Ecclesia (Part 1)

After hearing Sanetta preach at Gethsemane and grabbing a quick lunch with Ben, I managed to nap for a little while before rolling back out of bed to get back in my car and drive back toward downtown for my next church service, my fourth in 24 hours and my last of the weekend: Ecclesia.

I didn’t have much to go on when I set out for Ecclesia.  In fact, their website had been down in the days leading up to my visit, so all I knew about them was what my friends Collin and Jenna had told me.  The two of them visited Ecclesia periodically during their time together at Rice, and they described it as being a very mellow, very relaxed, very artsy vibe.  Very come as you are.  Very open and affirming.  Very “emerging church.”  They told me that the church meets in a coffee shop and art gallery, ministers primarily to young adults, and is also very engaged in the local community, particularly through the arts.  Based on that description alone, it sounded like a place I should check out.  The doctrinal statement on the front of their bulletin might give additional insight:

welcome to ecclesia and 2115 taft!

this is home to the xNihilo Art Gallery, Taft Street Coffee, and Hyde Park Studio.  in addition to our weekend gatherings, this space helps serve the church’s mission: telling the story of God’s redemptive work in Jesus Christ.

what we believe:

.holistic

We believe that the Gospel impacts every area of a person’s life and culture.  We reject unfounded categories that divide the world into uniquely sacred or purely secular.  God is redeeming all of creation through Jesus.

.christian

We embrace the teachings and divinity of Jesus Christ as well as His unique role as the means of salvation from sin for all who believe.  We embrace the Scripture as God’s primary instrument by which He introduces this message to the world.

.missional

We believe that the church exists for the world and not for herself – she is to introduce and usher in the Kingdom of God into every part of this world.

.community

We believe that salvation brings people together as a reflection of a triune God: Father, Son and Spirit.  Saved from sin by faith through grace, the people of God are able to live in unity as was intended by God in the beginning.

Confessions of an Art Illiterate

Because Ecclesia was such an arts-heavy environment, I need to come clean about something right up front: I do not consider myself --nor have I ever really considered myself-- to be truly artsy.  Most art is over my head, and I lack the background to appreciate true artistic experimentation.  I seldom really draw connections between theology and art, and even though I have the utmost respect for people who are able to bridge those worlds, I often just find myself nodding along in conversations with no real insights of my own to contribute.  Thanks in part to a minor number-based compulsion, I do have this weird ability to make pictures out of post-it notes, but that is really more math than art.  It’s all proportions and ratios and spatial balance, and I leave the real expressive stuff to people who have a better grasp of the emotion and feeling that go into a piece of art-- stuff that is usually beyond my full comprehension.  It’s actually a little embarrassing for me really.  People will ask me what I was feeling when I was working on a piece, and I usually make up some sort of B.S. answer, when really what I was feeling was, “Needs more red here to balance that section, and I might need to repeat that straight-line pattern to bring more uniformity.”  Art is not so much an emotional or spiritual exercise for me as a mechanical one, so when people are able to describe the deep emotions behind their own works of art, I get a little self-conscious knowing that I’m incapable of doing the same.  Hell, sometimes people are even able to describe deep emotions in my art that I certainly didn’t intend, but I’m glad that others are finding some sort of symbolic value.  Of course, it’s always just a little awkward when someone looks at one of my post-it pieces and has to explain to me “what the artist is trying to communicate.”

An example of post-it art

All this to say: when it comes to discussions of theology and the arts, I am both out of my element and out of my league, so I tend to sort of avoid this field for fear of being found out as less than artsy.  I’ve dodged the “Theology and the Arts” class for two years in a row.  I refuse to attend meetings of the div school arts group.  I get nervous about art competitions for fear that my work doesn’t measure up to the real artists.  I’m excited about collaborative projects because it means someone else can explain the emotions, and I can just focus on my beloved numbers and spatial theory.  I find excuses to miss lectures by visiting artists.  I won’t even make eye contact with Dr. Jeremy Begbie when I pass him in the hall.  Art is a subject about which I am enthusiastic, and I’m happy to know that there are so many great theological developments taking place in this arena, but discussions of it do make me kind of uneasy.  Again, I’m just afraid of being outed as the inartistic prole hiding behind the office supplies.  This was a slight issue when I was visiting Mosaic, but I was able to get around it easily enough there by just changing the subject to church planting and other ministry type things.  On the other hand, given that Ecclesia’s meeting space doubles as an art gallery, I strongly suspected that I wouldn’t have nearly as easy a time sidestepping the subject.  I decided going in that I would play up the researcher/future pastor aspects of my summer and just conveniently forget to mention that I also engage in a little art on the side.

