I found it interesting in Mark 12:34 that Jesus actually told a religious teacher/leader that he was not far from the kingdom of heaven. I've known this passage, but it actually struck me today in a fresh way. Jesus said that to the leader because Jesus realized that the leader actually had understanding. It seems Jesus realized this because the leader confessed it is more important to love God with everything we are and to love our neighbors to the very end than to carry out religious rituals or worship traditions. I am reminded of the conversation I had with a few deacons the other day because it occurs to me that we are all hoping to love God with our hearts, souls, minds, and strengths (not to mention our corporal heart, soul, mind, and strength) and to love one another. Could it be that there is more we can offer to God from our love so it is surrendered for God's use? Could it be that we aren't loving our neighbors as ourselves?
If we were in another person's shoes, I suspect we would want to be loved by being noticed, so we probably need to notice everyone. (I think that happens outside of worship with a multigenerational ministry focus and a visitation to seniors from younger generations that aren't just staff and that aren't just keeping appearances.) If we were in another person's shoes, I suspect we would want to have things our way, but at least for me, if I were off-base or not clicking with God's vision and direction, it would be more important that someone hung in there with me, let me speak my mind, and also patiently communicate the vision until I got it. Then I'd want to be sure I were part of it at least on a small level. I think the deacons are right to offer deacony care, and I am also convinced that every generation here needs to be reminded of God's vision as much as possible and included in it on whatever level over which we actually have the power to include them. Those who get it need to help communicate it unceasingly to those who don't. (Does any of us really get the full monty of God's vision anyway?) We need to involve and include everyone. To love someone as we want to be loved is not to placate, to appease, or even to do what we say in hopes that we can move on from this conversation; it feels condescending when people do that. Loving people as we love ourselves means hanging in their and talking with people who actually want a conversation. For the others, I am reminded of how we tend to deal with family members who speak up without actually wanting dialogue. Of course we listen; we can't do otherwise. But how much of our real attention do these people get? Not much. We can hear them, we can even respond, but at the end of the day, those are the stories about "Crazy Aunt Elma" or "Scroogy Cousin Bob" that we tell but that don't decide the direction of a family. To do that would not be to love our families, nor would it move our families in a forward-moving, healthy direction. Treating the family of God any differently is certainly not love. It is not loving people as we love ourselves. We're missing the boat bigtime if we ignore or listen to much to people who aren't interested in a dialogue. We're missing to boat, too, if we don't engage dialogue with God's people who are out there actually trying to serve God. I suspect our heart isn't God's in this matter, and I'm convinced we're still learning to love one another as we love ourselves.
So, if we want to be close to the kingdom, that may or may not look like specific activities, but it will always look like full, complete, all-in love.
04 August 2010
Clarification on Buying and Selling Spiritual Gifts
Apparently I need to dig into this a little more deeply. First, let me clarify that my status the other day ("My spiritual gifts are not a commodity to be bought and sold.") was not my way of saying that I lack appreciation or self-esteem. I don't feel used or abused by 99.9% of the people I know. I receive more appreciation than I deserve, and I have enough self-esteem for all of my Facebook friends combined. Though I am still learning how to live it out, I generally know who I am, what I have to offer, and how I can support my family, neighborhood, church family, and community.
Since updating my status that day, several people have taken it upon themselves to try and boost me up. That's very kind of you, and I appreciate you. I'll store those things away for days when I need them. THANKS!
That said, let me clarify where I'm coming from. It seems to me that we have turned a corner in North American churches that scares me. While there are exceptions to this rule, many church systems tend to shop for their leaders (paid and unpaid). The early Christians appointed leaders when it was apparent that someone was gifted to lead. A few hundred years later, when people were essentially forced into Christianity because the emperor converted and gave Christians political power that was abused, leaders were chosen by political maneuvering and hierarchy. That lasted an unfortunately long time among the churches that actually made it to the history books. (Those pockets that did it right seemingly weren't drawing attention to themselves - go figure.) In recent history, much more has been made of people's commitment to Christ manifesting fruit and gifts from the Holy Spirit of Christ. In fact, it now seems so en vogue to have people with a certain gift mix at your church that search committees (or whatever) now look only for the "right gifts" for a particular ministry position.
This is all good until we put that within our cultural context. The majority of North Americans from all walks of life live in such a manner that we are able to pick and choose everything we experience. We all pick and choose where to spend our money and time based on what is best for us and our loved ones. The people who give us the materials and experiences we want are called "customer service personnel," specifically chosen because they facilitate us spending money how we want to spend it in ways that will also benefit the service provider. We are so accustomed to this system that it is nearly impossible for us to leave it out of church life and public worship.
