I recently posted a
request for all the bloggers who attend
Artisan Church to participate in a multi-blog project by posting their thoughts about the church. The results are below. I think if I had done a better job of chasing people down, I would have a few more blogs to quote from, but it got busy last week, and I didn't really want people to be pressured, anyway. And I was very pleased with the response as it was. Big thanks to everyone who participated!
Here are some passages from what the Artisan bloggers wrote. They appear alphabetically by first name. Each blogger gets two links: the first one (on their names) is to their main blog page, and the second one (in the introduction to the citation) is for the specific post from which I'm quoting.
Bethany is the newest Artisan to participate in this project. She is a good writer and thinker, and has posted a couple times about what Artisan means to her. This passage is from a
February 7 post. I shortened it a little, not because it wasn't all good, but only so it would fit here better (note the ellipses):
I am coming back to my faith more strongly now, because of the encouragement and authenticity of the people who are a part of this community. It occurred to me the other day that I actually want to spend time with Christians, something that hasn't happened since middle school.
I am learning things now. That, in fact, the saints are people to look up to and emulate, rather than random hacks that some Pope decided he liked. That there is more to Mary the mother of Jesus than just being the mother of Jesus. That the church is what happens outside of a worship service. That it is important to serve both those inside and outside the Christian community. That laughing in church is sometimes appropriate. That following Christ is a struggle and not a walk in the park or a stroll on the beach. That hymns can be beautiful and songs written by friends can be worship. That icons are windows and not idols. That listening to Dave Matthews (Styx, Ryan Adams, the Beatles, Johnny Cash, Coltrane...) is not a mortal sin. That confession is a good and necessary thing. That communion can be taken with wine and still be holy. That those I love can be vessels for the sacred even if they are unwilling. That it's okay to cry in church out of relief rather than anger. That children are awesome reminders of how faith should be, and not just noisy distractions. That an essay, a drum lick, a photograph, a finger painting, a haunting voice, a sculpture, a soundboard, a story, a guitar solo, a smile, a graphic design, a meditation can be gifts both to and from God. That just because every good and perfect thing comes from God, it doesn't mean he doesn't use the bad and broken ones too....And many, many, many other things.
Gary has been coming to Artisan since it was born about a year ago. He came by way of Capax Dei Church, one of the two churches that merged to form Artisan. Gary may seem unassuming, but there's more to him than meets the eye. Just when you think you have him figured out, he tells something crazy, for example that he trains honeybees or can knit you a leather boot with one hand. His
contribution included this nice passage about the merge of the two churches and a bit about community at Artisan:
At one point we merged with another church. I think some people worried that there might be political problems, but that doesn't seem to have been the case. My first impression of the other church was a couple Sundays after we started meeting together. The most striking thing to me was how friendly they all were. That has continued to be the case, and I'm glad I've gotten to know them. Most of them are veteran adults (i.e. older than me), and a couple have come to be like extra sets of parents.
On that note, the emphasis on community is rather significant. Someone had the brilliant idea of having dinner at the church after the service every week, and I've since come to view that as part of "going to church." We meet all together- children are almost always included somehow. They make a concerted effort to include children, which doesn't effect me so much, but the attitude extends to everyone in general- I appreciate that we aren't partitioned off by age.
Lisa is an old friend whose identity goes far beyond any connection she may have to one of the other pastors at Artisan. She homeschools her two children and spends her nights writing Harry Potter fanfiction. Lisa has written about Artisan several times, and she told me to pick something from among her old posts. I chose
this one, where she wrote about our Pastors and Pints night at the Old Toad (an authentic British pub in Rochester):
About 15 people came through during the 1 1/2 hours I was there, and we just snacked and drank and talked about whatever people wanted to talk about. I was the only one who actually ordered a meal since I hadn't had dinner, so I ended up eating a delicious Vegetable Wellington and Greek Salad perched on my knees while I sat on the couch. Kind of like being in someone's living room.
The conversation was very Bohemian. We started off talking about the Communist Manifesto, moved onto the role of poets througout history, touched briefly on why contemporary Christian music sucks, and had a lively discussion about the definition of postmodernism. I felt like I was in a Parisian coffee house in the 60s. It was very heady. I'm not sure I've experienced anything like it before.
I'm not sure if I'd go back again [The next one is March 8, this Wednesday. —Ed.], but this is what I love so much about Artisan, that the people there just want to do life together. Whether it's at a worship service or over a community meal or hanging out in a pub. There's no "strategy" or "bait and switch." There's just "hey, that sounds cool, let's do that!"
Tracey is the most beautiful and charming member of Artisan Church. I'd like say that's the reason I married her, but our marriage predates Artisan's existence by a few years. I find myself continually amazed and impressed by what Tracey thinks and does, and by who she is. This makes being married to her a unique and profound joy. Anyway, I'm digressing. In her
post, my favorite part was this:
I see Artisan as a community for people like me: striving to be real, genuine, compassionate and truth-seeking artists. Artists in the sense that we are all creating our journey together, utilizing our abilities and minds to work through faith, not just letting someone else translate it for us.
I don't see people painting on a good face for church like I have in the past. I see friends who have valleys just like everyone else and who have hearts as big as bass drums. Also, I have never heard the Bible preached in a more effective and relevant way....And, never before have I felt the awe for God as I have in the atmosphere our church creates in music, confessional time and art.
Before Abel was born, that is all I treasured about my church. Now, I see him growing up and being a part of church. Not secluded, but loved. Last night as the sermon was finishing Abel kept asking me if we could "go sing?" I think that although he is still very young he realizes the beauty of God through music. He knows that pictures of a man on a cross means "Jesus" and that his friends at church care about him and his soul.
Tyler is a poet and musician, and he's the only one who picked up my tongue-in-cheek use of the prefix "meta-" and ran with it. He is also known to some as Tylash, a trend I intend to propagate to the greatest possible extent. Here's part of what Tylash
wrote:
What I found when I went to Artisan was a community of people who cared that I had been hurt and cared that I found healing, but who didn't presume to administer carelessly some cookie-cut remedy. Actually, I'm not sure most were aware they were administering any remedy anyway, which is to say that by expressing the church's mission by embracing me the folks at Artisan brought me healing I'm not even sure I expected.
I'm also one of those intellectual artsy-fartsy type people who drink coffee and alcohol and talk about Marx. Not surprisingly, evangelical Christendom has not been terribly open to folk like me, yet Artisan welcomed me as a whole person and values both my creative and intellectual capacities. It's been extremely rare throughout my life that anyone, church or otherwise, valued those characteristics. My parents do, and a number of friends, a number of whom are Artisan folks anyway. The rest would fit nicely, I'm sure.
Friendship and faith without pretense are where it's at, and I've found that at Artisan. Don't get all mushy on me.
Well, that's all! I'd like to thank these five fine people again for their participation. I hope you've enjoyed reading, whether or nor you're a part of Artisan Church. (I certainly enjoyed reading as I put this together today.) As you can probably tell, Artisan is a place where you would be welcome to explore who God is and what Jesus has to do with you. Consider yourself invited.