Arrival

I pulled around to the back entrance of Ecclesia, but I wasn’t completely sure where to park, so I rolled down my window to ask another guy who happened to be walking through the parking lot.  Though his head was fashionably shaved, he was also sporting just a bit of stubble around his chin, and he was dressed fairly casually in a red polo shirt and jeans.  Though the shaved head gave him a certain ageless feel, I would guess he was hovering around 30, and he told me I was fine parking anywhere.  I pulled my car into a nearby space, and we walked in together.  “I’m Matt,” he introduced himself, and after I explained a bit about my summer travels (mispronouncing the church’s name in the process-- it’s “Eck-leh-SEE-uh”), he filled me in a bit on the church.  “Glad you could come join us.  Ecclesia is very much an arts community, and this building actually doubles as an art gallery, so it’s good you could come early and look around and take in some of the pieces on the walls.  Sorry if I’m a little out of it right now, but this is my fifth worship service of the weekend.  My wife and I actually lead worship together here.  Have to do five services each weekend so that we can get everybody in, and you do get pretty tired by number five.  Still, it’s a good sermon tonight, and I should know; I’ve heard it four times already.  Scott, our artist in residence, is preaching.”  Whoa.  Randomly bumping into the worship leader in the parking lot.  I really do have the best luck with chance encounters.

Matt Hammon, Ecclesia worship leader

I told Matt that I was at Duke, and he mentioned having just done a retreat with David Taylor.  The name didn’t ring a bell to me, but I guess he’s kind of a big dog in this field.  Matt then mentioned the work of Jeremy Begbie, so I sort of nodded and played innocent and said, “Yeah, I know he’s got that class on theology and the arts, but I don’t know much more than that.”  Lies!  I know so much more than that about Begbie!  I know he’s a musician and an author, and I have a ton of classmates who think the world of him, and I actually even know the format of his class based on conversations with people who have taken it, and it does sound great, but it’s just not really my thing, but I also almost feel like I’m disrespecting that entire field of study by not taking his class just because everyone thinks very highly of him (and rightfully so as best I can tell), and as someone who routinely passes for being an artist, I should really be more active in this kind of stuff, but I’m just not into it enough to justify giving up a class credit that I feel like I should devote to something a little more related to my long range vocational plans (like church finance or pastoral care or nonprofit management or some sort of course on reconciliation) because the truth is that I just really do not feel called to study theology and the arts even though I will continue to be supportive of that field in whatever way I can, so long as that doesn’t include giving up a class credit or attending a ton of meetings, but I didn’t dare tell Matt all of that.  Ugh, Duke baggage.  It follows you everywhere.  It’s like that creepy hitchhiker with the hook that appears in like 90% of kids’ campfire stories.

Matt needed to run a few songs with the band, so we parted ways, and I looked around the building for a bit.  The gallery space itself had the same big box feel as so many of the other contemporary churches I’ve visited this summer: concrete floors, cinderblock walls, projector screens, exposed rafters, stackable chairs, raised stage, etc.  Unlike those churches though, the walls were covered in religious artwork, and the stage was dressed somewhat: candles, a display of communion elements, and a mostly-finished painting (on which an artist would be working throughout the service).  I’ve been a little ambivalent about having artists paint throughout a service like that, but I know that my ambivalence stems from a bad experience at my church growing up where a chalk artist came and did a series of drawings that blurred the line between church and state so much that even Constantine would’ve been offended: Jesus and the American flag, a bald eagle crying a tear that had a cross in the center-- all of it enhanced by the blacklights positioned around the piece that showed a hidden message when they were turned on at the end, and though the details of that final message escape me, I’m pretty sure it had something to do with 9-11.  (You know, I always feel just a little cleansed when a repressed memory like that comes bubbling to the surface.)  So yeah, it’s something I’m ambivalent about, but in this case, the finished painting was actually a very welcome sight at the end of the service (especially since Ecclesia didn’t share that chalk artist’s reconstructionist agenda).

