Voices: Gary Collier on pulsating churches

The following is transcribed from an online video:

When we talk about building a church that is close-knit, vibrant, and pulsating, we normally think about a praise team with music that echoes into the four corners of the city and a preacher that makes us laugh and cry in the same sentence, and a new state-of-the-art worship center that all by itself will go out and bring people to God.

None of us believes this, but we actually act this way – that if we have all these things in place . . . we can kind of dance down the hallways, you know, because it’s so pulsating and so marvelous . . . then we’re getting there . . . and if we’re a quiet group, then that means we’re kind of a dead church.

Now, look … these things are fine; I’m not really criticizing any of the things that I just mentioned, necessarily, but they do not define a close-knit, vibrant, and pulsating church, and that’s the point that I’m getting at.  We can have all those things and still be a dead church.

We can have all those things and have God still say to us, “I hate . . . your times of worship. . . .”

. . .

A church that is close-knit, alive, vibrant, and pulsating

  • Might run up and down the aisles, or it might stand stone-cold still.
  • Might have an awesome praise team, or some person who starts the singing from the third row.
  • Might have a preacher as well known as Billy Graham, or as dry and stiff as Gary Collier, :-) or no preacher at all.
  • Might have a brand-new, multimillion-dollar worship complex, or it might meet in a basement.

- Gary D. Collier, Coffee With Paul Ministries, Inc., transcribed from a live, Internet-delivered lesson on church community

GDC

I recommend to my readers Gary’s online bible study program.  Find more info at 
http://coffeewithpaul.com/
.  A new session begins this Saturday, June 15 — studying Galatians.

Forward and backward thinking (998) — jointly written

I’m happy today that the latter half of this post was written by a guest writer I’m very close to — Karly Rose Casey.

I recently spent more than an hour watching a baseball World Series game that was played more than 30 years ago.  I doubt I watched that game back when it was actually played, but in a strange way, it was more enjoyable for me than today’s games, because that game was played in my time — an era in which I related more to to pro phase of the greatest game ever invented.¹

In some areas of life, looking backward nostalgically is pleasurable.  In other areas, looking forward seems more appealing.  As you consider the first two areas below, realize that they are short sections that will be of most interest to musician-readers.  If you’re not interested in those, skip right ahead to the section my wife wrote!

Composers   Take Brahms and Wagner as examples.  Now, I pretty much detest the thought of Richard Wagner, not being an opera fan, and not being a fan of overblown megalomaniacs, either.  But I can admire his having looked ahead, creating newness within a larger art form.  I also admire Brahms, who was quite the backward thinker in terms of structure, form, and genre — but who infused so many of his works with new expressiveness.  Many other composers of art music can be analyzed in these terms:

Palestrina was probably mostly a backward-thinker.  

Bach, as much as I hate to admit it, was probably more a forward-thinker.  

Mozart and Haydn seem to have dwelt more in their present than in the future.

Dvorak and Mendelssohn seemed mostly content in past structures, infusing works with beauty that fit frameworks then current, or recently past.

Liszt did some things with the past while decidedly moving forward.

Debussy and Schönberg thought ahead (the former with more success than the latter!).

Instrumental music structures in academia today  In another area of musical life — the one in which I find my vocation — score study and rehearsal planning method “templates” are fairly standard.  Most of us approach daily life in ensembles in the same vein:  more or less, we study a score in certain ways, we prepare certain sections for the next rehearsal, and we lead our ensembles.  In contrast to this standard model comes the creative thinking of Carolyn Barber, Director of Bands at the University of Nebraska at Lincoln.  It’s outside my scope here to provide any of Barber’s details; suffice it to say that she is a forward thinker and an articulate, compelling leader.  She inspires many by looking ahead methodologically and musically.

Church values and practices.  Ever notice that some churches seem to delight in being backward, while others seem to thrill to being ahead of the curve?  The following thoughts on the church disparity are my wife’s.  I appreciate her having gotten out of her comfort zone to write them, and I am delighted to post them here.

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I like antiques.  The attraction to things of times past is somehow ingrained in me.  I find value and some bits of wisdom in the way things used to be.  Butter churns and wash boards are intriguing.  However, I’ll keep my washing machine and I’ll make butter in the blender in 40 seconds if I want to.

What about antique church?  We visited a conservative² Mennonite church this past Sunday.  Men and women sit on opposite sides, the women all wear head coverings (the majority are “Amish style”), the men all in white shirts and dark suits.  The sermon focused on the value of the printed page which, to give the guy a bit of credit, was an interestingly unusual topic.  His push to the congregation was to get each member to pass out 50 tracts a week.  His stats told him that if every one of the 60+ members would meet the quota, that there would be 2,000 responses in a year.  *sigh*  Really???

Apparently, he/they are completely unaware of what it takes to reach people in the real world in the year 2013.  I appreciate their simplicity, their sincerity, their steadfastness … but they’re like antiques.  I dare you to tell any random woman that using a washboard instead of the modern washing machine is better because its simpler!  OK, that’s not equal to differences in religion, but you get the point.

Back up two weeks.  We were in the gathering at The Journey church.  They have electric guitars, people in jeans, and a coffee bar.  Do they hand out tracts?  No way.  But people are flocking to them.

Why?…

Because they’re reinventing the way we “do” church so that people who don’t know Jesus will come looking . . . without having to worry about not “fitting in.”  Try that in a church that requires head coverings.

What’s more important…  That the already-Christians are cozy in their routines? Or that people who don’t know Jesus find him?  (There’s only one correct answer.  Choose wisely.)

Now, it’s not impossible for people to come to know (or re-meet) the Savior in a “normal church”, but the rate at which that is happening compared to what The Journey is getting is pretty dramatic.

“Meet people where they are” is cliché.  But, as much as I shy away from it, it applies here.  A guy with tattoos and spikey hair isn’t going to walk into a conservative Mennonite church looking for salvation.  He isn’t.  Nor is a single mom with two kids and a live-in boyfriend.  It’s not going to happen.  As a matter of fact, neither is likely to walk into ANY church building, because it’s uncomfortable.  They feel inadequate.  And/or they don’t see the need … maybe they think they’re doing “fine” as they are.

People need Jesus.  If they will come to a place where the preacher guy wears jeans and a bright plaid shirt, great; I’m all for it.  Free coffee?  Even better.  Unconventional?  A bit.  And the next generation is depending on it.

- Karly Casey

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¹ By the way, my childhood baseball hero’s birthday was two days ago, but I’m not even identifying him here, because he’s proven himself so unworthy of any more attention in this life that I don’t want to be the one to give him any more!

² “Conservative Mennonite” might also be known as “black bumper Mennonite,” as opposed to “color TV Mennonite” on the one side of the spectrum, and “Amish” on the other.

Expected answers (992)

As I begin this essay, I’m watching a master at work.

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At the performance, two days later

He is a musically gifted conductor with a long-developed, international reputation, and an artist I’ve had the honor of working with in more than one symposium.  He, like all the rest of us mortals, has a pedagogical crutch/quirk or three.  The one I’m thinking of hasn’t hampered him much, but I still notice it:  he has the habit of asking a very specific type of closed-end question.  He just queried, for instance, “Trombones, at D, I need a little bit of what?”  The “what” is a blank he’s ostensibly asking for help with, but there is only one right answer, and everyone in the room knows it.  As I said, this little teaching crutch works fine for this master conductor, but it’s a minor irritant for folks like me who dislike feeling like a blind sheep,¹ so I resist it.

I’m more bothered, though, by expected-answer word formulas (incantations?) that play a part in so many churches — of a) the mainline protestant, b) the more evangelically oriented, and c) the Roman Catholic varieties.  If a responsive reading or some such is specified thoughtfully and theologically soundly, it’s not so bad (although rarely truly inspiring for me).  What I react more negatively to is these:

  1. “The Word of the Lord” ==> “Thanks be to God”
  2. “God is good” ==> “all the time” // “All the time” ==> “God is good”

Taking those in reverse order:  I definitely do affirm that God is good all the time; I just don’t care to parrot that truth with a covey of other parrots.

And, regarding the first incantation, I might or might not believe that what was just read in church constituted “the word of the Lord” more than “the word of us.”  If I perceive it to be more employed as our word than as the Lord’s, I’m hard-pressed to recite “Thanks be to God” with the same enthusiasm.  Why my negative cast here?  Because the “thanks be to God” utterance, at worst, could be tantamount to shading the light around God’s throne by highlighting some human misappropriation.  In other words, I want to be sure that it’s truly God’s voice speaking, as opposed to some stilted, misapplied, or irrelevant phrase masquerading as God’s word.