You know, public worship, that time when we all get together supposedly because we believe God is good and loving and God has blessed us so much that we cannot contain ourselves - we must share in the love of God with others like us! We must unite our voices together to tell God and to remind ourselves that Jesus is worth everything we have and everything that we are! Or at least, this is the Sunday School answer we give each other when asked why we attend Sunday morning worship.
Oh, but wait. We don't attend Sunday morning worship. We attend "church." "Church" isn't the group of people who exist as Christ's body anymore (thankfully, given some of the things we've done in our churches). "Church" is the place where we go on Sunday mornings. "Church" is the system intended to offer blessing and relief to me. "Church" is the place that gets my time and money when I like what's going on there. "Church" is the place I choose based on which "customer service personnel" offer the best children's program, the best things to keep my teens out of trouble and to help them stop mouthing off at home, a style of music that I can at least tolerate (hopefully like), a talk that says all the right things without making me feel poorly, people friendly enough that I feel welcome without being so friendly that they seem pushy, a place where I can attend and - maybe - participate without feeling embarrassed for spinning my tires. If the personnel can supply the demand that I bring with me to "church," then I'll stick around most Sundays and put my money in the plate. If things get out of line, though, I won't tip...I mean give.
This is a little cynical, admittedly. Part of my wrestling right now is that I'm in a church with some of the best of all people. I regularly see some of the most wonderful, loving, generous, committed, warm people I've ever met. And I love them. Like, really. Love them. What I don't love is that while we have good people and a structure that we could make work if we really wanted to, we have an unwritten system - like almost every church I've ever seen - in which a decision isn't necessarily final if it's questioned by the right people; a person's gifts are attractive in the hiring process but not when the person actually uses their gifts to move us forward; and we spend the time that could be spent in prayer, dreaming, planning, and serving with analyzing, evaluating, retooling, and compromising.*
Our church institution is nothing new. (Now, the people are different, but the system is all too familiar.) People with great gifts are everywhere, and we're even all asking to use our gifts, hoping that we can do what we love to do at church, but until a gift (and/or a person) is approved by the system (nothing formal, of course), we don't go there. We use people whose gifts build up the system we have and contribute to the supply of people's demands. It's too bad, then, that we're doing nothing to supply God's demand, since God is supposedly the One we gather for in the first place. It's too bad that, rather than me being able simply to exercise discernment in planning and song selection, administration is producing a thoughtful flow, worship leadership in congregational singing, teaching and knowledge during the message, I join my sisters and brothers here who still use our gifts while weeding through the myriad voices of the system, trying to sway us from employing our gifts for God's good use into the system of "buying and selling," supply and demand.
*About compromise. I don't believe in it. At all. It's a surefire way for at least two people who disagree not to have to work through it and make the best decision. We call it middle-ground, but it's really the way to end up with no one happy...except anyone who doesn't want you to make a good, healthy, sacrificial decision.
Since updating my status that day, several people have taken it upon themselves to try and boost me up. That's very kind of you, and I appreciate you. I'll store those things away for days when I need them. THANKS!
That said, let me clarify where I'm coming from. It seems to me that we have turned a corner in North American churches that scares me. While there are exceptions to this rule, many church systems tend to shop for their leaders (paid and unpaid). The early Christians appointed leaders when it was apparent that someone was gifted to lead. A few hundred years later, when people were essentially forced into Christianity because the emperor converted and gave Christians political power that was abused, leaders were chosen by political maneuvering and hierarchy. That lasted an unfortunately long time among the churches that actually made it to the history books. (Those pockets that did it right seemingly weren't drawing attention to themselves - go figure.) In recent history, much more has been made of people's commitment to Christ manifesting fruit and gifts from the Holy Spirit of Christ. In fact, it now seems so en vogue to have people with a certain gift mix at your church that search committees (or whatever) now look only for the "right gifts" for a particular ministry position.
This is all good until we put that within our cultural context. The majority of North Americans from all walks of life live in such a manner that we are able to pick and choose everything we experience. We all pick and choose where to spend our money and time based on what is best for us and our loved ones. The people who give us the materials and experiences we want are called "customer service personnel," specifically chosen because they facilitate us spending money how we want to spend it in ways that will also benefit the service provider. We are so accustomed to this system that it is nearly impossible for us to leave it out of church life and public worship.
