

Saint Joseph Ballet's 2009 Annual Concert

Irvine Barclay Theatre, May 28-31

Internationally celebrated choreographers Jeff Slayton and Nami Yamamoto present World Premiere works and the legendary Mark Haim returns to reprise his acclaimed piece What Is Too Strong For Breaking. Show times are 8pm Thursday through Saturday, with a 2:30pm matinee added on Saturday and Sunday.

Buy tickets here! http://www.thebarclay.org/custom/events/event10.asp?eventID=1195

For more information about Saint Joseph Ballet, click here to learn about the fantastic work it is doing to prepare at-risk youth to face the obstacles of life, embracing the hope and opportunity modeled by the intensive art-making process of dance.

Review: The Soloist

Even before the hyperemotional “August Rush” graced theaters, my threshold for sentimental musician films had been extremely low. Seeing the trailer for “The Soloist” did not really help my preconceptions of the film with its enthusiastic swells of Beethoven, a teary-eyed Jamie Foxx obviously pretending to play the cello, and twirling pigeons flying into a big blue sky. However, this cynic was pleasantly surprised, as the film never travels too far into the cheap sentimentality zone and attempts to shed an honest light on the story of an artist who has been devastated by mental illness.

It’s based on the story of Steve Lopez (Robert Downey, Jr.), a columnist for the Los Angeles Times who meets a homeless schizophrenic named Nathaniel Anthony Ayers (Jamie Foxx), who just so happens to be a former Julliard student. His mental illness has taken everything away from him except for his love of music, and Ayers now haunts the tunnels and street corners of LA struggling to express this love on a two-string violin. The visible talent of this man sparks curiosity in Steve, and what starts out as another good idea for a column unintentionally ends becomes a crusade to bring justice to Nathaniel’s broken life.

The film explores how our devotion to the things we love can be inhibited by the struggles of life and, in turn, how that devotion can inhibit our ability to recognize and deal with those struggles. Nathaniel lives music, but his illness stops him throughout his life from pursuing what he loves most. As a child, he experiences a hazy, delicate world interrupted by hallucinations; after entering Julliard, these hallucinations become extreme and terrifying, forcing him out of school and into a life of desperation he can never escape.

Nathaniel lands in Skid Row, surrounded by those like him that live each day hanging by a thread. There are an estimated 90,000 homeless living in Los Angeles, and their existence is anything but sugar-coated in the film. Skid Row looks like hell on earth, and as Steve follows his new friend into his backyard, his face reveals the fear, discomfort and astonishment that arises when one realizes that right next door are those living in constant pain. While some of these scenes are soured by their political tone, the honest faces on the screen make a compelling case for activism within our own community.

Steve lives with a different kind of hopelessness in the midst of a dying newspaper industry. His cool, cynical demeanor only acts as a cover for a man that really needs to rediscover passion for what he does, rather than continuing to live in the routine of a job that’s pretty thankless. While Nathaniel provides a source for a much needed story, he also demonstrates a joy that creates an itch in Steve he cannot ignore. The visual indulgences of the film show the beauty to be found alongside the terror of Nathaniel’s mind, including a “Fantasia”-esque clip that represents his interpretations of music in fantastic bursts of color.

However, the reality of Nathaniel’s situation grounds their relationship. Compassion can often be a one-way street, and Steve feels the weight of helping a friend that cannot help himself. He is simply a writer that sought out a good story and never wanted to be held responsible for the wellbeing of his subject. His guilt prevents him from leaving, yet it only leads to resentment and distrust from Nathaniel and those around him. The truth is that Steve cannot cure Nathaniel’s illness, and Nathaniel cannot cure Steve’s aimlessness. What they can offer each other is accountability and encouragement to make the most of what they’ve got.

If any of the film’s many subject points was made its focus, it might have been wonderful; unfortunately, it spreads itself too thin by trying to tackle them all. Their exploration is only partial, leaving the viewer wondering what this story was actually supposed to be about. Is it a documentary on homelessness? Is it an extravagant newspaper subscription solicitation? Is it a story about Ayers? Or is it a story about Lopez? The answer is all of the above, and yet not really any of the above. My advice is to choose what you will take away from it, just as Steve chooses simply to try helping a friend in need. Like the mind of Nathaniel, the story is a bit chaotic, but its moments of honesty are beautiful. 

The Art of Church-Hating

I apologize in advance for the lengthiness of this first post, but before I go off on too many tangents, I want to share the story of how I came to Epic and, more importantly, where I came from.

Epic is a place for those folks that want to connect with God, but don’t want the rigid legalism that comes with going to a church that believes your spiritual walk is all about reading your Bible every day, dressing modestly, praying before each meal, and shunning psychology and secular art as (probably) the roots of all evil. Welcome to my childhood.

When I was in the fourth grade, my Sunday School teacher began teaching us Greek. Note: When I shared this with Erin, he thought it was the coolest thing ever… nerd. :) Seriously, what nine-year-old dreams of spending their week studying to get a 100% on their Greek alphabet test? And honestly, what was the point? It wasn't like we were about to preach the word to the unsuspecting third graders (or even remember what we learned one week to the next). But I grew up the intellectual church, one that frowned on those other “fluffy” churches that didn’t use words like epistemology and justification and elitism.

