No matter how this movie is being marketed, please note that it is not a romantic comedy. There are romance elements and comedic elements, but The Break-Up doesn't give you the warm and fuzzies.

If you can take it for what it is, the movie isn't all that bad, actually. As Brooke and Gary, played by Aniston and Vaughn, have a relationship that starts to go sour, the scenes we watch are representatives of arguments that have taken place in homes all across the world. While I could see where their communication skills were a bit lacking, I couldn't help but laugh a little at a few familiar moments during the scene where Brooke is preparing a dinner and Gary wants to relax instead of help her get things ready.

As the movie progresses, things get uglier because this couple just don't have any common sense and don't know how to talk to each other. The stunts they try certainly aren't based in any reality I know, but they do entertain.

Some of the most worthwhile moments of the movie were actually the conversations Gary has with his friend, played by a thicker version of Jon Favreau than we're used to seeing. He is both the voice of reason ("here's a key to my place") and the giver of bad advice (strip poker night), and I liked that even though his character wasn't consistent, he was the one who provided some actual good advice and funny moments.

The Break-Up was a weird one for me. It was sincere in some parts, and a bit contrived in others. It was also enjoyable at times and headache-inducing at others. If I were looking at one of those horizontal scales where one has to check the bubble of their choice, I'd probably choose one somewhere in the middle, next to the phrase, "Enjoyed Somewhat".

William Shakespeare is apparently not the only writer shocking and offending audiences this year. According to The Guardian, a play based on Geoffrey Chaucer's Canterbury Tales has been barred from a planned performance at a Spanish monastery. That's hardly surprising. Aside from the sex and fart jokes, Canterbury Tales contains scathingly satirical depictions of Catholic clergy that, if written today, would surely be met with widespread controversy and organized boycotts. I would like to point out that this is a 600-year-old work of classic English literature I'm talking about.

We have come to an awful point of decision. And the preachers may well be waiting in the wings, preparing sermons to carry on vehement spittle all manner of condemnations of consumerism. But I must tell the truth.

We are going to spend some time looking at other churches.

Some may think this akin to telling your wife, "I am going to spend some time looking at other women." You can't expect you wife to supportively make your lunch, send you on your way, and be happy for you whether you end up back home or not. While I don't expect enthusiastic support from anyone--let alone the leaders in my church--I would like to spend some time over these next few weeks thinking about what makes a community of people Christian. What is the church, and how do you find your place within it?

No, I do not believe I am possessed by the Church Shopping demon, and I have no goal to undermine the unity of the church, nor to derail the gospel in America. My goals for this quest are not so lofty. I simply want to find an environment in which I can receive God's grace, and a community to whom my gifts can be given.

It may seem like a strange time to be thinking of making a move, because it has been a year since I was on staff and got shown the door. Well, I don't know if "shown the door" is the best term, but then we never decided on one. I wasn't being "fired," I was told. Neither was I being "let go," "laid off," or anything else, apparently. I knew I wasn't quitting, but I also wasn't going to keep working there. In the end, it was called a "transition" and was linked to my graduation.

Somewhere between not being let go and not being held on to, the paychecks stopped, and all I know is that from now on I have to check the yes box on applications that ask if I have ever been involuntarily terminated.

So it's been a year now, and we have continued to attend the church. Haven't we gotten over it? Actually, no. The trust that was severed has not been repaired in the slightest, and there are indications that our experience was neither the first, nor the last of its kind. We continued to go to the church because we were in a state of such financial uncertainty that we did not know from one month to the next whether we would need to move out of our apartment, or borrow money and move across the country. For every month of this whole year, we have wondered whether we would be moving away.

So we decided to stick it out with the friends that we had, for months explaining to people that we had not moved out of state, as many had been told. But now that I have signed a year long contract to teach high school, we are finally finding that we have the time to build more than a superficial connection to a new church.

So we have finally come to this awful point of decision, seeing that in many ways it would have just been easier for everyone if we had moved away. Then, at least, it would have been a passive process and the break could have been easily blamed on the changing circumstance rather than on the real issues.

I don't yet know if we will choose a new church or continue to attend the one we've been at for more than three years now. I hope that this quest will not only illuminate the possiblities that await us in other communities, but also bring clarity to our involvement in our church now and whether or not we have been called to stick it out.