You know, public worship, that time when we all get together supposedly because we believe God is good and loving and God has blessed us so much that we cannot contain ourselves - we must share in the love of God with others like us! We must unite our voices together to tell God and to remind ourselves that Jesus is worth everything we have and everything that we are! Or at least, this is the Sunday School answer we give each other when asked why we attend Sunday morning worship.
Oh, but wait. We don't attend Sunday morning worship. We attend "church." "Church" isn't the group of people who exist as Christ's body anymore (thankfully, given some of the things we've done in our churches). "Church" is the place where we go on Sunday mornings. "Church" is the system intended to offer blessing and relief to me. "Church" is the place that gets my time and money when I like what's going on there. "Church" is the place I choose based on which "customer service personnel" offer the best children's program, the best things to keep my teens out of trouble and to help them stop mouthing off at home, a style of music that I can at least tolerate (hopefully like), a talk that says all the right things without making me feel poorly, people friendly enough that I feel welcome without being so friendly that they seem pushy, a place where I can attend and - maybe - participate without feeling embarrassed for spinning my tires. If the personnel can supply the demand that I bring with me to "church," then I'll stick around most Sundays and put my money in the plate. If things get out of line, though, I won't tip...I mean give.
This is a little cynical, admittedly. Part of my wrestling right now is that I'm in a church with some of the best of all people. I regularly see some of the most wonderful, loving, generous, committed, warm people I've ever met. And I love them. Like, really. Love them. What I don't love is that while we have good people and a structure that we could make work if we really wanted to, we have an unwritten system - like almost every church I've ever seen - in which a decision isn't necessarily final if it's questioned by the right people; a person's gifts are attractive in the hiring process but not when the person actually uses their gifts to move us forward; and we spend the time that could be spent in prayer, dreaming, planning, and serving with analyzing, evaluating, retooling, and compromising.*
Our church institution is nothing new. (Now, the people are different, but the system is all too familiar.) People with great gifts are everywhere, and we're even all asking to use our gifts, hoping that we can do what we love to do at church, but until a gift (and/or a person) is approved by the system (nothing formal, of course), we don't go there. We use people whose gifts build up the system we have and contribute to the supply of people's demands. It's too bad, then, that we're doing nothing to supply God's demand, since God is supposedly the One we gather for in the first place. It's too bad that, rather than me being able simply to exercise discernment in planning and song selection, administration is producing a thoughtful flow, worship leadership in congregational singing, teaching and knowledge during the message, I join my sisters and brothers here who still use our gifts while weeding through the myriad voices of the system, trying to sway us from employing our gifts for God's good use into the system of "buying and selling," supply and demand.
*About compromise. I don't believe in it. At all. It's a surefire way for at least two people who disagree not to have to work through it and make the best decision. We call it middle-ground, but it's really the way to end up with no one happy...except anyone who doesn't want you to make a good, healthy, sacrificial decision.
10 May 2010
Eating Crow: Your Chuckle of the Day
You can imagine how self-important I felt on my drive to the nursing home yesterday afternoon. There I was, sacrificing my own day and my own plans with Natasha to go to the nursing home and play piano for the residents on Mothers Day. I thought, "Not many people will go to the nursing home today. They will be concerned with their own Mothers Day plans to go out for someone else's day. And those who do go are probably going out of a sense of duty. They probably haven't been there in awhile, but they're thinking they'd better go on Mothers Day if they go at all!"
Who knows if that's right, but I was certainly feeling good. I stopped off at my desk to pick up a book of piano preludes that I knew would be nice for the residents. I thought, "I'll bet no one plays extra music at these events. They're probably just like I would be any other day: show up, do my thing, leave." Not me, though, not yesterday. Oh, was I ever good!
And I played beautifully! I mean beautifully. It didn't matter that the piano was in ill repair and out of tune. It didn't matter that the sound was muddy, that the sostenuto pedal was broken, or that there was so much noise that no one could hear me anyway. It was good music.
That is, it was good until I got to "Blessed Assurance." I was told ahead of time that the nursing home had their own hymnals. And they do. They're the kind with no music, I discovered upon my arrival. "No matter," I thought. "I know these songs anyway." So, when the group wanted to sing "Blessed Assurance," I prepared myself to continue blessing these people with great music.
Then I drew a blank. "What key is that in again? Is it D or G?" Now, if you're not a musician, there's a BIG difference there. Something said, "D," inside me, but I second-guessed myself and started in G. It's a good thing that Ken is a strong tenor, or no one would've been singing a perfect fifth too high, as I was playing it! "Oh, no!" I thought. "This was beautiful up till now! Aargh!!!"
