The horror and the grace

Yesterday I went to church with my friend Jocelyn. We attended the International Anglican Church at Shove Chapel on the CC campus, downtown in the Springs. To all of you who have watched my struggle throughout this year to find a church with some authenticity, some relevancy, some redemption present, my search is over. This is going to be my new home.

The church is huge, old, stone, and beautiful. Think cathedral, beautiful and mystical and awe inspiring. Not co-multipurpose room with folding chairs. This was God's house. The music was beautiful and understated, a couple of acoustic guitars, a djembe, a mandolin and (egad!) a harmonica. The message talked about Gideon, understanding the gravity of the sin problem, and the gravity of the cross. The horror of our black hearts, the grace of a God who went to death for our sakes. Then we celebrated the eucharist, and sang some more, and the service was over. It lasted 2 hours and felt like 10 minutes, and the people were all very welcoming. This is where I want to stay.