So, whose word was it?  I suppose there’s no solid answer, because communication can be complex, especially when there are many people in a room.  Determining whose word it has just been may involve

  • consideration of the reason(s) the particular passage was selected (be careful not to be too suspicious … and also be careful not to be too gullible!)
  • awareness of the passage’s literary and/or historical context
  • assessment of the relative scriptural literacy and spiritual maturity of the group

(Generally, the more literate and mature the perspective, the more a passage may legitimately be separated from its context without misunderstanding.  The more developed the group, the greater the possibility that the passage might be well applied even when not heard in its context.)

Even if scripture — of which I hold a very high view — is used well, I retract from the call for expected answers.  I simply don’t prefer them.  They don’t thrill my soul.  They don’t ignite my passion or inspire me to worship more richly or to live more devotedly.  Those of you who are more trusting by nature, and more captivated more by large-group dynamics may naturally feel otherwise, but I offer these critical, introverted thoughts to help round out your thinking.

And now, with thanks for their existence and acknowledgement that their imperfections are minor, back to music and masters that do thrill my soul. . . .

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¹ Feeling like a blind, helpless sheep — as though I have no initiative or insight in myself —  is to be desired and avowed when Jesus is the Shepherd.  Since I repudiate the notion of apostolic/papal succession (!), though, having a “pastor” ask this kind of thing of me is far less appealing.

Real (4): covering, style, and content

As though I hadn’t done this enough already, I’m gonna commence to “preach” again — to a crowd that is probably not reading, making what I’m about to say pointless. . . .  

This first admonition is to all the vocalists in “worship teams” (why the ever-present sports reference?) and “praise bands”:  if you’re really in touch, all “realed up” and sensitized to your contemporaneity and communications, you won’t cover your face with a microphone.  To me, covering your face with as much of the mic as possible is analogous to wearing a hood over your head when a) it’s not cold and b) you’re not outside.  Obscuring your face with the mic makes you look like you’re hiding something.  Yeah, it’s a style thing, and style is always related to taste.  I get that, and I’ll be outvoted on this by all but the stodgiest of my friends (my age or younger).  I still think covering some of your communicators up, when you’re supposed to be communicating, makes little sense.

P.S.  I searched pages of Google’s “pop singer” images and never did find an example of what I’m talking about. (But I think you, my readers, will know.)  Apparently, singers and Google both know to choose better images — those that display the entire face.  On a whim, I searched “rap artists” and found these.

facemic

rapmic2

Back to music style now. . . .

A few months back, a younger acquaintance recently commented on the so-called “worship wars” and mentioned a time frame of the last decade.  Given his age, his perspective is limited to about a half-dozen years of actual experience, and he wisely expanded that by a few years to be inclusive of history he has not experienced.  My timetable’s length is more than double his when I speak of style changes in worship and assemblies.¹   I have experienced about twenty years of what he thinks of as ongoing for only ten; moreover, I’m aware that style changes were afoot before I personally became involved and attentive.  Style is always with us.  (Ever heard that John Calvin [I think it was] outlawed “those Geneva Jigs” that others might have called “spiritual songs” — because they weren’t in his favored style and didn’t have strictly biblical texts?)

I have little comparatively little concern over contemporaneity in music.  Although I don’t go out of my way to be archaic, whether an expression is hip or in any way current is far less important than whether its content is relevant to people.  Real people — those who live real lives and are more concerned with real situations than a surface-level “keep it real” might indicate — will be drawn to meaningful, genuine content.²  I recently came upon some unfamiliar hymn words that struck me as very meaningful, although a couple centuries out of date in terms of the surface-level style.  What do I do with that discovery?  Well, not a lot, really, but I surely wish more people would be more interested in such good content than in mere style.

What do I mean by good content?  Well, just like style, content is sometimes in the eye of the beholder.  Check out the words below from Bob Kauflin, a contemporary song writer, describing an album he and his group had produced.  Here, Kauflin draws attention to content over style:

Many of the lyrics on this CD were written long ago by men and women who loved God deeply and wanted to give the church tools for knowing and worshiping Him. So they wrote hymns. We want to benefit from and emulate their example.

Hymns focus on rich lyrical content, giving us a feast for the mind which leads to a feast for the heart. The music and melodies may change to communicate more effectively with each generation, but the biblical truths they proclaim remain constant and must not be lost.

The word “hymn,” often associated with supposedly moldy songs of past centuries (in other words, labeling age and neither style nor content), is better used to describe

  • musical style
  • lyrical content, and/or
  • form

… as opposed to merely commenting on how old the song is.  These days, quite a few “contemporary hymn writers” such as Kauflin and the Gettys and Stuart Townend, are standing up to advocate good, “hymnlike” depth and quality, and I applaud them.  They are writing what have been called “modern hymns for the church.”

I trust that the closure of this mini-series with some lyrics that are rich in content will highlight some truly worthy thoughts.  The excerpts below come from several centuries, including the last couple of decades.  These communicate real truths and relevant, God-honoring worship and edification for any generation.  At times, style-consciousness may lead to updating a few words and some of the music.  But, as Kauflin says, “The biblical truths they proclaim remain constant. . . .”

Lord of all being, throned afar, Thy glory flames from sun and star;
Center and soul of ev’ry sphere, yet to each loving heart how near!
Lord of all life, below, above, Whose light is truth, Whose warmth is love,
Before Thy ever-blazing throne we ask no luster of our own.
- O.W. Holmes, 19C

By faith we see the hand of God in the light of creation’s grand design,
In the lives of those who prove His faithfulness, who walk by faith and not by sight.
We will stand as children of the promise;
We will fix our eyes on Him, our soul’s reward,
Till the race is finished and the work is done,
We’ll walk by faith and not by sight.
- Keith Getty, Kristyn Getty, Stuart Townend, 21C

O Thou fount of blessing, purify my spirit, trusting only in Thy merit.
Like the holy angels who behold Thy glory, may I ceaselessly adore Thee, 
And in all, great and small, seek to do most nearly what Thou lovest dearly.
- G. Tersteegen, 18C

O for a thousand tongues to sing my great Redeemer’s praise,
The glories of my god and King, the triumphs of His grace!
- Charles Wesley, 18C

In beholding the glorious Son,
My eyes see the Magnificent One,
And His splendor, as bright as the Sun,
Reveals me:  I am undone.
- Brian Casey, 20C

Jesus, Thy name I love
All other names above.
Jesus, my Lord.
O Thou art all to me.
Nothing to please I see —
Nothing apart from Thee —
Jesus, my Lord.
-  James G. Deck, 19C

How deep the Father’s love for us! 
How vast beyond all measure – 
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure.
- S. Townend, 20C

Father and Friend, Thy light, Thy love beaming through all Thy works we see.
Thy glory gilds the heavens above, and all the earth is full of Thee.
Thy voice we hear, Thy presence feel, while Thou, too pure for mortal sight,
Enwrapt in clouds invisible, reignest the Lord of life and light.
Thy children shall not faint nor fear, sustained by this delightful thought:
Since Thou, their God, art everywhere, they cannot be where Thou art not.
J. Bowring, 19C

From life’s first cry till final breath,
Jesus commands my destiny.
- K. Getty and S. Townend, 21C

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¹ Worship is primarily a verb and should be conceived of differently from “the assembly” (gathering or meeting) of Christians.  Neither is “worship” synonymous with what is so often called “the service.”  Worship and service are certainly not the same thing, and the historically attested, yet conceptually illegitimate use of the term “service” doesn’t even enter the picture here.  A few prior writings in this topical area reside herehere and here.

² Transparently, I would add that I don’t always feel the same way when dealing with Bible translations as I do when in the musical arena.  I don’t have much patience with outmoded, oblique, obscure wordings when we’re trying to study scriptures, but I think there’s a bit more value to the aesthetic and artistic quality of song lyrics.  Artful wordings tend to be heavier on aesthetic beauty than on trendiness.

Real (3): relevance and participation in singing

Relevance in church gatherings is sometimes overrated — at least, relevance as commonly understood.

Various aspects of church and church gatherings could be discussed in terms of whether or not they manifest relevance.  Since I am a professional musician and a longtime (read:  since I was 10 or 12) careful observer of church music habits, successes, and pitfalls, I’m opting for music as the specific subject area here, in this next-in-series post on being “real” and relevant.  (Please read the last two posts for background thinking.)

