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.

Spiritual Service of Worship

Some weeks back both my wife and I were independently struck with this question part way through our church service, “Why is worship always associated with singing?”  We asked this question because we go to a church that is overly fond of singing, to the point where singing appears to be the only way in which they can really feel that they have worshiped God properly.  You won’t hardly find a formal book-prayer, or a moment of silence, or a prolonged period of introspection anywhere.  What you will find is the usual evangelical formula of song progression that mixes exuberance with solemnity and tries to bring everyone into the presence of God.  I would think it should be the other way around.  Maybe we should first check if God is in the house, then behave accordingly.  Once again I think this attitude stems from the lack of comfort we have in just living our lives as followers of Christ.  We cannot conceive of holiness as anything other than something we do, and so our tithes are not just our freely-given support of the church but the building up of the Kingdom of God (just how much input does He rally have in our annual church or home budgets anyway?), our outreach is always done somewhere "out there" on the mission field, and our worship is always in church and when we sing.  But I read Romans 12 and it says “present yourselves a living and holy sacrifice (sounds church-like to me), acceptable to God (a good thing to do what He wants), which is your spiritual service of worship (there is that troublesome word).”  Somehow that does not sound so much like something we do only on Sunday in a gathering of people accompanied by musical instruments.  It sounds more like day in and day out being a good spouse, an active parent, a faithful employee, a just employer, a man or woman of your word…that Paul says is truly a spiritual service of worship.  Or to summarize the prophet Micah’s take on what an act of worship is that brings us into the presence of God (Micah 6:6-8), it is to always act justly in every situation; to deal with kindness and compassion in every circumstance, and to walk humbly before and with the God who has called us.

Love Songs to Jesus, a Confession

I want to confess that I find it difficult during Sunday worship or in special church settings to emotionally respond to songs that exhort me to "celebrate Jesus" or "love Jesus".  Heck, I have basic problems with the call to "worship and adore" Him.  It's not that I don't know the truth that is contained in those exhortations, or can't explain the great gulf between the supreme worthiness of God and sinners saved by grace.  I understand the theology and biblical teaching well enough to articulate it.  The problem lies with me and the fact that I don't really know Jesus, at least not like I know my wife, or my grandchildren, or my boss at work.  I know the truth and can pretend that He lives inside of me by the Holy Spirit but right now I react to my world about 90% physical and 10% spiritual.  The fact of the matter is I can't see Him, touch Him, sit across from Him or even talk to Him face to face, and no amount of bible quoting lifts me one foot higher towards His throne in heaven.  I don't mean to sound blasphemous, but it is difficult for me in the temperament I have to relate to Jesus in the way that is expected of a typical Christian believer.  Talking into the air or cutting the pages of scripture is not very much of a conversation for me.

I don't receive special revelations; when faced with a choice I weigh it as long as I dare to before choosing what seems right.  I rarely feel that I have been divinely nudged, I don't see every moment of every day as a divine appointment and rarely can I really say that something that happened was a "God-thing".  Being surrounded by people that do respond that way makes me feel out of step, on the fringe.  All that I really end up doing is seeking to faithfully do what the prophet said, I try to act justly towards all, to seek to move in mercy not judgement, and when it comes to spiritual stuff, to humbly do whatever it is that seems to lay in front of me.  Or as my wife is fond of quoting, all you have to do is "love God and love others".  Somehow I feel that there may be more substance in a life lived in this manner than some expressive emotionalism for an hour each Sunday.  We'll have to wait and see how that all sugars off in the long run.