In the end, your story isn’t an epic of personal glory. You aren’t the hero. Your Savior Jesus is.
Whether a Christian enjoys high church, low church, or something in between, aesthetics in the Church are not about any one individual person and their particular tastes. Aesthetics are, fundamentally, not a matter of legalism, but of edification—that the Gospel of Christ might be preached and taught to all peoples, unhindered by its medium.
Let us live by walking with Jesus, so that our Neo-Pagan neighbors, the witch, and frankly a lot of us Christians, can put down our crystals, our superstitions, our vision boards, and our bound sage in order to live out a liturgy of life, with rituals, practices, and behaviors that reflect who we are as followers of Christ.

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Even in our principled disagreements, we continue to pray for the unity of all, and invite the world to taste and see that the Lord is good.
Sacrifice is the beating heart of the Scriptures, but also of our Christian faith.
I’m still laughing now as hard as I laughed back then. And the salve that he gave me in that moment still works some strange magic on me to this day.
Who should we baptize and when? How old does the person have to be? What if we get it wrong? Will something terrible happen to us?
Old Testament narratives foreshadowed the gifts that our Father gives us in baptism.
Have you ever grown despondent from trying so hard to stop behaving in certain destructive ways, but always failing?
Like any language, the liturgy has syntax—a structure that provides order and intelligibly communicates meaning through all that is said.
As the story unfolds we see Luther’s Heidelberg theses on display, even before the Fellowship leaves Rivendell.
What Jesus did and gives on these two Thursdays encapsulates his whole life and mission.
If you want to find God, he’s hiding in plain sight. Christ is in the very things that we would never select as a vessel befitting divinity.
By Philip Melanchthon (from the 1535 Loci Communes), translated by Scott L. Keith, Ph.D.
But I remember that that’s how it ended. Words. Wine. Blood. A sudden halt to the conversation.