Is it possible that style in music is too important when people are trying to be relevant?  I mean, when churches that want to be “real” and “seeker-sensitive” get their heads together to decide what music is going to sound like in their gatherings, don’t they think about style before anything else?  On the surface, this seems a good line of thinking — I mean, skinny jeans and contemporary decor def give u good style points (as does my texter spelling there), don’t they, and that goes a long way toward hooking a seeker.¹  I don’t discount that style is important.  I just think it’s not the only thing.  In considering church music within the context of being “real” and “seeker-sensitive,” it is important to distinguish between style and content.

But first:  a matter of the harp. harp (By that I mean something I harp on every now & then!  See here and here for more logistical considerations and background.  These prior posts are both about the same length; one is more “brass tacks,” and the other is more “from the heart.”  Or, just stay with me here!)  The next section constitutes a rather substantive “aside” that I hope will not be ignored.

Whether the songs are familiar, somewhat familiar, or unfamiliar, more people can sing if there is music notation.  When there is no notation available, you’d better provide a lot of background texture of some sort.  Otherwise, unfamiliar music is especially uncomfortable and/or leaves out the uninitiated (seekers or otherwise).  Now, make no mistake:  at The Journey in Newark, Delaware, there was a lot of background texture!  In fact, the last time we were there, we were treated to a kind of head-banging performance version of “Carol of the Bells,” with three rockers front-and-center before things got really going.  :-)  For those with sensitive ears like me, earplugs are in order, but it’s “real’ to assume that most seekers out there already have hearing damage from their earbuds and subwoofers, and they’ll probably connect with over-loud music.

ppt lyrThere will probably always be something in me that feels deflated when I’m sitting in yet another church gathering in which someone has taken the lazy path by just projecting the words.  Words-only (or simply singing from memory) can work for a few songs that are “favorites,” and I do think it’s OK to “leave out” a visitor in some activities, since the church gathering is for the church, not the unknown and often indescribable visitor.

But, if words-only is all a church ever does, it’s ill-advised, careless, and really, downright inexcusable.  We ought to realize that we are a more advanced society than ever, and there is simply no reason — technologically, societally, or sub-culturally — to assume we are all dumber than people were in the 1700s and 1800s and 1900s.  They all had notated music, and we would do better if we did, too.  It is not “musically elitist” to display music along with words.  As a rule, projecting the music allows more people to sing more confidently, whether they realize it or not.  The technological tools we have available (CCLI‘s SongSelect and The Paperless Hymnal, for example) make this quite easy, and not really much more time-consuming than displaying lyrics only on PowerPoint slides.  I am not, therefore, advocating that all churches need hymnals.  (Hymnals still have their place, and some of you middle-aged folks might be surprised at the broad range of stylistic preferences of hordes of twenty-somethings, but that’s beside the current point.)  I am saying that contemporary, seeker-sensitive churches have just as much reason to display (at least) the melody lines on their screens as the more traditional churches have either to project four-part harmony or to continue to provide hymnals in the pew racks.  Pretty much EVERY literate person benefits (some, only subliminally) from seeing the musical notations.

One undeniable trend in all singing churches is this:  the more we distance ourselves from notation, the less people in the seats will sing.  Personally, 1) I am flat-out mentally unable to sing a song I don’t know unless music notation is available; and 2) I can contribute vocally pretty well on a song I don’t know if I have the sheet music, hymnal, or projected notation available.

Another undeniable trend in a cappella churches:  the more years that transpire without music notation as the norm, the closer the congregation edges toward musical extinction.  You can do church without music at all, but I’ve not met the church that intends that, and no one seems to realize that they’re hurtling down this path to oblivion unless they change courses.  You see, if there are no instruments to carry things, notation is even more essential, for without it, there is nothing but a bad, rhythmically scattered rendition of a poorly remembered melody from the last time people heard the song on the radio, by some — which was it?  the 3rd or 4th? — group that covered the song.  Confusion quickly results.pierce1

Within the context of analyzing for the relevant/”real,” we have to admit that it’s a little weird for anybody but Girl Scouts and churches to sing together in a group.  (“Kum Ba Yah” is a great song, really, but it has often been the butt of jokes, showing that group singing is counter-cultural.)  It is no more relevant to the world out there to sing with lyrics-only than it is to sing with projected music notation or hymnals.  Group singing is pretty much out of style, and we simply have to major in offering relevant content within the songs we do sing in church.

With all that said, I would acknowledge that the “heartfelt energy level” of the singing at The Journey was a bit higher than at many other contemporary churches with a lot of instrumental texture.  (It was probably a bit higher than in most a cappella churches, too.)  They have something corporately energized going at The Journey.  But more often, in my experience, loud instruments inspire

  • hero worship (as with groupies and rock idols)
  • mumbling and half-hearted singing (as in most congregations)
  • silence (with some, no matter where you go)
  • the insertion of earplugs (as with me)

Loud instruments, then, would tend to discourage participation with any real personal dynamic.  But not always.  For instance, a relatively young, derivative organization in Searcy, Arkansas called Sons of Thunder recently almost single-handedly restored my faith in the ability of a “praise band” to inspire the congregation to pour our their hearts.  I surmise that assembly energy has more to do with the group’s health as a whole than with the particulars of the music.

Next:  The last post in this series comes in two days and deals with covering up the eyes, style, and content.

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¹ Don’t for a moment think that that “hooking” is reelly my line as a fisher of men.  But we must admit that hooking people is the way that some church salespeople think.  Sit there in your church row(boat) singing “Michael, Row the Boat Ashore,” and think about it for a moment, and you’ll reelize that something smells fishy, which makes you stop singing bass.  You’ll get that sinker feeling.  Then, just cast off and move on.  But don’t listen too closely for pitch; it’s very difficult to tuna fish.)

Real (2) — doctrine and practice

I’ve been aware of so-called seeker-sensitive churches¹ for perhaps 20 years.  I’ve always thought that was a worthy goal, but have come to accept that being seeker-sensitive is elusive and even over-rated.  Every church I’ve ever visited has been “churchy” — inherently not “real” and not seeker-sensitive, and therefore not attractive to most outsiders.  To some extent, being “attractive” equates to being “real.”  (No one really likes fake.  No one is deeply drawn to facades and veneers.)

I remember my very good friend Greg, when “pastoring” (or perhaps attempting to pastor, in my non-pastor-driven-paradigm church), trying to probe some of the congregation’s practices.  I took it that he wanted us to examine some of our particular veneers.  Impersonating a non-existent visitor, he challenged, ”Why do they sing like that?!” (perhaps especially targeting those who had never been in another denomination’s²  gatherings).  We needed to realize how odd we were in the singing arena — not necessarily to change things there, but at least to realize who we were and what outsiders’ impressions could be.

There are many aspects of a congregation’s identity and praxis that deserve some introspection, too, and maybe some scrutiny.  Not every specific should be tenaciously guarded.

Believing the above, although I have been lonely at many points, I have continued to probe my religious heritage.  I believe the inheritance of the Stone-Campbell movement — and actually, it can no longer be classed a “movement” — is worthy of love and respect, although it has veered off some of the better courses it originally set for itself.  (If you didn’t at least scan footnote #2 when its number came up above, would you please do so now?)

journey

It strikes me now, in considering and writing about “real,” that an intersection of the doctrine and practice of 1) “The Journey” and that of 2) a run-of-the-mill Church of Christ congregation might be instructive, if not intriguing.  So, here, I’ll paste in The Journey’s web statements and offer commentary from a CofC perspective.  The CofC, as some of you know, doesn’t have a standard “faith statement” or creed — although “vision” and “mission” statements, plus some thinly veiled creeds, have been cropping up in bulletins and on websites for years.  Truth be told, there’s a tacit set of doctrines that could be seen as a baseline “creed.”  We just don’t generally hold them forth as such.³

Onward to The Journey’s “faith statement.”  I’m no theologian and not even much of a church historian, but I have enough experience in the CofC to formulate a few responses to some of this.  The original statements will be in bold; my comments will be in italics.

1.  The Journey believes that God is infinitely creative, so we express our faith in infinitely creative ways.  We’re Spirit-led without being weird and mission-minded without diluting the message of Jesus.  We’re not scared of culture or seduced by it. Our approach to church isn’t traditional, but our commitment to Jesus shapes everything we believe, say, and do.

The CofC would say most of that these days, but the nicely qualified “Spirit-led” wouldn’t have been a CofC phrase until the 70s or even 80s.  Many congregations today would still shy from such a statement, irrationally fearing that attributing leadership to deity would be tantamount to denying scripture’s instructional place.  ”Hogwash,” you say?  Yep.

Not diluting the message of Jesus would resonate with most of “us” in the CofC, and congrats to The Journey for claiming, and doing (based on my limited experience), just that.  

