My church has been talking about being in a time of spiritual dryness. I am puzzled by this because I have not really notice any difference in the church over the past year. Now that could mean that I am spiritual dead and unresponsive myself, but I somehow do not think that is the case. Over the centuries spiritual dryness has been defined as feeling separated from God, from lacking a sense of power or purpose in prayer, of going through the motions in our spiritual pilgrimage but lacking real conviction of the eternal. And there has been multitudes of counsel for how to work through those times. But how do we know that we are in those times? Is it declining church attendance, increased family problems in the congregation, decreased giving, lack of motivation to serve? I still don't know how to gauge the times of spiritual rain and spiritual dryness. After all, maybe it is just the created ebb and flow of life.
I don't live each day in great spiritual revelation, I do not see miracles happening everywhere around me, my way is not made sure by warrior angels going before me, I do not sense that I come into the throne room of God when I go to church. But I do my best to be present for those that interact with me daily, I try to be aware of my wife and her needs, I make time for the grandchildren when they come over, I offer a full day's effort for a reduced day's pay at work, I get up each day to confronts its challenges, and I go to bed each night trying to lay down anything that has clung to me from the day's activities. And I firmly believe that even though my days are predictable, unimaginative, and sometimes downright tedious, that they are lived as faithfully as lies within my power in the presence of God. They used to call that mundane, from the Latin word for world, mundus. And it is set against some spiritual ideal of the heavenly realm. That is where the conflict lies. We might theoretically be seated in the heavenlies with Christ, but we live day in and day out in a world that is slightly askew and does not yet see Christ reigning over all things.
The challenge is to know the presence of God in the mundane and not just label the tedious times as spiritual dryness. Solomon said that God has already put eternity in our hearts. It's hard to imagine spiritual dryness and eternity dwelling as room mates. I can count on one hand the times that I have really, really felt the hand of God in my life, but that does not mean that I am unaware of Him through the majority of my really tedious days. We are too quick to hang labels on life when God does not meet our expectations. I think it is just time to remain faithful in what we do with our lives, and persevere in whatever circumstances confront us. Life has always been for me one step after the next, it's time to move on.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
A Personal Struggle
I am in the midst of my own slightly past mid-life crisis as I confront the biblical ideal versus the day to day reality of my spiritual journey. I think everyone comes face to face with this crisis point more than once in their journey. The biblical ideal constantly bombards me as I listen to Christian radio, to bible preachers with a secure ministry, and to those whose lives are pretty well settled out and secure and love to remind me that God has a wonderful plan for my life and I just need to wait on His perfect timing and way. But what I struggle with is this internal conflict. I believe with all my heart that I have been given the spiritual gift of preaching and teaching, that I can cut to the heart of the biblical text and proclaim it in an understandable and powerful way. This is not an inflated view of myself, too much external confirmation from unrelated third parties has proven it over the last decades of practice. I further acknowledge that such gifts are part of the work of the Holy Spirit, a charisma from God. But here is where the conflict begins. I face the question daily of why God would make me thus and so and then not also give me opportunities to use the gift He so obviously put within me. I am not arguing with the potter about why He made me this way, I'm just asking why He made me this way and then has put me in the back of the storeroom to gather dust.
My spiritual friends counsel me to wait on God's perfect timing, but my heart tells me to pursue options, to not wait for a door to open but to knock on any door that I happen to see in front of me that has a chance to open. It must be nice to have your life's vocation fully match your spiritual expectations. I am not yet there myself.
My spiritual friends counsel me to wait on God's perfect timing, but my heart tells me to pursue options, to not wait for a door to open but to knock on any door that I happen to see in front of me that has a chance to open. It must be nice to have your life's vocation fully match your spiritual expectations. I am not yet there myself.
Monday, May 6, 2013
Reflections on a Sunday's Worship Experience
I have never been a "Lone Ranger" Christian, forging a path on my own, and thus each Sunday usually finds my wife and I settled into a pew in a local church. I don't necessarily like it, but there is something inside of me that says, for better or worse, that salvation is a communal experience and it is worked out within the body of Christ. But every Sunday is instructive because of the questions it raises within me. I used to be quite dogmatic, and quite comfortable with fixed forms that never vary. Suffice it to say that neither of those descriptions fits me quite well. So here are the thoughts that played inside my mind during this past Sunday's worship experience.
