Few things are more loaded than the word "church." I have my opinions. I have my scars and war stories. Fortunately, as Eleven says, "all I have is Jesus" and the rest, is, well, the rest. There is Jesus and the Church, and sometimes the two go their separate ways, and sometimes they come together in a way that is supernatural. At this moment, I am blessed to be a part of the Vintage Faith community. I hesitate to confuse church and Jesus. Or even mash together the ideas of church and the idea of "services." (services, as in "on friday I am going to services" ses Fanboy to me this evening on the 'phone). These images don't represent Jesus, nor The Church, but of the service (and the people who were there), on a particular Sunday evening in February.
Liz Cantu asked me to document the service. I knew the church archives had a ton of inspiring images of the usual stuff; the pastors speaking from the pulpit, the candlelit tables, the wrought iron crosses, the prostrate worshippers. And while I caught quite a bit of that, I also tried to find the people. If I were to do it again, I would entirely shoot the folks.
I have a fondness for church mixing boards. Mebbe cuz' the pater always put up the mixing boards when I was growing up.
a nameless servant, laboring over the cam.
I am the church. As I try to approach the Throne of Grace as a little child.
A real child and her poppa. At the nursery. I love the nursery. Its where the real action happens.
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