The CofC is typically much more “scared of culture” than The Journey, and has tended not to be seduced by it.  In other words, The Journey aims to hold these two in appropriate tension, whereas the CofC has traveled the more counter-cultural path more often.  Now, to be counter-cultural can be evidence of either a scaredy-cat or a courageous man, and I’ve seen both.  Inasmuch as I’m on target here about the relationship of acknowledging and using culture (acculturating?) on the one hand, and seduction by culture on the other, The Journey is clearly more balanced.  I would also hazard that it is more relevant than most CofC groups, although perhaps not without a culture-related pitfall here & there.

Further on the “traditional” concept:  I find a sense in most CofC congregational leaders that “traditional” is not all that bad.  Some think they’re not very traditional (most of these are, anyway, no matter what they think), but whatever … most of them go through their church stuff sitting and standing comfortably within RM tradition — and in some ways within mainline Christian tradition, as well.  ”Traditional” almost always, at some point, collides with “relevant.”

2.  We believe God has given us a book (the Bible) that is true and can be trusted. It was written by men but inspired by God – and every part of it points to Jesus.  Everything that’s described below may be helpful, but when the dust settles, the Bible is our statement of faith.

This statement would meet no disagreement in the CofC.  I myself would pick at minor points:  1) the Bible is better described as a library of various books/documents, not as a single book; and 2) I might have opted for “written by men who were specially inspired by God.

Pickiness aside, the idea that the Bible is the ultimate guide for faith and practice, seen here in updated, more understandable wording, certainly constitutes common ground for these two groups.  And oh, how I wish more churches would get serious about this principle.

In the eyes of cynical seekers, belief in the truth of the scriptures might smack of blindness, i.e., not being rational or real.  This is where “real” must take a back seat to relevance, though, and The Journey does a good job of not retracting.  To believe in the truth of the scriptures is to believe you have something authentic and relevant to offer people.

3.  We believe in God.  He created everything, including you and me.  He is all-powerful, all-knowing, everywhere-present and worthy to be loved with all our heart, soul, strength, and mind.

Again, no disagreement here.  (Well, OK, grammatically speaking, I take exception to the notion that we all have one collective heart, soul, mind, and strength; I would have put that in the singular or left out the “our” altogether.)

4.  We believe God is revealed fully in Jesus, who was born of a virgin, lived a sinless life, died on a cross for our sins, and was supernaturally raised from the dead.  This planet hasn’t seen the last of him.

Standard stuff, adhered to by most evangelical (not necessarily mainliners; some of those are out of the closet with their theological liberalness these days) Christians.  ”Supernaturally” is a good word that gets at the heart of the matter, neither clouding it with the word “miraculous” nor skirting it by not mentioning the resurrection at all.  I particularly like the second sentence and think Paul and Jesus would smile at it, too.  This is at once an engaging, “hip” expression and a biblically true one.  Way to go, Journey.

5.  We believe the Holy Spirit is God in his power and presence, drawing people to him, saving us, and empowering us with gifts to work for him and fruit in our attitudes and relationships that testify to him.

I’m very impressed by this statement.  I infer, first, a wise, spiritual openness to the miraculous working of God.  Second, I perceive a stopping short of requiring that one must accept that God works now just as he did when initially confirming the deity of Jesus (in, say, the years 33-63 or so).

I find nothing in this statement that most thinking CofCers would disagree with.  To argue that the Holy Spirit is a definable “third” of the “Godhead” — which The Journey does not do here — is always scripturally a bit tenuous, but to affirm that the Holy Spirit is God at work is requisite to biblically based faith and practice.  

6.  We believe all human beings are spiritually lost, wandering around trying to make sense of this life and consistently messing it up.  Only through Jesus can we be found, and this is very much what God wants.  If we submit to Jesus’ leadership as Lord, we will be saved; if we continue on our own path, we will end up separated from God forever.  This is something God does not want.  That’s why Jesus came, and it’s also why…

First sentence:  check.  Second:  check.  Third (“If we submit …”):  big check.  Hold that thought, and skip the rest of this paragraph if you’re not interested in the Stone-Campbell Movement or the Church of Christ.  The phrase “if we continue on our own path” could be found in many conservative, dyed-in-the-wool CofC sermons, as the preachers attempt to paint a simplistic picture.  In other words, they want pew-sitters to believe that it’s all very easy:  1) if they continue on their own paths, left to their own devices (read:  the devices of other religious groups or their own misunderstandings of religion or the Bible), they are hell-bound.  And 2) on the other hand, if seekers will simply accept the RIGHT path (read:  the one that lines up with my opinions and interpretations), everything will be fine.  Let alone that the bulk of the given CofC preacher’s interpretations might be biblically sound; this sometimes amounts to little more than arrogant posturing.

Much better to do as The Journey has done, calling attention to Jesus’ leadership.  Leadership is a word I haven’t often seen in connection with “lordship,” and I find it both helpful and relevant, although it would be a trifle light if not accompanied by the theological underpinnings of what it means to have a Lord.

Style points there, by the way, with the ellipsis that leads the reader to #7!

7.  We believe in the church. It’s a community where people can find Jesus and follow him fully. The church isn’t perfect, but Jesus its leader is. God doesn’t want us doing this spiritual life in isolation; that’s why he created the whole church thing in the first place – and he’s still totally committed to it. The church is incredibly important because we have a much better chance of succeeding in our spiritual journey when we’re surrounded by other people who are moving forward in theirs.

The CofC would go with this, mostly.  Although on paper it would agree, it might not have thought to emphasize the imperfection of the human church.  Often, the CofC has been found (and can still be found) calling attention to its rightness, its supposed doctrinal purity.  Again letting alone that there are many right things in the CofC, and, I happen to think, more than in most other religious groups, it is downright repulsive to brag.  The CofC should get over its insistence that it is “right” and merely keep trying to restore, to reform, to draw ever closer to God’s revealed will.

The Journey gets an A for #7 (and really, for the entire series of statements).  It’s attractive to acknowledge that the church is imperfect and to call folks to community.  It’s also compelling to portray God as “committed” to church in this age.

In my next post, I’ll share some thoughts about the reality of music in The Journey church and in other, would-be seeker-friendly churches….

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¹ I’m leaving the ill-begotten “seeker-targeted” and “seeker-oriented” labels alone.  ”Seeker-sensitive,” however, is either neutral or good.

² Still … STILL, there are many in the Church of Christ (or Churches of Christ, or churches of  Christ — take your pick — they are used interchangeably) who stubbornly refuse to believe it is, in point of fact, a denomination.  I don’t expect ever to sacrifice the scripture-based ideal in my heart — that there be no sectarian denominations.  The Lord’s church transcends this humanly conceived, and humanly perpetuated, group.  I happen to believe that many — perhaps most — who call themselves members of the Church of Christ are also part of the Lord’s universal church.  But, c’mon, guys, reality is that the Church of Christ, even without an earthly HQ, is a Yellow-Pages-identifiable sub-group.  It has many other hallmarks of a denomination.  Its denominational language and the obvious loyalties of some of its adherents betray its status.

³ It is not my purpose here to advocate for creeds.  Far from it.  I think creeds run the risk of superimposing man’s mob-mentality word on top of God’s.

Keepin’ it real

I s’pose the notion of keepin’ it real is important to most of us.  And it’s more valid than this phrase’s association with less-than-desirable elements of society suggests.  In other words, just because hoods and hoodlums in hoodies use the phrase doesn’t mean the idea is bad.  To be “real” is to be relevant, honest, and genuine, right?

For nearly as long as I’ve been aware of so-called seeker-sensitive churches,¹ I’ve thought the descriptor represented a worthy goal, but apparently not a readily attainable one.  I mean, every church I’ve ever visited (a good number — score and scores, if not hundreds) has been “churchy” in one way or another.  Being “churchy” seems inherently not “real” and not seeker-sensitive, right?

It’s more than a tad ironic that each of the churches I’ve visited has probably thought it was fairly, or even extremely, seeker-sensitive.  Churches’² opinions of themselves rarely resemble the public’s opinion of said churches — rendering the churches’ self-generated opinions fairly useless.  (Footnotes³ in a blogpost are also fairly useless, but sometimes they help to eradicate parenthetical expressions [except in this case].)

The real question for would-be seeker-sensitive groups to consider:  how would a church go about being attractive to those outsiders who might show up, actively seeking what a church has to offer?  Being attractive doesn’t equate to being real, but the two are related.  No one really likes fake.  No one is deeply drawn to facades and veneers.real

Knowing this, a church in Delaware takes as its slogan “real church for real people.”  A church in rural New York tries to attract outsiders, as well.  One succeeds more than the other, in my estimation — if success is tied in any way to the name of the church, at least:

  • In DE, the name “The Journey” (“Your Journey” in its URL) seems inherently honest to me.
  • In NY, the name “Joy Community Church” strikes me as off-putting to real people with real lives.