Worship versus Music: There are certain people in our church that love to sing. They always bring their instruments when invited anywhere and they would be more than happy to spend the entire church service singing. They also dominate our praise team and spiritual life committee. I noted this again when we began ten minutes late because they could not quite end the "pre-music" on time. This in itself was only a minor bump in the road, but this Sunday was also one of those Sundays in which we have an organist present. Did I mention that this particular organist has been exploring all of the nooks and crannies of our pew hymnal, resulting sometimes in songs that only she can play and that our pastor can sing. What all of that confluence of musical preference worked in me was reuminating on the proper use of music in church services. If we are trying to foster a heart of worship, a sense of awe in God's presence, and our active participation in acknowledging His great works on our behalf, shouldn't we be more in tune with the congregation in the pews rather than our own preferences and practices? No matter how good a hymn may be in terms of the message it conveys, if no one can sing it, why play it? Or if people tune out of the pre-music when it starts to run over its alloted time and go beyond its intended purpose, what is accomplished when you finally do come to the real music of worship? There is a place for "special music" or solos, but I instinctively feel they have to be the exception, not the rule. There are already too many things in church services that make us spectators rather than participants, music should not be added to the list.
Holy Spirit: We sing a lot of songs about revival and letting the fire of heaven fall on us, but I often wonder what would happen if it really did? We want the Spirit of God to be present but the scripture clearly states that He moves where He wills, just like the wind. And that movement of wind is a vivid picture. When I think on it I feel it speaks of action, of movement. The Spirit of God moving as a wind is not intended to be a breeze that makes us comfortable, but as a driving wind that moves us much as a ship moves under sail. Now it is possible to move contrary to the wind, sailing close to the wind they call it, but it is much easier to generally move in the direction the wind wants to move. It seems like a no brainer, but we spend much time asking to be moved rather than just gauging the wind and throwing ourselves into it.
Christian Concepts: We say a lot of things as Christians (things like the joy of the Lord is my strength), but what do we really mean by that or even more importantly what do we experience by it? We use words like joy, love of God, fellowship, unity, forgiveness, worship, and grace almost every Sunday but there seems little evidence that any of those things are really present and active in us. They remain just concepts that have little power to change anything until they can really be expressed in application. The usual response is to quote a scripture or two that seems to promise them or endow them on us, but I confess that I rarely feel joyful, I have a hard time understanding what God wants of me in worship, and many times there is no deep feeling of love that constrains me in church either towards God or my fellow congregants. I think sometimes we enjoy expounding concepts because it appears to lift us out of the mundane existence of the world, but what is wrong with just being yourself, being present, and participating at that point where your faith is capable of touching God? I think our gatherings would be much more authentic if we stopped being so evangelically correct in our practices.
Worship versus Music: There are certain people in our church that love to sing. They always bring their instruments when invited anywhere and they would be more than happy to spend the entire church service singing. They also dominate our praise team and spiritual life committee. I noted this again when we began ten minutes late because they could not quite end the "pre-music" on time. This in itself was only a minor bump in the road, but this Sunday was also one of those Sundays in which we have an organist present. Did I mention that this particular organist has been exploring all of the nooks and crannies of our pew hymnal, resulting sometimes in songs that only she can play and that our pastor can sing. What all of that confluence of musical preference worked in me was reuminating on the proper use of music in church services. If we are trying to foster a heart of worship, a sense of awe in God's presence, and our active participation in acknowledging His great works on our behalf, shouldn't we be more in tune with the congregation in the pews rather than our own preferences and practices? No matter how good a hymn may be in terms of the message it conveys, if no one can sing it, why play it? Or if people tune out of the pre-music when it starts to run over its alloted time and go beyond its intended purpose, what is accomplished when you finally do come to the real music of worship? There is a place for "special music" or solos, but I instinctively feel they have to be the exception, not the rule. There are already too many things in church services that make us spectators rather than participants, music should not be added to the list.
Holy Spirit: We sing a lot of songs about revival and letting the fire of heaven fall on us, but I often wonder what would happen if it really did? We want the Spirit of God to be present but the scripture clearly states that He moves where He wills, just like the wind. And that movement of wind is a vivid picture. When I think on it I feel it speaks of action, of movement. The Spirit of God moving as a wind is not intended to be a breeze that makes us comfortable, but as a driving wind that moves us much as a ship moves under sail. Now it is possible to move contrary to the wind, sailing close to the wind they call it, but it is much easier to generally move in the direction the wind wants to move. It seems like a no brainer, but we spend much time asking to be moved rather than just gauging the wind and throwing ourselves into it.
Christian Concepts: We say a lot of things as Christians (things like the joy of the Lord is my strength), but what do we really mean by that or even more importantly what do we experience by it? We use words like joy, love of God, fellowship, unity, forgiveness, worship, and grace almost every Sunday but there seems little evidence that any of those things are really present and active in us. They remain just concepts that have little power to change anything until they can really be expressed in application. The usual response is to quote a scripture or two that seems to promise them or endow them on us, but I confess that I rarely feel joyful, I have a hard time understanding what God wants of me in worship, and many times there is no deep feeling of love that constrains me in church either towards God or my fellow congregants. I think sometimes we enjoy expounding concepts because it appears to lift us out of the mundane existence of the world, but what is wrong with just being yourself, being present, and participating at that point where your faith is capable of touching God? I think our gatherings would be much more authentic if we stopped being so evangelically correct in our practices.
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