“When I’m under emotional fire or there’s anger or frustration, I don’t have to receive it,” says Snell, a new mother who recently qualified as a first-degree black belt. “I can deflect or block it, or just let it go. Or I can use that energy in another way.”

Snell, along with Sarah Pletcher, began attending Blessed Sacrament while a student at nearby Biola University about five years ago. Children and young people, including college-age students, make up one-third of the parish’s 380 members. “I’d gone to several churches and felt I was shipped off to the college group,” recalls Pletcher, 26, also a karate student and a former clerk of the vestry.

“At Blessed Sacrament, I could exercise my gifts as a human being. I liked the fact that they didn’t group people by age,” she says. “People were interested in me and made me feel I was a member of the church, not a college student to minister to.”

The Rev. David Baumann, rector since 1978, is a third-degree black belt and is sensei, or principal instructor, for about 63 students enrolled in Blessed Sacrament’s Ai-Ten Ryu or “Love of Heaven” martial arts school.

He says he believes young people are drawn to the congregation’s high-church liturgy, traditional conservative values, welcoming presence and, for some, karate ministry. “Five years ago, Jennifer came, looking for a traditional church with traditional values,” Baumann says. “The next Sunday, four more young people came, then six more came the following Sunday. By the end of the term, there were 20. There’ve been more ever since.”

“One of the things that attract young people is, they are challenged, not accommodated,” he says. “They are adamant that you don’t quit the church. We’re not going to change the faith. We’re not going to quit it. We’re getting along with diversity. We make our testimony. We live the faith. It has transformed many people. Everybody’s welcome, everybody’s loved.”

Young people in all ministries

Also key to its appeal is the congregation’s willingness to incorporate young people into parish life. “A lot of churches try to provide something for young people, hoping they will come,” Baumann says. “They’re not really listening. Young people don’t want to be segregated. Here, they’re in virtually every ministry.”

Since the martial-arts program began in 1985, hundreds of students have attended the distinctively Christian karate classes modeled after the Korean style of Tang Soo Do, or “Way of the Hand” -- the same style practiced by actor Chuck Norris.

Baumann, who became instructor in 1997, was among the first students. Within three years, he achieved the rank of first-degree black belt. This is the highest of seven rankings: white, yellow, green, blue, brown, red and black. After achieving black-belt status, a student may acquire additional training or degrees.

At a recent class, Baumann, dressed in the traditional black karate uniform or gi, and 22 students sat cross-legged in a circle. Centering themselves, they recited aloud the gifts of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.

After warm-up exercises, students aged 5 to 66 paired up, practicing kicks and sparring and hand movements under Baumann’s watchful eye. After class, students gather for tacos at a nearby restaurant, he said.

The congregation also hosts a summer karate camp and considers the karate school an outreach ministry. Students are asked for a $10 donation per month but aren’t required to pay, says Leslie Owens, assistant instructor. “When the school is running low on funds for supplies, Father David makes an appeal for money.”

Baumann stresses that martial arts are not violent but rather teach significant skills and life lessons, such as developing and strengthening character and confidence, as well as physical conditioning. “This ministry gives ultra-shy kids, if they focus correctly, the confidence to overcome whatever might be holding them back,” he says.

Karate ministry

It helped Owens transcend the effects of severe childhood abuse and reach out to other children in need.“Father David suggested I take the karate class. We were hoping karate would help stop my recurring nightmares,” says Owens, who is blind in her left eye as a result of childhood head trauma.

“I couldn’t take loud noises. I was afraid of interactions and gatherings. Father David suggested it might be a safe environment where I could meet other people. We hoped the karate would help desensitize me to them. I was actually afraid of physical contact then.”
Initially, the experience was difficult and challenging. Ultimately, it was transforming and rewarding. “The very first time I came, I left in five minutes. I cried all the way home,” Owens recalls. Eventually, Owens, 47, could remain through an entire session and eventually earned a black belt.

“I was surprised that I was actually able to do it,” she says. “Never did I dream in my wildest dreams that I would end up being Father David’s assistant.” Now, she teaches 60 students several nights weekly, including a group from a nearby homeless shelter.

“The first night, the kids came in and wanted to know when we’d do battle and chop people’s heads off with swords, because of the video games they watch,” she says. “They don’t have role models. Most are being raised by single parents. Some have attention-deficit hyperactive disorder. I had a girl break down crying last week. I ended the class to talk to her.”

But Owens already can see transformation. “After three months, many of them are calmer,” she says. “They’ve earned a yellow stripe, and they’re proud of it. It means they can count to ten in Korean, and they know basic movements. Now, they don’t go back to the shelter and fight.”

A year ago, Owens resigned a managerial position to begin studies toward a master’s degree in marriage and family counseling. She also hopes to incorporate her personal struggles, including five major surgeries to correct childhood-related injuries, into motivational speeches and other child advocacy.

The karate ministry and support of her family and congregation were the impetus, she says. “I want to evangelize without preaching, to do it by example. I want to give children something to hope for, to be a role model for them.”