It’s not that people don’t want joy.  It’s that real life doesn’t consist entirely in joy, and if I’m feeling seeky or needy or searching, I’m not going to be drawn to a group that erects a joy facade to hide behind.  Few people experience joy as a life-motif, I’m convinced.  So, leaving that NY group’s pretense aside (c’mon, stop humming “I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart . . .”), let’s talk more about the first group.  It’s the one I’ve actually visited, and it does “real” pretty well, in my estimation. . . .

The DE church, which my old friend Bob had invited us to visit when in town, is called “The Journey.”  And what about this metaphor of the life-journey?  It’s a cliché, and I sometimes tire of the surface-level interest in the so-called “Christian walk” or “faith journey,” but “journey” really is an appropriate simile.  Undergirding this idea, we have a prominent figure of speech in the gospel of Mark:  following Jesus on the way.

I would here inject a reference to a couple of prior posts on Mark’s content:

These both mention the centrality of following, of walking.  Authentic discipleship may well be summarized as “following Jesus on the way.”  The individual believer’s discipleship is to be seen as eclipsing inherited membership & institutional establishmentarianism.  Not only is “walking Christianly through life’s journey” a realistic descriptor for the contemporary mind; it’s also a biblically apt metaphor.

Now, back to real response and analysis. . . .

All the while at The Journey, I’m sitting there considering my real-life journey, because of the name.  Then as I drift in and out of awareness of those around me, I’m thinking thoughts like, “I wonder what that guy’s journey has been like” and “Is that guy hearing the same way, and making the same applications for his journey as I am for mine?”  There’s something relevant about making church gatherings tie in to the real living of real lives, and speaking in terms of “the journey of life” is one way to tie in.

journeyThe Journey has until recently been renting its facilities.  I think that if a church is large enough to need a building, renting is the way to go.  It’s less wasteful.  The Journey’s facility has been an office-type space in an industrial park, which strikes me as “real.”  The group is preparing to inhabit its own facility (seen at left) for the first time this coming weekend.  Although I wish the group had spent its money on something else, I have to give it credit for a) using rented facilities for years and b) not going into more debt to build anything new or elaborate, but rather, purchasing a pre-existing, vacant facility.  If The Journey had continued renting, it might have been even better, but I wish it well and trust that it will do good things in its more visible, larger structure.

Also at The Journey church, there is a “lead” (not “senior”) pastor.  I don’t know that this label has anything to do with sensitivity to less-churchy seekers — out in the world of workplace hierarchies, we find ample use of both terms — but I like “lead” better.  At my age, I figure I’m allowed to have some simple preferences (and will leave it there, not complaining about the ubiquitous, non-biblical use of the word “pastor” right now.)  ”Lead” seems to speak of function within a group more than calling attention to age or position.  It communicates relevance and not stodgy hierarchianism.

Mark, the lead pastor, is not referred to with the paradoxically irreverent label “reverend,” a ghastly vestige of Latin/Roman origins.  Inviting ears to attune to his message rather than appearing to demand that respect be shown to a titled position, Mark connects his own real life and inward feelings to that of “average Joe.”  In my (admittedly spotty) experience, he does this convincingly and without facade, also connecting these human experiences to biblical narrative and imperatives.  In the lobby, I see Mark doing the preacher thing a bit — meeting and greeting, you know….  But I observe that while Mark is thinking about, and talking to, those who might be “seekers,” he is all the while naturally moving back and forth between dealing with them and with those who are already disciples.  Mark’s name, not incidentally, does not appear on the church’s “business cards” or on the sign in front of the building.  I had to look all the way into the podcast section of the website to remind myself of his last name.  Admirable!  It’s not about him; it’s about everyone’s lives and souls.

An official “greeter” starts things off in an upbeat vein as the assembly gets underway.  While this is mostly unnecessary for a temperament and get-down-to-business head like mine, I recognize that it helps most people to feel good, and the greeter serves this function well.  Other evidences of being “in touch” with real life include provision of protected children’s environments and pretty good coffee.  Coffee at church is also a cliché these days, but since you can’t avoid it, you might as well offer it (and tea, and maybe hot chocolate) in an attractive atmosphere.  Add to all these things the general sense that friends are talking all around the lobby, and the considerate, all-too-often-ignored “visitors excepted” clause when an offering is taken, and you have a pretty inviting, seeker-sensitive church gathering.

I’ll soon share 1) The Journey’s “Who We Are/What We Believe” statement, and 2) a bit about the reality of music in The Journey church and in other, would-be seeker-friendly churches….

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¹ Here, I’ll leave the ill-begotten “seeker-targeted” and “seeker-oriented” labels alone.  ”Seeker-sensitive” can certainly be a good thing, but church gatherings are for the church, after all, not for the seekers.  Orienting “church” to seekers is counter-rational by definition.  Other methods and events might well be considered for drawing in seekers.

² It’s been a long time since I harped on misplaced apostrophes.  See this post for some fun.  Just this morning, I read this “quote” of Acts 9:16 in an e-gram from a highly educated, respected editor/theologian:  “I will show him how many things he must suffer for My names’ sake.”  Now don’t go gettin’ all Christian-markety on me and say that God has many names.  He really only has one.  Anyway, I don’t think the other identifers/descriptors of God were in the picture there in Acts.  It should have read, “I will show him how many things he must suffer for My name’s’ sake.”

³ It’s also been too long since I used footnotes in a blogpost.  I once asked, in a physically posted print, whether anyone read my footnotes, and Randall responded, “I read your footnotes,” but he may be in a small crowd.  :-)

(Ir)reverence, maturation, and heaven

Some weeks ago, while driving, my young son asked about heaven.  With the advice of a book on nurturing faith in children echoing in my head, I more or less steered the conversation away from heaven — a concept probably too deep and too advanced for him, at present.  But before I diverted his attention, a memory or two had surfaced.  I doubt anyone is singing this “camp song” anymore, but it’s still in my head:

Heaven is a wonderful place, filled with glory and grace.
I want to see my Savior’s face.  Heaven is a wonderful place.  

That’s about all there was to it, I think.  The guys had a quasi-doo-wop bass line, and the girls’ melody at “I want to see my Savior’s face” had a matching ascending line.   At the end of a rep, the guys would sing “wanna go there” on sol-la-ti, just before the next go-round.  A bit irreverent in style, it seems to me, but there are worse things than bad style matches, and the longing to see Jesus in heaven is a good thing to sing about.

Another heaven song I learned later, as a teen, was even simpler in terms of text, but strikes me as more reverent, stylistically speaking:

Soprano:  Someday … someday … someday … someday. . . .
Alto and bass:  Peace and joy and happiness; no more sorrow; someday . . . .
Tenor:  Gotta be ready when He calls my name! (3x)  Someday. . . .

I’m still drawn to that kind of mood — a mood created by believers as they sincerely long for the end-times when we will be conscious of nothing else but God and the eternal “place” prepared.  And I’m concerned that Jedd grow up with ample spiritually vibrant experiences that lead him toward such reverent faith.

In related memories with less apparent reverence . . . I suppose I didn’t die spiritually from hearing others add the childish “king-ki-dink,” like a rhythmic ta-da, at the end of the chorus of that ridiculous arky-arky song . . . or from asking God to “give me gas for my Ford.”  I suppose my child will also be able to avoid immune system shutdowns when he hears silly music attached to deep concepts of the Lord.  Still, I will try to steer him clear of “Father Abraham” and the like!

In the meantime, I’m OK with Jedd’s periodic questions about eventually being “up with God in heaven.”  Even though “up” is not exactly how I think of heaven’s “location,”  in the 1st century, hoi ouranoi seems to have meant “skies” as well as a more spiritual “heaven.”  It’s probably just fine that Jedd has this childlish, elevated, “other” concept of heaven at this point.  God, keep developing His precious soul.

Experienced in large churches

Some aspects of church gatherings are related to the group’s size.

Pacing.  As a musician, I notice musical elements pretty much wherever I am.  The tempos of worship and prayer songs stood out to me recently:  when songs are sung 30-50% too slowly, the music’s character seems lifeless; the mood may be compromised, if not the intended effect.  In large a cappella churches, at least, tempos almost always end up too slow, because it’s really difficult to move a mammoth.  Other  activities may also be on the slow side, too, but mostly, I think it’s the corporately active ones — namely, singing.

lgchurch

Where are you now?  When someone visits a large church with which there have been past associations, there are some notable, if common, experiences.  Recently, for instance, several people have asked me, “So, where are you now?”  This simple question comes out of historical relationship and also grows out of the one side’s dizziness at all the folks who return to their big-church sanctuaries/auditoriums at one time or another.

