Written by Jordan White



It started junior year of high school when I went to my friend’s charismatic youth group. The room was dark, the music was loud and there was a lot of dancing. People were crying on the floor, shouting unintelligible languages and jumping.

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Written by Aly Lewis

I once asked a friend what part of social justice interested him.

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Written by Melanie Rainer

Being a mid-twenties, lifelong Christian is a funny thing. We’ve waded through the weak theology and emotional highs of youth groups. We’ve forged and fought our way through college, which stretched and tested and renewed our faith in both spiritual and academic ways.

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Written by Kennisha Hill

“So, what are the results looking like?” I finally built up enough courage to ask. And I did so slowly and cautiously— bracing the side of the examine table for his words.

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Written by Michael Hidalgo

Nearly every week I talk with someone who tells me they have been "hurt by the Church." Every time I hear these words, my heart breaks because I know exactly what they mean—and exactly what they don’t mean.

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Written by Tara Burke

I come from a family of musicians. It’s a great way to grow up, but a problem we used to often encounter is that we could not turn off that side of ourselves in church. Some of you know what I’m talking about: The band starts to play, the worship leader opens their mouth and BAM—they sing a note that is nowhere near the right key. The musician in me inwardly cringes as the worship leader attempts to try to find the melody of the song ... and fails. I know this is worship time, but I and my family can't help but give each other looks every time the singers mess up their harmonies or the drummer gets a little "too happy" on those drums.

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Written by Bryan T. Calvin

On Sundays, I drive my African-American wife and daughter to our local United Methodist church. Reflecting the north Texas suburb we live in, this church is more than 90 percent white. We attend this church despite having both grown up in Southern black churches—her AME, myself Baptist—and being black ourselves. But it is a church we greatly enjoy and fulfills most of our religious and community needs. After many late-night discussions, we made the conscious decision to be part of a small segment of African-Americans who have decided that Sunday morning ought not be the most segregated time in America (the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life notes that only 4 percent of African-Americans attend a mainline protestant church).

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Written by Chris Stedman

It felt good to pick my own pastor.

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