So I kept playing. Then it hit me. "Modulate!" I thought. So I did. With no warning to the singers whatsoever, I began modulating between the verses. And I kept modulating until we arrived at something somewhat singable. The only problem is that on that muddy piano, the modulations were unclear, and it wasn't until several bars into each verse that anyone knew I had actually modulated. Singers in one key, piano in another, and the leader of the whole thing singing an octave below whatever he could hear that was loudest. Oh, what a shlimazel! By the end of the song, even Bernie was looking at me as if to say, "Where on earth did you go? Mars?!"
I couldn't even look at the residents. Thankfully, the one closest to me was asleep and the one beside her was just so gracious and pleased to have people around that she just encouraged us all. I felt so ashamed. I arrived with this feeling of generosity and goodwill, then I derailed an otherwise lovely afternoon. The rest of the day was salvaged quite nicely by the leader of the day and the subsequent songs, the keys of which I didn't forget. Nevertheless, I left for home praying, "Oh, it's good to be humbled!"
LE
Who knows if that's right, but I was certainly feeling good. I stopped off at my desk to pick up a book of piano preludes that I knew would be nice for the residents. I thought, "I'll bet no one plays extra music at these events. They're probably just like I would be any other day: show up, do my thing, leave." Not me, though, not yesterday. Oh, was I ever good!
And I played beautifully! I mean beautifully. It didn't matter that the piano was in ill repair and out of tune. It didn't matter that the sound was muddy, that the sostenuto pedal was broken, or that there was so much noise that no one could hear me anyway. It was good music.
That is, it was good until I got to "Blessed Assurance." I was told ahead of time that the nursing home had their own hymnals. And they do. They're the kind with no music, I discovered upon my arrival. "No matter," I thought. "I know these songs anyway." So, when the group wanted to sing "Blessed Assurance," I prepared myself to continue blessing these people with great music.
Then I drew a blank. "What key is that in again? Is it D or G?" Now, if you're not a musician, there's a BIG difference there. Something said, "D," inside me, but I second-guessed myself and started in G. It's a good thing that Ken is a strong tenor, or no one would've been singing a perfect fifth too high, as I was playing it! "Oh, no!" I thought. "This was beautiful up till now! Aargh!!!"
So I kept playing. Then it hit me. "Modulate!" I thought. So I did. With no warning to the singers whatsoever, I began modulating between the verses. And I kept modulating until we arrived at something somewhat singable. The only problem is that on that muddy piano, the modulations were unclear, and it wasn't until several bars into each verse that anyone knew I had actually modulated. Singers in one key, piano in another, and the leader of the whole thing singing an octave below whatever he could hear that was loudest. Oh, what a shlimazel! By the end of the song, even Bernie was looking at me as if to say, "Where on earth did you go? Mars?!"
I couldn't even look at the residents. Thankfully, the one closest to me was asleep and the one beside her was just so gracious and pleased to have people around that she just encouraged us all. I felt so ashamed. I arrived with this feeling of generosity and goodwill, then I derailed an otherwise lovely afternoon. The rest of the day was salvaged quite nicely by the leader of the day and the subsequent songs, the keys of which I didn't forget. Nevertheless, I left for home praying, "Oh, it's good to be humbled!"
LE
22 February 2010
How Shall We Worship - What Idols Tempt Us Away from Worshiping the Only True God?
I grew up in a conservative, church-attending, God-talk-giving, people-shunning culture. The denominations in which I grew up tended to use the word "idolatry" to judge "those people out there," or the people who weren't sitting in church pews on Sunday mornings. If I hear one more sermon about how people outside the church are worshiping things other than God, I think I may scream: why was that news to us? Why did it surprise us that people who have chosen not to worship Jesus will worship something/someone else? Why did we spend so much energy railing against people who worship idols when they were not there in the service to hear our railing in the first place?
We likely spent so much energy trying to name other people's idolatry in order to hide our own (55). I think Dawn struck gold in this chapter, not only because she affirms something I've thought for awhile now. She struck gold because she nailed the very reason why God would communicate to God's people in the Scriptures why God hates idolatry. It was to God's people that the reminder was offered in Psalm 96:5 that the gods of the nations are mere idols. It was to God's people that a reminder was offered that God is great, God is our Creator, that God is worth our praise, that God is above any false god. It is fitting, then, that Dawn would invite God's people to consider what idols tempt us away from worship in spirit and in truth.