The artwork was fascinating to look at, and I especially enjoyed a piece where a triangular section of black fabric had been torn away to reveal a golden Ark of the Covenant underneath.  Ooo, three-pointed figures, symmetrical objects, sweet.  Hmm . . . maybe instead of trying to describe this stuff in my too-spatial jargon, I should just post a few pictures instead:

I took a little detour out to the coffee shop and purchased a Dr. Pepper in an old-timey bottle.  Normally, I would never consume liquids this close to the start of a worship service, but it’s hard to resist an old-timey Dr. Pepper.  The guy at the counter was very friendly, and when I asked to keep the bottlecap for a table I’m thinking about covering, he offered me an entire cup of discarded bottlecaps that they were going to recycle.  It was a small gesture of hospitality, but at the same time, he was taking an interest in my project, so I suddenly felt very welcome.  There were still a few people milling around the coffee shop even though the service was supposed to start in . . . um . . . I looked down at my watch and saw that it was actually several minutes after 5PM.  Like Austin Stone, it looks like Ecclesia advertises their service as starting a bit before it actually does.  I headed back to the gallery and listened and took notes as the band rehearsed a bit more.  I was particularly fascinated by some of the announcements on the screen: small group information, a homeless ministry program called Face-to-Face, an upcoming “homecoming dance,” something called “Make Art or Die,” a bread-baking ministry, an ad for Ecclesia’s twitter, etc.  I turned to my bulletin (a visually-interesting but still simple black-and-white folded page) for additional information on some of the service opportunities:

Orphan Care & Adoption Ministry

Saturday, July 23rd after the 5:00pm Gathering in the Venue.  Ecclesia is launching an Orphan Care and Adoption Ministry.  This meeting is for anyone wanting to explore ways that they can make a difference in the lives of orphans.  We will order Pink’s Pizza and talk and pray together.  Childcare is available with advanced RSVP.  Please e-mail Liz & Robbie Seay if you plan to attend; lizseay1@gmail.com

Simple Feast

Every Sunday after the 11:00am gathering in James Bute Park.  Come serve, eat lunch and hang out with our homeless brothers and sisters.  Contact Jacky Bui at jaxbui@gmail.com or 281-898-0730 for more information; you are also welcome to simply shop up in the coffee shop after the 11am gathering ends.  To help with donations of water, fresh fruit, and prayers, please email Manuel: manuel@ecclesiahouston.org.

Homeless Ministry

It is hot, hot, hot and our brothers and sisters who don’t have a home or consistent shelter can use our help.  We are asking for donations of insect repellant, deodorant, sunscreen, shorts, shirts, socks, and razors.  We have also had many requests for Bibles.  You can drop the items off in the coffee shop.  For more information, please email Manuel: manuel@ecclesiahouston.org.

I really liked the language in some of these statements, particularly phrases like “hang out with our homeless brothers and sisters.”  The church seems to be fighting really hard against an us-and-them mentality, and they appear to be succeeding at that.  Also, the incredibly specific and practical nature of the donation requests shows me that this church really does have a relationship with the homeless community there in Houston, and they are asking their homeless brothers and sisters what they need rather than simply telling them.  All of this really impressed me.  While the church is stressing helping these folks out, they’re also pushing for presence and relationships, and I think that’s exactly the message that a church needs to send its members in regard to addressing issues of homelessness.  Nicely done, Ecclesia.

Matt and company left the stage as hymns reset to contemporary instrumentation began to play over the speakers in the room.  People had been slowly filtering in, but now there was a bit more of an influx.  These were primarily casually-attired young adults of the hipster/bohemian ilk, but there were plenty of slightly preppy folks too (perhaps Rice students?).  There were only about a dozen middle-aged folks present, and the vast majority were in their 20s and 30s.  A few small children were present, and I noticed one mother walking her elementary age son and daughter around to look at the paintings.  With their neat and tidy dresses and polo shirts, they looked like the sort of family you’d see in a J.C. Penney’s catalogue, but with their interest in the artwork, they fit right in here as well.  I would guess that the crowd was roughly 80% white, so while not totally integrated, still more racially diverse than the average church.  I also noticed a few folks who looked to be somewhat down on their luck, and I’m relatively certain that they weren’t just “starving artists.”  Even though there was a 20/30-something hipster majority, it was a pretty diverse crowd, and there was a certain sense of peace about the congregation.  Maybe it was the presence of the art.  Maybe it was just the 5PM Sunday crowd being a bit more mellow.  Whatever it was, there was just a pleasantness about that room.