The relational reconnectings have their charm, and they do point up some good aspects of Christianity, horizontally speaking. However, speaking as one who returns to roots, not as one who generally stays close to the tree, I tend to be distracted by the prospect of recognizing, and being recognized by, old friends — to the point of hardly being able to concentrate on the person I’ve already found — because my glances are always darting around for the next person!  For me, this is one of the hazards of visiting in a large church where people return, seasonally, for this or that reason.

Ushering.  Another occurrence in a large church is ushering.  Now, there are many good people in churches serving as ushers. Periodically, some handicapped folks do need help getting in and out of the building, and in overflow situations, the usher is the guy who coaxes the latecomers to the front, where seats are still available.  For me, though, the ushering enterprise represents officialness and big business.  Instead of facilitating seating and such, for edification and worship, the usher makes me think I’m in a corporate meeting, subject to official protocols.

Attendance counts.  Ushering and the “So, where are you now?” question both have their redeeming qualities.  In my estimation, worse than either of the above is counting.  Hovering and scanning the pews while the assembly is in progress, counting people in the pews, for the sake of the corporate records, has long been a bother for me.  I don’t complete attendance cards of any sort, whether I’m a visitor or a regular.  I figure, my need not to be a cog in a corporate-church wheel eclipses any real need the church has to know that one more person was present and accounted for.

Call me a curmudgeon for feeling this way, but I can’t conscientiously support the concern of church officials over numbers, amounts, and surface-level trends.  These are not what church is to be about.

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Addendum:  after this blog was posted, I recalled something else I’ve noticed.  In a large church, there seems sometimes to be an undue emphasis on the “lineup”  of public leaders.

  1. Pete Peterson will have our song service.  (All but the name is verbatim here.  What is it to “have” a song service?  And what is a “song service”?  What odd lingo….)
  2. Our first prayer will be by John Johnson.
  3. Our scripture will be read by Thor Thorson.
  4. Our prayer before the sermon will be by Jack Jackson.
  5. And our sermon will be by Evangelist Joseph Josephson.
  6. Our announcements were by yours truly (is this the player/coach?), Rich Richardson.

And I ask you these questions:

  • For those present who didn’t know every person in the lineup already, did they really care?
  • For those present who did know, did they need to hear the names?  Why?  So they could say, “Oh, good.  I love it with Brother Jackson leads prayer” — focusing on the leader and not the throne of God?  Or maybe so they could say, “Oh, shoot.  That Brother Thorson always stumbles.  Why do they get him to read?”  And that begs another question, but I’ll save that for another time.

Worship: spiritual, timeless, chosen

[The following is excerpted, adapted, and expanded from my reply to a reader's comment on this prior post.]

Generally, under the New Covenant, I see the trends as having moved away from the physical, toward the spiritual.  (For more, please see this post on the Old and new.)  I tend to support and resonate with emphases on the spiritual over the physical.

In the realm of worship, I did go through a phase, some years ago, in which worship needed to be more physical, but I’m not altogether sure my “need” was of the Lord.  These days, I’m more interested in what’s going on beyond the physical.  Physical manifestations of worship may not be entirely immaterial, but the seen should at least be subservient to the unseen.

Under the Old Covenant, God prescribed certain physical acts of sacrifice and priestly temple service.  Although prescribed details — or legislated specifications, if you will — are certainly present in any lucid consideration of the relationship between the divine and the human, I take some exception to an analysis based outright on prescription (either under the Old or New).  As one considers Joseph, Enoch, Abraham, David, Elijah, and others with hindsight, there seems to have been more than legislation at work as they related to God.

Based on the examples of worship in, e.g., Psalms, John, Revelation, I take stronger exception to any suggestion that all worship, as an act of the spirit and/or body, was somehow eradicated with the coming of Jesus.  The worship of believers in Jesus Christ, like immersion and basic meals and the assembly of Christians, seems to me to have been something they simply, naturally did (a lot), without the need for the apostles et al to write about it at every turn.

awesomegod

Adoring, worshipful response is natural — and, I would say, anticipated and desired and right. (Personally, I’d stop short of saying worship is “commanded” or “demanded”; I hear those words as needlessly negatively charged in this age.)  I do think God continues to seek worship of the proskuneo sort.  Note Ps 69:32, Ps 70:4, and 2 Chron 16:9.  While the “seeking” of the last verse may be understood variously, as seen in various translations, attributing to God the notion of “seeking” doesn’t for me render Him heavy-handed.  I don’t think we paint God as some sort of tyrant or egomaniacal being when we understand Him as desiring worshipful response.

Until He moves me on, I’m content with exploring the ways and means of proskuneo — because it seems good for me, and because I’m convinced it pleases God.  Worship may ultimately be pleasing to Him specifically because it is something I choose, whether I want to think of Him as asking for it or not.

Probably not merely incidentally, I take Revelation (after chapters 2 & 3) as primarily presenting a timeless picture of the eternal kingdom, and I hang some of my worship “hats” on the hooks shown in chapters 4, 5, and 19:6ff. I presume that the active proskuneo occurring there indicates that worship is a timeless assumption for the believing community.

In the meantime, I’m not at all content with my efforts or with the corporate worship I experience most often (yesterday’s prayers seemed either presentational or flaccid, and the songs rather lethargic and uncommitted) . . . but I keep trying to worship, as I believe I will eternally.

Worship: affirmation or action?

Living, glorifying, worshipping        Vertical/horizontal redux

After reading the above recent posts on worship, John, a reader from Texas, wrote, in part:

Jesus himself identifies the worship which God desires from us.  And in identifying it he contrasts it with the worship which the woman had in mind when she asked him to tell her the proper place to perform it.  . . .

Jesus . . .  stated that the time was coming, and now was, when true worship would not be performed in either of those locations but would be done in spirit and in truth.  In spirit and in truth is in contrast with the worship the woman inquired about.  The truth part rested in the nature of the sacrifice contrasted with the shadow of the truth that was represented in the woman’s worship, and also in that performed in Jerusalem.  Various animals were sacrificed. . . .  Jesus himself was the truth that those animals only represented.  The worship the woman asked about was performed by humans’ physical acts of slaying the animals and then performing the required work on them.  The worship God desired and still desires, is not physical but is spiritual.  It was done for us, by Jesus, and all we can do is accept it as being full recompense for our own sins.  The worship God desires has nothing to do with our actions.  It is not in some mysterious way related to the way we treat others or how we live daily.  It is spiritually accepting Jesus’ redeeming work as being imputed to us in place of our own soiled righteouness.

In response, I would again state up-front that a general misconception of worship has done inestimable damage to the theologies and belief systems of countless believers.  This misconception has worship a) consisting in a sequenced event/”service” and b) existing solely within the confines of a church edifice.  Worship is primarily a verb, not a noun that we go to, or sit through, waiting for others do it for us.  It is quite possible to go/attend “services” for decades without ever truly worshipping.

Certainly, I track with John (quoted above) on the radical difference Jesus was ushering in.  Yes, the location-bound model was to be eradicated:  ”in spirit” stands in contrast to “in a specific location,” i.e., Jerusalem.  But why would the “truth” aspect be encapsulated in a faith-acceptance of Jesus’ sacrifice when that acceptance doesn’t involve proskuneo?  I think it is more logical to assume that “in truth” = “truly.”  In other words, worship “in truth” is not something else done or felt “in truth,” but it is still worship, with one new emphasis on genuineness or  actuality.  Truly worshipping, then, would be the same as actually worshipping.  Put yet another way:  in John 4, Jesus did not say, “No longer will the Father want worship” or “Instead of worship, the Father will now want _____.”  Rather, He said, “The Father desires worship in new/renewed ways.”

So what is this worship?  The antecedent word is “proskuneo,” and proskuneo connotes action, or at least action of the spirit (the latter may be more preferable to some, for reasons of personality preference, or for reasons of distinction from Jewish practice) in relation to God.  Bringing the theologically charged word “work” into this discussion by calling attention to “work performed” on the animals seems tenuous, but it is appropriate to draw some distinctions been New-Covenant worship and that of the Old.  Under both major covenants, though, worship is an active-verb thing that appears more closely related to adoration and homage than to mentally/spiritually affirming the Ultimate Sacrifice.

