Different churches are treating secular influences with varying degrees of acceptance. "It is probably healthier to find out where it is that God is moving and get in on that, rather than saying, 'This is where the culture is at, let me get in on that,' and bring God there," says Seattle First Covenant Church's pastor, Mark Nilson.
Serena Wastman and her Skate Church charges, however, know exactly where the culture is moving and aren't afraid to incorporate it into their religion. Pebbles remembers thinking when they first had their vision of a youth church that catered specifically to skaters, "We could reach out to the more lost or harder to reach—skaters, alcoholics, those type of people who love music—[then] develop a way to draw them in by [using] events, demos, and heavy-metal music."
Harley Soltes
Nicole Roberts (left), Tyler Ives (center), Brennan Pebbles (second from right), and other Jesus-loving teens gather outside TORN.
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Pebbles himself was a skater when the church started, and like many of the other founding members, he had a desire to become the shepherd for their "more lost" skater friends. Catering to this crowd, however, means the leaders of Skate Church don't expect perfection. One afternoon, a group of teens are gathered at TORN, and a boy playing PlayStation screams, "Oh man! What the hell was that!?" as his character dies on-screen.
Natalie Wastman, Neumiller, and Roberts don't even flinch at this outburst. Natalie explains that at Skate Church, things like swearing are accepted—even encouraged, if that's how you would normally act. "We always say who you are away from church is who you should be at church, too," she says. "So if you swear outside of church, then you should feel comfortable to swear here. Then we work on our problems together, here, as a group.
"The funny thing is, when I teach, I really don't think it's me talking at all," continues Natalie. "I have to really completely accept what [God's] telling me." Natalie adds that she knows it isn't her carefully prepared words that usually come out during a lesson, but God's. "I get up there and I find myself saying words, saying verses I don't even know, that just come out. It's really cool."
These youth might tell you it is God's choice as to what words come out of their mouths, but regardless of what they say, naturally these lessons of faith will be a lot more credible to other teens when they hear them from people their own age.
Weekly TORN services begin at 7 p.m. on Sunday night, since, as Serena Wastman puts it, "Skateboarders don't wake up until 3 in the afternoon!" One recent Sunday, a crowd of 30 or so teens gathered, many wearing black sweatshirts emblazoned with sayings like "Satan Sucks" or "Straight Edge Warrior."
The elder Wastman welcomes everyone to service, while behind her the worship team begins to play music, and she opens in enthusiastic prayer. "We pray that thy kingdom come, here on earth as it is in heaven," she says. "We lift up Jesus as a banner; Lord God be glorified in every way. We lift you up, we give all glory and honor to you, Lord Jesus; we lift you up. In Jesus' name, Amen." She then cues the worship team: "Let's rock! Amen."
Chris Redman pounds the drum set in front of him, closing his eyes at times while his lips move to the lyrics of the Christian song. The pounding syncopation and piercing electric guitar inspire a moshlike atmosphere in the front two rows. Pebbles encourages the congregation to "lose it for God," saying God won't answer them unless they clap and raise their hands energetically.
Serena Wastman joins the crowd, barefoot and full of energy, jumping up and down and throwing her hands in the air. Whooping along to the music, she runs circles around the rest of the congregation, which claps and sings, rocking out for Jesus.
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