When we treat children's play as seriously as it deserves, we are helping them feel the joy that's to be found in the creative spirit. It's the things we play with and the people who help us play that make a great difference in our lives. - Fred Rogers

My best friend from early childhood and I would spend hours playing “Teacher” in her tiny bedroom. We would even record ourselves on one of those enormous tape players and laughed till we cried as we listened to ourselves acting out our roles in our imaginary world. Understanding my own experience as well as watching others, I’m convinced that one’s imagination and ability to play is a gift God uses to share Himself with us.

I’ve recently asked some people what games they played as children. Common answers are things like “School, Doctor, Firefighter, Army, and House.” Uncommon answers have been games like “Travel Agent and Runaways.” Seriously, runaways. That is so funny to me, but I digress. In recent research in child development, identifying the ability to have shared or “co-attention” on imaginary scenarios is a critical skill for one’s ability to relate to and work with others, as well as provide a foundation for analytical thinking, and reasoning.

I’ve seen this to be very true in my experience with children, both in the abundance of the skill, or lack thereof. Shared attention on an alternate or incomplete reality takes commitment, creativity, a strong desire to be with others and a willingness to navigate differences to move forward in the “game.”

The parallels of one’s relationship to God are easy to draw from this childhood phenomenon. God is making a new reality in the world. His game, so to speak, is to make all things new; to heal brokenness, answer human sadness, abolish the effects of evil, and restore all goodness to creation. That is what we all as humans long for too.

We have a shared scenario and co-attention with God. We can, and should, play with Him as the world of our imagination becomes reality.

In His great wisdom and grace, God has gifted us with all necessary tools to both sense and participate in this shared reality. From the seed of desire for wholeness to the power of the resurrection of Jesus in our lives, we are intimately involved in the game of bringing wholeness. We “play” with God when we celebrate victories big and small in other’s lives, when we pursue wisdom, lament injustice, fight for the underdog, and seek reconciliation.

Ultimately, God has promised to complete this reality and we will have eternity to glory in it. So, the next time you see children engaged in imaginary scenarios together, think of the complexity of sharing in this, and be reminded of God’s commitment to share His greatest reality with you.

We said goodbye to the Grace Seattle office yesterday. It has served us well; conversations had, sermons written, prayers prayed, decisions made. But, just like that, it’s gone.

That’s how things go sometimes, isn’t it? Something or someone is a part of your daily life and then it’s not. I can’t say that I am exactly heartbroken about the whole situation as the office has become a bit of fraternity house in recent years. We haven’t had any raging parties or anything; just added a number of secondhand furniture items. It also had a distinct smell. Not a bad one, just distinct. Anyway.

Regardless, I don’t feel right about the memory of the office disappearing into thin air. It was our office. So, I thought it appropriate to memorialize it with a poem. Here it goes:

Grace office, sad to see you go

The smell, discolored furniture, and water-stained ceiling

A lucid reminder that things are the way they’re supposed to be

I mean aren’t

But you were ours

We didn’t love you as you deserved, especially the carpet

But you so freely gave

Unpretentious, humble, unsanitary

You gave and gave and gave

Never asking for anything

Demanding nothing

Thank you

We will miss you

And grateful for our time together

So, what’s next for Grace Seattle staff? In the short-term, we’re nomads, but hopefully not for long. We are diligently looking for a new office. A place we can call home.

If you are so inclined, please pray for this search. We eagerly desire God to give us a place that can serve as a base of operations and be a more visible presence on Capitol Hill. Thank you.

And thank you 1406 10th Avenue, Suite 102.

Image and Story

At first glance, Caravaggio’s iconic image of Jesus being taken from the cross he died on seems dark and brutal. Just as death parades itself to be. Unexpectedly however there is life in this image. Rarely are religious images of the dead Christ without emblems of birth, life, or eternity. Even in this Counter-Reformation image characterized by the artist’s use of dark and light, there are whispers of things to come.

Imagine if this life size painting were hanging in a position that you were eye level with the body of Christ. As viewer of this scene, our eyes descend the diagonal line of mourners. Each one in their own world of sorrow. One holds hands to heaven, mouth gaping, another falls in on herself, others take the weight of the dead Christ silently, stoically.

It is hard to look closely at those that grieve.

But sorrow was not meant to be private. We are invited to look directly at the man who faces outward and are brought further into the scene when our eyes fall to the body of Jesus. We are part of the scene now.

The light in the image is brightest on the body of the dead Christ. We are forced to linger here. To consider the weight of his innocence and our guilt.