In all fairness, the people at my church really did love each other. We were a small church of about 200-250, and our families grew up together. The countless home-school clubs, evening potlucks, volleyball games and camping trips were a testament to the fact that we genuinely liked being together. However, while I had the “second family” a church community becomes to some, I did not associate it with my definition of Church because our worship services were unflinchingly academic. Thus, I grew to believe that the most important factor in choosing a church was not its community or its outreach, but its theological soundness (which, for us, existed in a narrow space defined by Calvinism) and ability to answer tough questions about God and the Bible correctly. Now, these things are important, but they can create a very one-sided approach to one’s relationship with God – one that doesn’t allow much space for mistakes and, especially, doubt.

I think the “church-haters” to whom Epic folks refer are those that, like me, grew up in the church and then woke up one day to realize they didn’t actually know why they went and, in fact, they didn’t really want to. My time came when I started attending Biola, and the list of proper Christian habits grew a bit suffocating. My childhood church had come to a pretty traumatic end (which is a story for another time) soon before I finished high school. So when I moved to Southern California, I wasn’t connected to any Christian community and thus began a church-hopping trend that lasted through the end of college. I really hated it; my spiritual self-concept swung between feeling like church should have shown me deeper truth and feeling guilty for having the pretension to think church should have been about me at all.

One issue was that I had moved into a culture of Christian discontent, foreign from the church I grew up in where people just did and believed as they were told. Most of the people around me had something to complain about regarding church, Biola’s chapel services, our Bible classes or whatever their particular religious annoyance was: “The worship was weird,” “The speaker wouldn’t get to his point,” “I’ve heard this all before,” or “I don’t get how this applies to me.” My main complaint was about all of the complainers. I felt like every church I visited had its own set of complaints that I didn’t care to hear about over and over. Why couldn’t people just deal? Why did things have to be so emotional? Why couldn’t people see that it wasn’t all about them? Actually, I was being quite the hypocrite, accusing these people of being judgmental and moody when I myself refused to show them acceptance and a sympathetic ear.

But this was simply a symptom of a deeper problem: I was unhappy in church and didn’t really believe it could be a good thing in my life. I hadn’t felt connected to God in a church since I was in high school, if truly ever. I wanted so badly to have the sense of Christian family I’d felt as a kid, but it never occurred to me that maybe church wasn’t going to provide the kind of community I sought: one where I could grow into who I was emotionally and spiritually without having to hide all the messiness that arises along the self-discovery route. So, I finally just stopped going. While everything in my upbringing told me this was “jumping off the deep end,” releasing my death grip on church attendance helped me to shed the guilt, irritation and subsequent apathy I had felt in my faith. I knew that if God was truly who he said he was – Goodness and Beauty and Love – then having a relationship with him had to be about more than all of the graceless expectations.

Not going to church was ironically one of the best things I could have done for my spiritual health, as during this hiatus, I began to explore God’s love and its unimaginable variety of forms. “Following my heart,” if you will, I dove into the arts, movement, conversation and solitude. I spent a lot of time just wandering off and writing for hours, letting God move in my spirit and work through the millions of questions I had about who I was, what I understood about spirituality and how I connected with God. It was really tough; I had to let go of many of the definitions and guidelines I had followed my whole life. I unearthed a lot of disappointment and anger towards my childhood church, the pastor of that church, the leadership at my Christian high school and Biola, and especially myself. But slowly I felt God stir in my heart in ways that were sometimes overwhelming, yet so natural.

See, I realized that God is not some shapeless form that exists across a giant chasm, out of touch with our everyday experiences. He reveals himself in simple, personal ways. God showed himself to me in the wind at home on the San Francisco Bay, lovely little films I discovered by accident, conversations over tea with a good friend, and the way my little cousins laughed and gave me spontaneous hugs. He continues to show himself to me in the graciousness of my co-workers, the ethnic diversity of Southern California and all of the culinary perks that come with it, the gorgeous wildflowers of the Santa Ana mountains, and quiet moments at home just listening to good music. And he has shown himself to me through Epic.

By the time I graduated from Biola, I had been consistently away from church for about a year and had developed a rather cynical view towards the whole thing. But rather than reaching graduation day shouting, “Finally! Freedom from all Christian structure!” I decided I wanted to try again, with the hope that I might just find something good. Not perfect, not the product of a PhD in Theology, but honest and good. About a month after moving to Fullerton and looking around, I found Epic. I’ve still got a lot of healing to do in the whole church area, but I feel like Epic has been appropriately described as a watering hole for those wandering through their faith. But rather than describing it as the happy ending to my battle with church, I think it's just been an opportunity to get a picture of authentic Christian community, in preparation for whatever role I take in the future to nurture it.

So while I’m here, I would love to share some of the ways that God is moving in my life, hopefully creating a space to honestly share the ways that God connects with all of us, whether through art, athletics, literature, music, nature, conversations, work… whatever. I want to learn about the many dimensions of love, and I think that starts with following the things that tug on our heartstrings all the way down to their roots, finding God in both our complex passions and the simple things we think are beautiful. Church can be pretty damaging (I and my family are living proof), but when God is allowed to permeate who we are individually, we can collaborate as a community in service and creativity and just pure joy. At the end of the day, I personally think it’s worth taking the chance.