This fifth chapter (and most vital question so far, in my books) observes how quickly God's people will replace God with anything else in worship. Here Dawn calls out how many of our worship practices, rituals, ideologies, etc., become more important than God when we worship God. If God's people truly responded to God's worthiness of our adoration, then we would "resist all idolatries of self and comfort and ease, all divinizing of worship leaders, all sacralizing of our tastes and preferences, all gods of power or success" (49). It is inappropriate to elevate a person, a program, or a function of the church to receive our adoration and highest appreciation. It is inappropriate for God's people to stress one side or another of several worship tensions like those listed on p. 53: is worship about hearing God's truth or responding to God; is it about the head or the heart; is it about keeping fresh or maintaining continuity with the past; is it contextualized or universal; is it an opportunity for new expression or familiarity for the sake of congregational participation; is it about order or freedom in the Spirit; is it about joy, delight, and elation, or sorrow, penitence, and lament; is it about enthusiastic expression or silence; is it about ritual or spontaneity; is it about simplicity or complexity? The answer should be, "Yes."
This is why I think the word "balance" has been such a trap for God's people who worship in 21st century, North American churches. I recoil at the word "balance" because discussions around "balance" generally begin and/or end in anything but balance. We have convinced ourselves that we have two poles in each of the questions above. Each polar extreme (e.g. freshness vs. continuity with the past) is placed on a scale. If we have enough freshness and enough continuity, then the scale will balance, and we'll all live to see another day in church. If, however, there's too much freshness or too much continuity, then the balance will tip to one side or another, and we are left in despair. Maintain that balance above all else! we say.
This simply cannot be. Because the answer to each of the above polarities is, "yes," we cannot strive so hard to strike balance with every tension we encounter. Seeking balance requires that we have just enough of this and just enough of that. The question becomes, "Who decides how much of one thing equals a balanced amount of something else?" Does one fresh skit in worship have so much weight that it means we should sing Doxology to Old Hundredth after the offering, recite the Apostles' Creed, and end with a hymn just to "balance" things out? Maybe doing one "old" hymn is enough to require a fresh video clip, a liturgical dance, and a praise chorus? This is nonsense that leads precisely where Dawn indicates: an idolatrous worship of the things we do rather than the One for whom we do them (52-56). Triune God has triumphed over all other gods threefold, as Father, Son, and Spirit, and, therefore, God has triumphed over things like worship elements, the appearance of a worship space or those leading in worship, our reputation in the community and our denomination, and whether we are "current" enough. If we spent as much energy worshiping God on every level listed above as we do on balancing, I suspect our worship gatherings would become revolutionary for our faith and, ironically enough, more interesting to people not in our faith.
Dawn's solution to moving away from an idolatrous balancing act into true worship of our only true God is genius. She invites the reader to consider another tension in Scripture: that between fear and love. Fortunately, she clarifies that "fear" is not synonymous with terror or feeling scared, nor is it simply reverence and awe, as we often hear it said in our camp. It is actually a realization that we are unworthy when compared to God, so we do not take God's love and mercy for granted (50). When we worship, then, it is to include both a proper sense of fear and a proper sense of love (both God's love for us and ours for God). Resolving this tension by worshiping in both "moods" better enables us to connect with and to elevate God in a way that rescues us from the snares we lay for ourselves in worship. As the Bible seems to indicate, the solution to a faith problem is neither working it out in a frenzy of self-urgency nor ignoring it so it will go away. The solution to our faith problems is to worship - to worship God, who is worth it, with all that we are in every way that we can, keeping God as our focus. It's as if Jesus meant it when He told the disciples to seek God's Kingdom first or that Paul meant it when he instructed those reading his letter to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus.
This chapter certainly unearthed some huge questions and opinions from me, but I close wondering how many of the idolatries Dawn exposes are present in my daily, personal worship. How many are in our worship at IBC? (I think I can tell you some of them....) How many are so prevalent in our present-day North American churches that we wouldn't even recognize them as a problem?! God, have mercy.
Great quote: "We spend our lives choosing what pleases us, so it is decidedly countercultural to search instead for what pleases God" (55). I like being countercultural. :)
We likely spent so much energy trying to name other people's idolatry in order to hide our own (55). I think Dawn struck gold in this chapter, not only because she affirms something I've thought for awhile now. She struck gold because she nailed the very reason why God would communicate to God's people in the Scriptures why God hates idolatry. It was to God's people that the reminder was offered in Psalm 96:5 that the gods of the nations are mere idols. It was to God's people that a reminder was offered that God is great, God is our Creator, that God is worth our praise, that God is above any false god. It is fitting, then, that Dawn would invite God's people to consider what idols tempt us away from worship in spirit and in truth.