The arm of Jesus hangs limp, and his fingers rest just to the outside of the platform. This is an invitation to the viewer to come closer, to look at what is below...stones, a corner of the white cloth used to wrap the body, and a single green plant. These three symbols combine to tell the story of what was, is, and is to come: A hard earth, innocent shed blood, and life forevermore. As invited viewers of this scene we can in our hearts embrace Jesus as he descends from the cross, and trust that what is to come answers every sorrow.

“Architecture is the site of human drama”- Alberto Perez-Gomez  (Built Upon Love)

Last month, Michael briefly described how spaces of worship influence our conception of God and why it’s important for believers to be aware of that phenomena.  Drawing both from Michael and this quote from Perez-Gomez, I’ll take this opportunity to offer that worship spaces are important because they are a part of the liturgy itself.

Without any elaboration, the quote above seems, simply, to be an interesting way to think about architecture and design. Here in Seattle, we find ourselves in the midst of a situation that started long before we arrived.  And surely, the city, its government, its structures will continue on in familiar form long after we are gone. From our present perspective it’s difficult to imagine the effort it took to build the city in its current form: the harbor, parks, concert halls, office buildings, parking lots, bus routes, highways, toll-bridges, stoplights and gas stations—all of these physical things that we have put ourselves in the middle of. Thankfully, there are plenty of history books, tours, municipal websites and Wikipedia to help us understand how all this stuff came about. At some moment in time, in some part of the city, merely by our presence in the city, we become a part of it. We use the parks with our families. We drive work. We take the bus to the market to meet friends.  And we attend church to worship. All of these activities and spaces make up the drama of our lives and, in a way, add to the story of Seattle.

Just as we are now briefly a part of the Seattle’s story, we are also a part of God’s story--In Media Res, right in the middle of it. We need resources to tell us who God is and to know what He has intended for us. One of the ways in which we as a body of believers come to know God is through the retelling of God’s relationship with humanity.  Within the Liturgy the history of God’s relationship with Mankind is recounted in the Confession of Sin, the Receiving of Grace, Teaching, and even in the content of worship music. That relationship is again recalled and even strengthened through communion, petitioning, and tithing.  But what does this have to do with architecture and why should we care? For one thing, the church for us is the site where we remember God’s interaction with humanity and even uniquely experience it. It’s a sacred space.  More importantly, when we think of Ecclesiastical Architecture in terms of Liturgy, we realize that it is the tactile expression of God’s finished work-a physical, encapsulating and instructive reminder of His promises for a redeemed community, city, and earth. It’s a taste and microcosm of the City of God.

Bradley Paynter is attendee of Grace Seattle and studied architecture and design at Iowa State University.

In a recent blog post, Martin Swant argued that young people want to worship in old buildings because "it's a wonderful thing to kind of reclaim, restore, and renew a place.” It's a picture of the Gospel. Though I agree and have the same preference, I think something larger is at stake in regard to a worship space.

Philosopher and theologian Nicholas Wolterstorff of Yale University once said that buildings, both inside and outside, speak and form. They not only say something about God and the church but shape its inhabitants. Worship space spiritually forms.

In other words, the right worship space is not simply about  aesthetics or inspiration, it’s about discipleship. Space matters.

Imagine two places of worship: An elegant cathedral with high ceilings and a warehouse laced with comfortable couches. Both will shape and, in my opinion, shape differently. Both will help develop one’s conception of God, what it means to a faithful Christian, and how to participate in theGod’s mission to bring God’s love to the world.

I have firsthand experience with this. I grew up worshiping in a building that was more like a museum than a comfortable home or hip gastro pub. It was a traditional church with stained glass windows and high ceilings. Each Sunday the pastor would preach from an elevated pulpit that required me to strain my neck to watch. As a child and adolescent, I believed God to be very holy, beautiful, powerful, and unfortunately, far off. Sort of like a famous painting, a life-changing experience but not very personal. In college, I worshipped in a gym with basketball hoops on both ends and banners recounting that school’s victories. It was more casual. Comfortable. I don’t think it was a coincidence that during this time I started to see God as closer and sort of like a buddy. Not one space was better than the other or one more distinctively Christian but both were formative. Certainly there is more to the story but my point is quite simply worship space matters in regard to discipleship.

Space matters. People are shaped by where they worship.

Why am I bringing this up? A couple of reasons. First, I think decision makers need to be intentional. A perfect place will never be found until heaven meets earth, but we can be intentional in developing a space that's consistent with who we believe God is calling us to be. Second, I think Christians need to be aware of their space and ask questions like how is this space forming me? Am I believing things about God or church that need to be challenged? Celebrated?

Space matters. Space forms.