It’s funny. I do the same thing in other aspects of life, namely music. From time to time, my wife (kindly) points out how I will listen to a certain album or song over and over and over again. “Not again,” she’ll (kindly) moan. “There you go! In a month, you’ll never want to listen to that CD again!” I try to defend myself by telling her how much I like the music or the vocals or a certain song, but it’s pretty pointless to plead my case because she’s right. Remember Jars of Clay? (Probably not) The Eleventh Hour? Furthermore From the Studio and Furthermore From the Stage? Great albums but I haven’t listened to any of them since 2004. I played them for 6 months and that was enough. In fact, I’m jammin’ to the first single off of Erykah Badu’s new album due out next month. I’ll probably be done with the song before the full album debuts.
Anyway, I had my fill of black beans, and to this day, I may have eaten a few...beans that is. I won’t even eat black-eyed peas with my wife’s family on New Year’s Day. That’s random (and maybe even a little sad).
Tonight, that’s how I feel about worship services. Don’t get me wrong. I have a strong desire to gather with others to worship, exalt, praise, magnify, and proclaim glory to the One, true and living God. However, I’m just not sure we do much of that in worship services anymore. Instead, we spell out the benefits associated with participating in worship services. As if by worshipping God with us, you are going to have an experience you’ll never forget because we’re going to meet the (spiritual) needs you have and be the church you’ve always wanted. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m sitting in a sanctuary or the flooring department of Home Depot.
Am I being too harsh? Maybe but I don’t think I buy it anymore, and believe me, there is much blame to heap on my shoulders here. For much of my ministry career, I have promulgated the very things I’m challenging. Throughout my years in full-time church work, I have spent countless hours making sure all of the worship service elements were just right, but now I’m wondering: Is that really what we have to invite people into? It seems like "Join us for worship this Sunday!" and "God answers knee-mail." are the only two choices for the church marquee. Is that really what following Jesus is about? If so, then why don’t we all go to Fellowship. At least they have smoke machines and a bookstore. Plus, if we all go, they’ll overtake Lakewood as the largest church in the US and that’ll be just plain cool.
I’m lost and probably on the verge of my 2nd “adult” faith crisis and I don’t even know if it’s a good thing. Did Jesus start a personal fulfillment club and forget to tell me? Is that what the Good News is really about?: “Sin, brokenness, and depression are all quite undesirable and inconvenient, so come and sit in our building for an hour a week and we’ll turn you into the person you’ve always wanted to become.”
I feel weird talking (or writing) this way, and I wonder what impact it will have on my kids. Do they really need a “youth room” with half a VW Bug and a sound system better than the one used by U2 when they played Cowboys Stadium last year to understand and embrace life with Christ?
We’re (myself included) obsessed with being the “best.” Come join our church, because we have the best _________. Fill in the blank with whatever you want. Worship band? Check. Preaching? Check. Sunday school classes? Check. Children’s programs? Check. Potluck lunches? Check. Long-term vision and growth strategies? Check. Maybe that’s fine, but most of what Jesus said about those who strive to finish first haunts me.
I guess I’m past the point of caring, which I’ll admit, is a pretty dangerous place to be, or maybe I care but about different things. I'm less concerned about “relevant worship” (whatever that means). I'm less concerned about things starting early, so I don’t miss Kickoff. I'm less concerned about the quality of the professionals. I'm less concerned about whether the lighting is provided by fluorescents or candles. I'm less concerned about whether coffee and donuts are provided, although that’s a nice touch. I don’t think I'm even concerned with whether people are able to “use their gifts.”
Are our hearts far from him? Are we striving for first or last place? Are we being poured out for others or filling our cups to over-flowing? Are we modeling for and inviting our kids into communal life or sending them away? Are we diving into the Word or looking for a lifeguard to jump in on behalf of us? Are we searching for opportunities to serve or squeezing every last drop out of opportunities to consume? These are the types of questions that are guiding my quests nowadays.
What good is it if we gain the whole world? What good is it if we have “inspiring worship services,” “solid biblical teaching,” and “casual dress?” What good is it if James Dobson himself teaches our child’s Sunday School class? What good is it if we're the perfect church that meets at just the right time with all the nice, smiling people and the most welcoming door greeters? “What kind of deal is it to get everything [we] want but lose [ourselves]?”
Like I wrote, earlier, sometimes, I feel out of place, because I don’t know many who are feeling this way. Which means, of course, that I could be wrong. Maybe I just have a sour attitude. Maybe I’m over-generalizing and needing to repent of judgment. I’m not speaking in code or hiding behind this blog to thrash around veiled personal put-downs. Instead, I’m seeking to critique and re-examine a system I have promoted. I have sacrificed sleep, time with my family, and opportunities to nurture relationships with people who don't know Jesus to go buy candles, rearrange chairs, and refine that sermon conclusion just one more time. I just want to ask (myself mostly): “Is this it?” Is this Christianity? Is this Good News?"
In November 2009, our family decided to host a neighborhood brunch on a Sunday morning. My daughter and I went door to door in our neighborhood inviting people to come to our home for brunch on the upcoming Sunday. As we knocked on a door 5 or 6 houses down from our house, a lady in her late 50s (that’s a guess...to my own discredit, I did not know her) came to the door with a harried countenance. We swiftly introduced ourselves, told her we lived down the street, and invited her to brunch at our house: “this Sunday, 10am.” Before we could finish talking, she tersely responded that she could not come because she would be “in church” at 10am. “Oh...okay,” I said with a sly smile, and she closed the door. What good is it?
0 contributions:
Post a Comment