This fifth chapter (and most vital question so far, in my books) observes how quickly God's people will replace God with anything else in worship. Here Dawn calls out how many of our worship practices, rituals, ideologies, etc., become more important than God when we worship God. If God's people truly responded to God's worthiness of our adoration, then we would "resist all idolatries of self and comfort and ease, all divinizing of worship leaders, all sacralizing of our tastes and preferences, all gods of power or success" (49). It is inappropriate to elevate a person, a program, or a function of the church to receive our adoration and highest appreciation. It is inappropriate for God's people to stress one side or another of several worship tensions like those listed on p. 53: is worship about hearing God's truth or responding to God; is it about the head or the heart; is it about keeping fresh or maintaining continuity with the past; is it contextualized or universal; is it an opportunity for new expression or familiarity for the sake of congregational participation; is it about order or freedom in the Spirit; is it about joy, delight, and elation, or sorrow, penitence, and lament; is it about enthusiastic expression or silence; is it about ritual or spontaneity; is it about simplicity or complexity? The answer should be, "Yes."
This is why I think the word "balance" has been such a trap for God's people who worship in 21st century, North American churches. I recoil at the word "balance" because discussions around "balance" generally begin and/or end in anything but balance. We have convinced ourselves that we have two poles in each of the questions above. Each polar extreme (e.g. freshness vs. continuity with the past) is placed on a scale. If we have enough freshness and enough continuity, then the scale will balance, and we'll all live to see another day in church. If, however, there's too much freshness or too much continuity, then the balance will tip to one side or another, and we are left in despair. Maintain that balance above all else! we say.
This simply cannot be. Because the answer to each of the above polarities is, "yes," we cannot strive so hard to strike balance with every tension we encounter. Seeking balance requires that we have just enough of this and just enough of that. The question becomes, "Who decides how much of one thing equals a balanced amount of something else?" Does one fresh skit in worship have so much weight that it means we should sing Doxology to Old Hundredth after the offering, recite the Apostles' Creed, and end with a hymn just to "balance" things out? Maybe doing one "old" hymn is enough to require a fresh video clip, a liturgical dance, and a praise chorus? This is nonsense that leads precisely where Dawn indicates: an idolatrous worship of the things we do rather than the One for whom we do them (52-56). Triune God has triumphed over all other gods threefold, as Father, Son, and Spirit, and, therefore, God has triumphed over things like worship elements, the appearance of a worship space or those leading in worship, our reputation in the community and our denomination, and whether we are "current" enough. If we spent as much energy worshiping God on every level listed above as we do on balancing, I suspect our worship gatherings would become revolutionary for our faith and, ironically enough, more interesting to people not in our faith.
Dawn's solution to moving away from an idolatrous balancing act into true worship of our only true God is genius. She invites the reader to consider another tension in Scripture: that between fear and love. Fortunately, she clarifies that "fear" is not synonymous with terror or feeling scared, nor is it simply reverence and awe, as we often hear it said in our camp. It is actually a realization that we are unworthy when compared to God, so we do not take God's love and mercy for granted (50). When we worship, then, it is to include both a proper sense of fear and a proper sense of love (both God's love for us and ours for God). Resolving this tension by worshiping in both "moods" better enables us to connect with and to elevate God in a way that rescues us from the snares we lay for ourselves in worship. As the Bible seems to indicate, the solution to a faith problem is neither working it out in a frenzy of self-urgency nor ignoring it so it will go away. The solution to our faith problems is to worship - to worship God, who is worth it, with all that we are in every way that we can, keeping God as our focus. It's as if Jesus meant it when He told the disciples to seek God's Kingdom first or that Paul meant it when he instructed those reading his letter to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus.
This chapter certainly unearthed some huge questions and opinions from me, but I close wondering how many of the idolatries Dawn exposes are present in my daily, personal worship. How many are in our worship at IBC? (I think I can tell you some of them....) How many are so prevalent in our present-day North American churches that we wouldn't even recognize them as a problem?! God, have mercy.
Great quote: "We spend our lives choosing what pleases us, so it is decidedly countercultural to search instead for what pleases God" (55). I like being countercultural. :)
03 February 2010
How Shall We Worship - What Will Be the Result of Genuine Worship?