By no means do I intend here to minimize the value of the inner faith-response to our Messiah’s Sacrifice — far from it.  It could very well be that one who is spiritually affirming Jesus’ death as the finished, atoning work of God is, in fact, engaging in proskuneo of the spirit.  In other words, the vibrant human spirit in tune with God’s grace is probably energetically worshipping spiritually whether she thinks she is or not.

Here’s an additional, larger-context thought — something I learned from a deeply committed disciple who also happens to have a doctorate in missiology.  (If I had read more of John’s gospel in large chunks, i.e., more contextually, I could have picked up on this myself, because it’s not embedded very deep.  The above-quoted friend John has also alluded to it.)  Simply put, it is that, in John’s gospel, Jesus is truth.  So, worship “in truth” (John 4:24) might be, to some extent, worship “in the truth that is personified in Jesus.”  This would still seem to speak of an action, not merely a mental or spiritual acknowledgement of Jesus’ sacrifice.

Our worship — our proskuneo — could be said to be made more full, more intimate, more relationally meaningful because of the grace and truth expressed in Jesus and the New Covenant.

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Addendum:  If I might go out on a limb here … I don’t think the worship “baby” should be thrown out with the time-clock-punching, “accuracy”-driven “worship service” bathwater of the CofC (or of any similar group).  Some of us, myself included, may be inclined toward framing worship in terms of a response to information – which would seem Campbellite (rational) in orientation.  But just because certain church groups have been incorrectly handling aspects (when they thought they had “right” worship down pat) doesn’t mean that anyone, as s/he is evolving, should shed the essence of worship.  It just means we keep trying to enact the core idea, without all the shadowy stuff from the intervening decades/centuries.

Living, glorifying, worshipping

In reference to this post on the distinction between “vertical” and “horizontal,” a longtime friend and reader wrote,

Perhaps the concept that we “go to worship” is a part of the problem.  Our life is to be “worship.”  “So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.” I Cor. 10:31.  Those who leave “worship” in the building and go about as though God is not their Father … well, yes, as some people say, “That is between God and me.”  That’s really The Problem — not willing to surrender to God, but lay out the guidelines according to what they want.  God will have something final to say about that.

My friend’s emphasis here — that our lives should be lived for God – is right on.  And I would agree that the conception of worship as A) a sequenced event/”service” B) in a church edifice has done inestimable damage to the theologies and belief systems of countless believers.  Worship is primarily a verb, not a noun that we go to, or sit through, as others do it for us.  We can go to the assembly for a lifetime of Sundays — and I do believe heartily in assemblies of Christians — but, sadly, it is quite possible to go/attend for decades without ever truly worshipping.

Being a disciple of Jesus — and living seven days a week for the purposes of God’s Kingdom — now that’s what it’s about.  I generally reserve the term “worship” for vertical communication with God, wherever it occurs.   But being an ambassador for God and seeking to live each hour as His child, bringing attention and glory to Him — that deserves just as much attention as vertical adoration and reverence (“worship” proper).

MWM: special songs

[This is an installment in the Monday Worship Music series.  Find other, related posts through this link.]

A couple nights ago, we sang a few special songs with a group of friends:

  • Jesus, Wonderful Thou Art (in which we worshipped the eternal Son)
  • Into My Heart (in which we invited Him within)
  • Be Still, My Soul (in which we expressed our trust)
  • It May Be at Morn (in which we longed for the parousia)
  • Lord, Speak To Me (in which we prayed for the Lord Jesus to fill us until we overflow, so that we tell his love)

And I ask you:  aren’t these all special songs?  In a real sense, every song in a Christian gathering should be special music.  Why sing a song unless it is special?

Many churches have developed a lingo that separates the solo song from the rest of the musical worship material.  Bulletins may list “Special Music” during or just after the offering.   “Who’s singing the special today?” is heard by many involved officially in musical leadership/offering.  If one isn’t careful, she could begin to think that “special music” should be more attended to than congregational music.

The “special music” lingo does indicate a good thing — congregationally oriented music as the norm.  Even as musical literacy in churches declines rapidly, it is good for churches small and large to continue to “major” in the large-group mode of worship.  It is engaging, fulfilling, and God-intended.

And wherever professional musicians call the shots, it would be good for a greater number of believers to show how energized they can be in lifting up voices from the pews (or theater seats, or whatever), as we did again yesterday morning:

This the pow’r of the cross
Christ became sin for us
Took the blame bore the wrath
We stand forgiven at the cross

W&M by Keith Getty and Stuart Townend
© 2005 ThankYou Music

Long live the singing of Christians.  Whenever two or three are gathered. . . .

Vertical/horizontal redux

Yesterday’s guest post clearly identified two “umbrella” aspects of the Christian Assembly.  The “vertical” is the worship, while the “horizontal” aspect consists not in God-oriented worship but in people-oriented activity.  

↑↔

This essential delineation seems so clear, so true … and yet elusive for so many.  Check out this excerpt from an article by a recognized religionist/theologian in Worship Leader magazine:

Our worship should have a diaconal concern, a ministry to the sick, the poor, and the suffering (Acts 6:4).  It should have a teaching ministry for children, and the teaching ministry for mature theologians.  - Hughes Oliphant Old

Dr. Old speaks of good things, of worthy things.  He’s right to speak of serving, or “diaconal” work, fleshing out engagement with those with special needs.  He’s also right to point to Acts 6 as a kind of charter for some of this activity.

But he is not right in assuming those things fall in the category of “worship,” and he may, like so many others, have a concept that everything that occurs during the announced Sunday morning hour constitutes worship.  (No, it does not, and it should not.)  I am led again to believe that one reason for confusion in various spheres has to do with institutional investment in the status quo.   If we didn’t have such institutional needs to have our various programs, we might just understand that worship is worship, and service is service, and the two are distinct.

The breaking of bread, that is, the celebration of holy communion, should be a regular part of our worship (Acts 2:42).  - H.O.O.

Dr. Old is on target in encouraging communion/the Lord’s Supper, although not as thoroughly accurate with his proof-text use.  The “breaking of bread” in Acts appears to have little connection with what we think of as communion today; the expression “breaking bread” appears to have been related to basic table “fellowship” at a meal.

Now, if we go the whole distance and realize that the Jesus-memorial of “communion” was not originally an official, church-program ceremony but probably was more often a part of table fellowship, well, then, we’re onto something again in terms of worship.  It is highly advisable to remember the Lord’s sacrifice while fleshing out some of its implications in the second “body” — those siblings who are with you around the table.  Communion can function as a bidirectional aspect of the Christian gathering:  it is at once vertically and horizontally oriented.

Getting Up (guest post)

Getting Up
by H. Arnett (October 2008)

There is no question that one of the key purposes of Christian assembly is to exhort, encourage and admonish one another.  Some have called this the “horizontal” element of worship.  I rather prefer to think of it as the edification element of church, the aspect that focuses on lifting up the  discouraged, rebuking the erring, and comforting the grieving — and all of us stirring one another up to good works.  All important and key aspects of a good gathering.

I prefer to think of “worship” proper as being vertical in nature.  Singing about how good God has been to me and how important it is that we work for the night is coming seems less suited to that particular function than to the other one.   In a certain way of looking at things, there are some songs and hymns that seem to adore how much I love God more than they adore God.   It’s not that I’m opposed to reminding others how filled I am with love and faith and hope and maybe even how incredibly spiritual we all are.  It just seems to miss the greater goal a bit.  For the worship role, I go with singing about how good God is, how matchless and incredible are His attributes, how infinite His mercy and grace, how incomparable the love He has shown us in Christ Jesus, how exalted He is because of Who He is.

To be sure, any gathering of good people in doing a good thing is right likely a good experience.  But if I would leave the place filled and flowing, nothing else so enriches as genuine worship and exaltation.  I find that when I empty my heart and mind of me and my petty concerns and devote my every energy to glorifying the Father, Son and Spirit, there is a cleansing and filling.  It is in that very thing that I find the grand paradox of genuine worship:  the less I focus on me, the more good I receive.   When I adore Him who is my Savior, I am renewed.

“Doc” Arnett (as most others call him) put it well, wouldn’t you say?  The delineation of worship and edification (or vertical and horizontal) is one I affirm completely.  I suspect that Arnett’s reluctance to call edification/encouragement stuff “the horizontal element of worship” is because it’s not worship (not because it’s not horizontal).  This suspicion on my part is born out in the 1st sentence in his 2nd paragraph –  in which he clarifies with the expression “worship proper.”

It is for certain:  when we “get up” and “vertically” adore — and particularly when we address God directly more than sing about Him — we are built up and renewed.

