Church of Six.

What do you want? Isn’t that a grand question? I’ve been immersed in the world of The Leftovers on HBOMax the last few weeks. Thanks for the rec Mack. I have a penchant for superlatives–especially whatever I’m listening to, watching, or reading at the particular moment. So, I’ll come back to this statement in a few months, but for now I’ll go ahead and say The Leftovers experience was one of the top TV/film type things I’ve encountered. Profound. Exhilarating. Thought provoking and filled with consideration of the Human Condition. Sarah doesn’t dig the stabbing and violence portrayed in images, so I bought the book. In fact, I bought two copies so I could read it at the same time as her.

I always wonder how much my own, your own, current experience and perspective impacts a reading or song or cinema. Or whatever. It has to have some impact. I mean, would I have gotten the same things, would the same emotions have been evoked a few months earlier by watching this? Would.

Regardless. It impacted me in the way it did at this time. In the way it is.

I have been restless. Pensive. Eager to move to what’s next, but also relishing the sharpening that is occurring in me now. Sometimes relishing. Sometimes fearing being cut. Slashed. You know, by the sharpening.

My thoughts are scattered on the current subject. Scattered. Like seed? I hope.

The Human Condition. It’s filled with temptation, suffering, doubt, fear, love, joy, anticipation, mystery, laughter, tears, distance, closeness, numbness, pain. Life. Death.


These ideas are nothing new. The commonality in this condition is something I am learning to embrace more fully. To say that I realize that I may suffer fear and tension and withdrawal while simultaneously someone else, in the very instant, is filled with courage and peace and joyful connectivity is not a profound realization in the history of human thought. Yet, when I experience such a revelation it is somehow the most profound event in my own existential journey. Until the next profound event, of course. 🙂

I won’t delve into the motivations and insecurities and whatever else that makes me want to post the picture of my newfound biceps and leaner frame. Don’t worry. I’ll spare you. But I do have those drives sometimes. Too often I suspect. 43 years old. When will I settle into myself? Ha. But like I said, I won’t get into that.

Psalm 51 has been prominent in the daily readings of the Lectionary these past few days. Restore to me the joy of my salvation the writer pleads. I get that on a level that I don’t even fully understand quite yet. Don’t even know how to begin to express. The joy of my salvation. Restore that. Loaded.

I also think about a line from one of my favorite movies where the narrator voice says “everybody looking for salvation by themselves… each like a coal drawn from the fire.”

What do I want? I want to start a church. A gathering of souls. Souls searching for something. For anything. Truth. Peace. Purpose. Meaning. Life. Hope.

I don’t mean to imply I have the answers. Only that I’m searching too. And the search for Salvation and learning to rest in the joy that Salvation exists is a journey I long for with a scattering of other travelers.

Maybe that looks like something I don’t have in mind as of yet. Maybe it’s more training. Perhaps moving deeper into the field of communion with those who suffer. Maybe it’s a leap of faith.

I’m open. To Planting. To sowing. And then to waiting. Preparing. Hoping. Searching. Seeking.


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