Resurrection OB: Finding Church When You Work for the Church

I have spent my entire life in the Episcopal Church, and I’ve spent my entire professional career working for a Diocese in the Episcopal Church. But for most of it, I haven’t felt entirely at home at church on Sunday. 

My formative, teenage years were spent at All Saints’ Episcopal Church in Beverly Hills, where my mother served as Associate for Pastoral Care in the 1990s. Our youth group was comprised almost entirely of staff kids. Most of us were in the chorister program. And all of us participated in exploring our faith through questioning, teasing our youth leader, and authentic participation in worship. 

Church wasn’t something we did—it was something we were. It was family, comfort, and belonging. All Saints’, Beverly Hills, left a deep mark on my faith. It shaped my understanding of God, community, and myself. It also set a high bar for what “church” should be–a place where you can breathe deeply, be fully yourself, and know without question that you were home.

But, like many young adults, I found it challenging to continue attending church throughout college–I was busy exploring life. My 20-something lifestyle was just too packed to dedicate the time to church. I felt that as I got older, I would have more time for church. But that didn’t exactly come true. 

After graduating from college, I began working for the Episcopal Diocese of Los Angeles. As I stepped deeper into the life of the Church through my career, my personal connection to a specific church became more elusive. Sunday morning felt more and more like another day of work. 

I have lived and breathed the structures, systems, and services of the Church. I love it deeply. And yet, for over 20 years, I’ve struggled to find a church that felt right for me. Even though I regularly spent Sundays in a church building. 

This was an ache I didn’t talk much about—the ache of being in the middle of the Church’s life and yet feeling oddly churchless inside it. I thought, “Maybe this is just how working for a Diocese is. Maybe personal church experience is a sacrifice I have to make for the privilege of serving professionally.”

And then Resurrection Ocean Beach happened.

When Bishop Susan shared her desire to have a church plant in Ocean Beach—the quirky, vibrant San Diego neighborhood known for its independent spirit—I knew immediately I wanted to be part of it. Not as a staff person. Not as a consultant. But as a human seeking something I hadn’t felt in a long time: a church called home.

Resurrection is lay-led and intentionally flexible. Under the guidance of Canon Jason Evans, Ministry Council Chair at Resurrection Ocean Beach, we’ve gathered every Sunday since Pentecost (2024) in our plant-filled church on Sunset Cliffs Blvd., often with a visiting priest to celebrate Eucharist. The rest— welcoming, praying, preaching, building community—is on us, the people. And I love that.

There’s something awesome about a church community guided by the hands and hearts of the people themselves. Leadership isn’t always prescribed—sometimes it emerges from the gifts, creativity, and passion of each person who gathers. Our shared responsibility brings a powerful sense of ownership and investment; we aren’t passive recipients of church life but active creators of it. It invites everyone to step forward, contribute, and experience spiritual growth in new and unexpected ways. Resurrection is thriving on the collective wisdom, humility, and faith of ordinary people living into discipleship together.

Being part of a church plant like Resurrection has been one of the most liberating spiritual experiences of my life. We are free to listen to the Spirit; to try; to fail; to try again. To respond to the spiritual heart of Ocean Beach with Christ at the center.

I realized early on that Resurrection wasn’t just giving me a new church—it was reminding me of an authentic way of being Church. A reminder that Church isn’t meant to be a place where we perform faith correctly—it’s meant to be a place where we practice faith together.

And I know I’m not alone. A fellow parishioner, who recently lost his wife, confided that he had struggled to feel comfortable in church for nearly 30 years. He looked me in the eye and said, “I’m so grateful for this,” looking up at the church building, “…this place is helping.”

After her first time celebrating Eucharist at Resurrection, The Rev. Cathey Dowdle turned to me with a beaming smile and said, “That was really fun!”

Every week, we welcome new faces—neighbors rediscovering church, some after decades of being away. In an era where many church communities anxiously wonder what the future holds, the story of Resurrection Episcopal Church is a powerful reminder that the Episcopal Church is far from finished. The newest church in the Episcopal Diocese of San Diego, Resurrection Ocean Beach, is thriving and sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ with the world in an inspiring way.

On Good Friday 2025, Resurrection hosted the final station in the neighborhood’s Stations of the Cross pilgrimage—“Jesus is laid in the tomb.” I watched nearly 200 people enter our little sanctuary throughout the afternoon, sitting, praying, weeping, hoping. (It is likely the most people to enter the church in over a decade.) Two days later, on Easter Sunday, we welcomed nearly double Resurrection’s regular weekly attendance. 

The transformation I’ve found at Resurrection is simple, but profound: I have a church again. Not because my professional experience or professional proximity to the Bishop disappeared. Not because all the tensions magically resolved. But because at Resurrection OB, I can simply be.

For the first time in decades, Sunday doesn’t feel like work. It feels like Sabbath. It feels like worship, service, and community. It feels like home.

If you are interested in supporting the work of the Episcopal Diocese of San Diego, like planting new churches, click here. To find out more about Resurrection Ocean Beach, visit resurrectionob.org or join us at 10 a.m. on any Sunday.