Joshua Seek

I recently mentioned Joy's experience during EmDes' trip to Flagstaff.  She also wrote up a different version of this blog post for the Communitas Collective.  It's beautiful.  Check it out!

“Church is Here” by Joy Shroeder

Posted by Kathy on Nov 17, 2009 | 1 Comment

in just a few months it will be 4 years since i transitioned out of the “institution” & we began cultivating the refuge community.  it has been a wild ride, and i keep learning more than i had ever expected.  one of the  most glorious parts of the transition has been meeting some amazing diverse people both online and face to face.  i am so thankful for these friendships & connections, the weird way we breathe life and hope into each other near and far.  one of these friends is joy shroeder.  i met her through my blog and then had the privilege of getting to know the emerging desert community face to face on a visit out there last year.  it’s a beautiful group of exiles passionate about justice, love, and hope.   i love their heart, their questions, their dedication to being together.  joy wrote a piece for communitas collective a while back & i asked her to share again (and hope she will continue to share more).  she’s in the trenches of the transition out of the box & it is wild and scary and beautiful.  enjoy, kathy escobar

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A year and a half ago, my family and I made the intensely difficult decision to leave the institutional church. Our exodus and subsequent self-imposed exile was mind-blowingly complex, confusing, and painful. I am just now clearing the fog and learning to forge ahead, despite the lack of parameters and absolutes. Moving towards rebuilding and creating something meaningful with fellow sojourners in our Emerging Desert cohort has been a lifeline.

My family has hosted this motley crew for a weekly Sunday gathering in our home, sometimes for upwards of 30 people including nearly a dozen kids, for as long as we’ve been “outside”. We collectively strive to embody Kingdom living, together sharing meals and sacraments, stories and struggles. There’s no real format, no hierarchy, no corporate singing or children’s ministry. All we really have is our commitment to each other and a deep desire to pursue Jesus and his Gospel. But questions keep nagging me, no matter how hard I try to block them out: Does this faith community qualify as “church”? And, a darker, more insidious question: Why do I need to know?

Questions come up frequently in casual conversations with friends or acquaintances who are curious about where I’ve been, why I don’t “go to church anymore” or why we’re not available for Sunday afternoon visits. It’s a weird kind of tension for me. I’ve had many awkward conversations, stumbling over my words and rambling practically incoherently as I try to explain. I usually end up saying something like, “We’re kind of a messy collection of questioners and quitters…but…it’s really not as bad as it probably sounds…and hey, by the way, we always have great home-brewed beer.” This isn’t really an exaggeration. Our beer is really good.

I’m sure it’s a no-brainer, especially to those who have successfully conquered the hangup of “what church is or isn’t” and have readily adopted a more simplistic description. For me, it’s like I have a tiny little evangelical-mega-church-loving ‘Jiminy Cricket’ in my sub-conscience who continues to point out all the reasons why the community of faith I am invested in “isn’t really church”. Fortunately, I experienced something very recently I believe may help move me toward turning a corner on this issue.

A few weeks back, several families in Emerging Desert converged in Flagstaff, Arizona for a weekend retreat, an event I had been anticipating for several weeks. Hanging out with people I love, all under one roof for two nights, our days and evenings revolving around great food and drink as well as the uninterrupted company of each other – it promised to become one of the most meaningful experiences of my year!

Friday afternoon, several unavoidable scheduling conflicts prevented our family from leaving our home on time. Once it became evident that we’d be late, I began to feel stressed and a little stupid for not doing a better job getting us all organized and out the door more promptly. I had volunteered to provide dinner for everyone that evening and like most Type A personalities, my tardiness was freaking me out.

We finally arrived, 45 minutes later than I had planned. I apologized sheepishly to anyone and everyone while imagining the worst to be unfolding behind the doors of the enormous vacation home. Visions of grumblings about late dinner and half-starved children wailing like banshees invaded my mind. Instead, what I overheard as my family hustled inside completely changed my demeanor and the direction my evening was headed, and subtly confronted my personal struggle with what to call our group and weekly gatherings.

Emma, the precocious five-year-old daughter of one of the other families, noticed us coming through the door with overflowing armloads of food to share, and joyfully exclaimed:

“Look, Mom! Church is here!”

Her untroubled words were powerful to me in that moment, in that space and surrounded by those particular people. Her conviction was solid, unlike mine. That single innocent exclamation brought some much-needed clarity to my previously muddied thinking. For the first time, I saw what Emma saw. We are church. She recognized us as “church”. It was so simple. I was dumbfounded at that moment, finally realizing that the thing we’ve been doing and who we are as part of Emerging Desert, is in some overt way, CHURCH.

I’ve spent the past season of my life wrestling with my faith – asking complex questions of it, twisting it and holding it up to the light, demanding perfection and definition at every turn. This moment was beautiful and pure, almost instantly allowing me to let go of my need for rules, titles and walls. Why had I not been able to see that the most meaningful expressions of faith are sometimes the most simple? Church, to Emma, was someone who brings food to the hungry. Church is spending time with friends in an unhurried way. And church involves listening to the wisdom in each other, even (especially?) the voice of a young child.

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Joy Schroeder is a recovering conservative evangelical finding new hope through an unexpected faith community.  She resides in Mesa, AZ with her husband Jim and their 4 daughters.  Her blog is Give and Take.