Some time ago I began musing on Marva Dawn’s How Shall We Worship? (Tyndale, 2003). After nearly a month off and two subsequent interruptions in my routine, I feel happy to return to this. Chapter four was a fantastic read for many reasons, the least of which is not the challenge Dr. Dawn offers to Jesus followers in 21st century North American culture. Before I dive in, please remember that these posts are not a final opinion or a “thus saith the Lord” statement; they are my musings as a turn thoughts and feelings around inside me. :)
Dr. Dawn uses chapter four to tackle the question of the result of worship. Of course this chapter had my attention because I have experienced several perspectives on this question. Some people in my past told me that worship results in an emotional bath that cleanses our hearts and minds, leaving us in a spiritual euphoria. Others told me that it results in our intellects being boosted with theology and doctrine that reinforce Christian dogma and instruct “right” Christian living. Still others told me that worship results in engaging God at church, shutting out the rest of the week, and preparing to hear someone teach from the Scriptures.
Before reading this chapter, my big assumption was that the result of worship was all of these - and none - all at the same time. I’ve often wondered if it’s a good idea for us to spend so much time looking at the result. Dr. Dawn challenged me by challenging something much more basic, our theology of “going to church” (39). Likely one of the biggest reasons there are too many perspectives of the result of our worship is that we tend to link worship with going to church. Church is not something to go to; Church is something that Jesus’ followers are. Dr. Dawn calls people not to go to church but, rather, to be Church (40). If we are Church, then we rethink worship and its results. The result of worship is simply being Church: it is Jesus’ followers learning to live together and to impact the world around us (45).
This perspective is terribly important, particularly for our North American churches. Many churches I’ve served and heard about are attended by people who view church as a place to go, a weekly event to take in. We families and individuals choose whether or not to attend church every week for thousands of reasons. Once we get to church, we choose whether or not to participate in the worship activities for thousands more reasons. Then we leave church, going into the other 167 hours of the week either by analyzing how well we received what we just attended or by ignoring it altogether. Meanwhile, as Jesus’ followers, we are still the Church, only we have not connected with other people who make up Church, nor have we attempted to engage Christ. If worship really is our response to God’s grace, as Dr. Dawn previously wrote, then worship didn’t take place at all!
If we genuinely worship, being Church instead of attending church, then we can agree that “the result of worshiping will be that we know the Trinity better and will be formed to be more like Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit” (40). What inevitably flows out of that is a witness to the people around us (42). That witness may or may not be verbal, may or may not be logically organized, and likely will not be programmed. It will simply flow out of us to people whom we can bet are certainly paying attention to whether we who claim to follow Jesus actually follow Jesus. (A personal note: what I find scary is that if we claim to follow Jesus, then whatever we do will reflect on Jesus, rightly or wrongly, allowing people’s perception of Jesus to be shaped by what we say and do. If you don’t believe me, just think about the last conversation you had with someone who doesn’t follow Jesus. Was the conversation about Jesus being unworthy of being followed, or was it about how Christians and churches have majorly dropped the ball?)
Sometimes we wonder if it’s reasonable to think anything would flow out of us when we leave worship. It certainly won’t if we simply attend church or program church. However, “if our worship is filled with God’s Splendor - in all kinds of sounds and songs, artworks, Scripture texts, homiletical insights, holy silences, corporate prayers, forgiveness and peace-filled blessings - then we’ll have much to tell!” (43). This is the type of statement that resolves the tension between “worship” and “evangelism” in my mind. We cannot stress ourselves over attempting to evangelize when we come together in public gatherings, nor can we ignore the people coming to church who aren’t being Church. Since it’s worship, we invite the Spirit to fill what we do with God’s splendor. Then we are drawn close to God, God draws close to us (James 4:7), and Jesus is lifted up, drawing people to God (John 12:32). Our response when we come to church is actually, then, to be Church, reveling in how worthy God is of our time and attention. The result is that we’re more like Jesus, less like the humans who turn people “off” from church. Then witness takes place.
A final thought is important, since we acknowledge that witness is something that flows out of a life that is filled up with Christ. Dr. Dawn brings the reader back to Acts 2, a passage we Jesus followers often use to tell people go out and “preach those people into heaven!” Looking at Acts 2, we see that tons of people believed when Peter explained what was going on. However, even more people believed in the discussions that followed, and still more believed when people lived a life that reflected Jesus (44). Being a witness is part of being Church, but most effective witness flows out of a life that worships 168 hours per week. The witness may come about in several ways, but it will always reflect Christ and point people back to Christ, just as our worship will always reflect Christ and point us all back to Christ.
