So I’ve been struggling for several years with the whole matter of religion.  I started to write about my wrestling and restlessness in A Hand-Tailored Life.  This isn’t the easiest topic for me to write about, mostly because there is just so much swirling about in my head and my heart.

I’m frustrated with religion.  I’m discouraged by the human constraints that have been put on God and spirituality.  I’m disgusted by the ways people have misspoken for God.   I’ve razed religion to the ground–religion as I have known it–and I’m starting from scratch.  I only want to rebuild what is actually God, what is actually true about this being, and what is real about our spirituality.   So this is my quest.  And on This Front Porch you will find some of my thoughts and grapplings about the whole endeavor.

One thing that continues to amaze me about my experiences at open mic each Friday, is how much “church” happens there each week.  I tell you, I’ve been a part of more church each Friday I’ve gone to Tia Chucha’s open mic than I’ve experienced in the pew on many Sunday mornings.

I wonder if part of it has to do with the fact that we who gather at open mic come with the specific intent to be vulnerable, to share our weaknesses, to reveal our secrets.  I have found that it is in that very baring of souls that unifies us, that strengthens us, that heals us.  And all this happens because it is safe–there is no standard to measure to, there is no judgment, there is no critique; we simply come and be exactly who we are.

we gather together
week after week
baring our souls
exposing our mistakes
unloading our sorrows

we gather together
week after week
telling our stories
of love
of loss
of life

we gather together
week after week
men and women
young and old
and every shade of flesh

we gather together
week after week
doing community
being neighbors
living the teachings