My final question is this: why do we concern ourselves with the result of worship (meaning the hour on Sunday) in the remainder of our week? Shouldn’t the public gathering culminate as the result of an entire week of worship?
LE
Dr. Dawn uses chapter four to tackle the question of the result of worship. Of course this chapter had my attention because I have experienced several perspectives on this question. Some people in my past told me that worship results in an emotional bath that cleanses our hearts and minds, leaving us in a spiritual euphoria. Others told me that it results in our intellects being boosted with theology and doctrine that reinforce Christian dogma and instruct “right” Christian living. Still others told me that worship results in engaging God at church, shutting out the rest of the week, and preparing to hear someone teach from the Scriptures.
Before reading this chapter, my big assumption was that the result of worship was all of these - and none - all at the same time. I’ve often wondered if it’s a good idea for us to spend so much time looking at the result. Dr. Dawn challenged me by challenging something much more basic, our theology of “going to church” (39). Likely one of the biggest reasons there are too many perspectives of the result of our worship is that we tend to link worship with going to church. Church is not something to go to; Church is something that Jesus’ followers are. Dr. Dawn calls people not to go to church but, rather, to be Church (40). If we are Church, then we rethink worship and its results. The result of worship is simply being Church: it is Jesus’ followers learning to live together and to impact the world around us (45).
This perspective is terribly important, particularly for our North American churches. Many churches I’ve served and heard about are attended by people who view church as a place to go, a weekly event to take in. We families and individuals choose whether or not to attend church every week for thousands of reasons. Once we get to church, we choose whether or not to participate in the worship activities for thousands more reasons. Then we leave church, going into the other 167 hours of the week either by analyzing how well we received what we just attended or by ignoring it altogether. Meanwhile, as Jesus’ followers, we are still the Church, only we have not connected with other people who make up Church, nor have we attempted to engage Christ. If worship really is our response to God’s grace, as Dr. Dawn previously wrote, then worship didn’t take place at all!
If we genuinely worship, being Church instead of attending church, then we can agree that “the result of worshiping will be that we know the Trinity better and will be formed to be more like Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit” (40). What inevitably flows out of that is a witness to the people around us (42). That witness may or may not be verbal, may or may not be logically organized, and likely will not be programmed. It will simply flow out of us to people whom we can bet are certainly paying attention to whether we who claim to follow Jesus actually follow Jesus. (A personal note: what I find scary is that if we claim to follow Jesus, then whatever we do will reflect on Jesus, rightly or wrongly, allowing people’s perception of Jesus to be shaped by what we say and do. If you don’t believe me, just think about the last conversation you had with someone who doesn’t follow Jesus. Was the conversation about Jesus being unworthy of being followed, or was it about how Christians and churches have majorly dropped the ball?)
Sometimes we wonder if it’s reasonable to think anything would flow out of us when we leave worship. It certainly won’t if we simply attend church or program church. However, “if our worship is filled with God’s Splendor - in all kinds of sounds and songs, artworks, Scripture texts, homiletical insights, holy silences, corporate prayers, forgiveness and peace-filled blessings - then we’ll have much to tell!” (43). This is the type of statement that resolves the tension between “worship” and “evangelism” in my mind. We cannot stress ourselves over attempting to evangelize when we come together in public gatherings, nor can we ignore the people coming to church who aren’t being Church. Since it’s worship, we invite the Spirit to fill what we do with God’s splendor. Then we are drawn close to God, God draws close to us (James 4:7), and Jesus is lifted up, drawing people to God (John 12:32). Our response when we come to church is actually, then, to be Church, reveling in how worthy God is of our time and attention. The result is that we’re more like Jesus, less like the humans who turn people “off” from church. Then witness takes place.
A final thought is important, since we acknowledge that witness is something that flows out of a life that is filled up with Christ. Dr. Dawn brings the reader back to Acts 2, a passage we Jesus followers often use to tell people go out and “preach those people into heaven!” Looking at Acts 2, we see that tons of people believed when Peter explained what was going on. However, even more people believed in the discussions that followed, and still more believed when people lived a life that reflected Jesus (44). Being a witness is part of being Church, but most effective witness flows out of a life that worships 168 hours per week. The witness may come about in several ways, but it will always reflect Christ and point people back to Christ, just as our worship will always reflect Christ and point us all back to Christ.
My final question is this: why do we concern ourselves with the result of worship (meaning the hour on Sunday) in the remainder of our week? Shouldn’t the public gathering culminate as the result of an entire week of worship?
LE
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