~ ~ ~

For more on the delineation of worship and service, try these additional posts:


http://blcasey.wordpress.com/2012/11/22/proskuneo-and-latreian-4/


http://blcasey.wordpress.com/2012/11/16/proskuneo-and-latreian-3/


http://blcasey.wordpress.com/2012/11/12/proskuneo/

For more from H. “Doc” Arnett, go to his blog at 
http://docarnett.wordpress.com/
.

Twelve for 2012 (2)

[ ... continued from here]

Inherently, the modus operandi of quasi-prophetic, interrogatory verbalization runs counter to long-practiced norms — and to a good many beliefs tenaciously held by the masses.  For this disequilibrious endeavor I will make no apology, but if I ever seem to be fighting the individual’s independent, sincere pursuit of Almighty God and His eternal kingdom, I sit ready to be corrected.

In my last post, I listed an initial, six things I would do in, to, and for the earthly, western church of the 21st century, if I had the ability.  These had to do with sects and structures, the clergy role, and scriptural moorings.  The ramifications of some of these items are broad, and I’m fully aware of the audacity of some of them.  In order to be clear about my human fallibility, I am presenting my list of twelve items in half-twelve lists of six, the “number of man.”  The total number — a nice, round, “biblical” one — has more reference to the current calendar year than to biblical completion:  here, although I touch on several matters I consider crucial, I make no claim to being exhaustive.

Below, then, is the second group of six things I would do in, to, and for the earthly, western church, if I had the ability.  These six concern (1-2) relational dynamics, (3-4) concepts of worship and of the Christian gathering, and (5-6) understandings of beginnings and continuations.

  1. create small groups and other home gatherings where they do not already exist
  2. inject a more apt understanding of the assembly (for starters, not thinking of it as a “service”)
  3. infuse a deeper understanding of the nature and extents of worship — neither a) considering it to be singing or as confined to a musical style preference (e.g., so-called “worship music”), nor b) superimposing liturgical notions of “service,” thus obscuring worship
  4. balance reverence with familial informality — establishing a patently respectful, informal (although not a casual) approach to worship and other church activities
  5. cause an acceptance of the biblical place of the believer’s immersion in clothing oneself with Jesus as Savior — thus identifying fully with His death, burial, and resurrection (as a result, eradicating residual trust in such items as infant sprinkling, the incantational “sinner’s prayer,” and institutional church affiliation)
  6. instill a solid, long-lasting, far-reaching concept and practice of discipleship, as opposed to false security in hereditary church “membership”

Not all the twelve items (the ones above, plus the last six) are of equal importance, but they are all important to me.  They don’t represent the gamut of need within Christendom; there are other areas that need attention, as well.  I don’t claim to be all that circumspect or insightful — only ardent for pure Christianity where I find its current iteration tainted.

While the list of twelve items may contract or expand with the passing years, I have given these enough thought, through enough time, that I expect them to remain with me, to some extent, until I die — or until the Son returns to claim His own.  I do not believe m/any of the items will ever come to pass, in any appreciable measure.  In the circles in which I have influence, however, God giving me life and influence, I am resolved to encourage the absorption of these and other aspects of biblically well-founded Christianity.

Twelve for 2012 (1)

Caveat lector:  Despite my deep-and-wide-spreading neo-protestant roots, I don’t want to be a tree made of hard wood that never sways with the refreshing breezes of God’s Spirit.

I do intentionally strike a posture of challenge toward any nominally Christian element that seems not to emanate from scripture.  Plus, I’m relatively comfortable with speaking sincerely, earnestly, even prophetically (although NOT miraculously so! – I claim no special revelation, only attentiveness to the witness of God’s inspired spokesmen of old) for God and for pure Christianity.

The M.O. of quasi-prophetic, interrogatory speech necessarily counters long-practiced norms, and a good many beliefs tenaciously held by the masses.  [To friends and acquaintances who tolerate and/or love me anyway most of the time:  is this introductory elaboration helping to illuminate?]  I make no apology for speaking against cults, various human hierarchies, and merely tradition-based denominational tenets, but if I ever seem to be battling the individual’s sincere, independent pursuit of Almighty God and His kingdom, I stand ready to be corrected.

Several months ago, I was led to think anew about the tone of some of my blogposts—thus the verbal groundwork laid above.  I had actually started this piece before the beginning of 2012 but was unsure about it.  I’m still unsure about the thrust of a few items.  Although some question remains about certain extents, my reluctance stems more from insecurity over the reception of what I’ll be saying.

We’re now almost finished with 2012.  Although originally planned for 1/1/12, this post is now scheduled to be broadcast at 12:12 on 12/12/12.  Nice number, huh?  The ramifications of some of the items below are surely broad, and I don’t present them, deluded, as “gospel.”  I’m fully aware of the audacity of some of them.  In order to frame them clearly as humanly fallible, I’ll now present these items in half-twelve lists of six, the “number of man.”

I would like to present these somewhat incendiary thoughts with a special invitation for feedback.  Responses I receive may be used in, or as, follow-up posts, so if you write privately, please confirm whether you want to remain anonymous if quoted.  Perhaps we can have some valuable discussions—whether openly on the blog or on the backchannels.

Here, then, are the first six things I would do in, to, and for the earthly, western church of the 21st century, if I had the ability.

If I could, I would

  1. instantiate exegetical Bible study methods into every Christian church
  2. morph sermons, with their “points” and jokes and poems, into studies with scriptural exegesis at their core
  3. abolish the “pastor/minister” role altogether — this role (not to mention its attendant hierarchies) is an unknown entity in New Testament writings, and although many of these individuals clearly do good in our day, the harm inherent in the position and its ramifications is not insignificant; perpetuation of the institution is contra-indicated, although many of the persons currently in such positions could serve well in other roles
  4. inculcate the principle of the Bible as “the only rule for faith and practice” — and this would necessitate a) ridding ourselves of superimposed creeds and “faith statements,” and b) abandoning residual loyalties to articulate, more or less charismatic non-specially-inspired personages, whether past or present
  5. eradicate all traces of denominational pride and loyalty (if not all evidence of denominations, period)
  6. sell most of the church buildings in the country, leaving only the ones used several days a week for Kingdom business and neighborhood service

To be continued . . . my next post will list the remaining six items. . . .

Singular allegiance

It is inappropriate, in a Christian assembly, to sing the praises of military sacrifice and of American freedoms.  It is inappropriate on Veterans Day and on every other day of the year.

Among the reasons for gathering as Christian believers is to remember and honor the sacrifice of Jesus, the Messiah.  His ultimate sacrifice is the one that merits attention.  No one else’s matters, in comparison.  Today, though, the precious communion of the saints, in at least one place, was severed by thoughtless, even blasphemous comparison to the Lord Jesus’ atoning death.

Many things have upset me during Christian assemblies in my years on this planet.  Most Sundays in my adult life, in fact, something said or done has run contrary to what I find supported by scripture and/or logic.  In other words, many matters have displeased or upset me, but I can’t recall any that have aroused my ire like this one today.  I guess it caught me off guard, but there was no way I could stay in this assembly in which we were a) exhorted to honor the sacrifice of our veterans and b) treated to a prayer that thanks God for the same.  This thinking has no verbalized place in church gatherings at all — and certainly not in prayer to the Almighty God who is above every political entity.

I am indignant at the lack of discernment.  So many souls move blithely through American life, with their thinking all askew, assuming that

Christian = Republican = Militarily Involved/Supportive

No.  Not at all.

While I would typically sleep on a topic that fires me up, not so today.  Long after the emotion has subsided, the scruples, which are well founded, will remain.  (Read about the core of the good news in 1Cor 15.  Read about the death of Jesus toward the end of Mark 9 and 10 and tell me a military death, no matter how sacrificial or gruesome or untimely, has anything to do with the death of the Lord.  Read about identifying with Jesus’ death in Romans 6.  And read 2 Tim 2:4 and tell me what the “army” is — for the soldier of whom Paul writes, metaphorically.)

Different opinions on matters such as this may coexist.  Coexistence must not lead to the public preaching of one side “in church,” however.  It does not maintain the Spirit’s unity to force one set of unsupported opinions on the entire congregation.  Wisdom ought to realize that obvious displays of American patriotism are not only inappropriate, but they have the potential to be divisive.  To call attention, during a Christian Assembly, to the giving of life for a political or military cause is as heartbreaking as it is shocking.

Universal church, you should strike Veterans Day and Memorial Day from the internal church calendars.  (Until the day of fruition, though, I will need to watch the calendar more closely for my family, so we can avoid pretty much all U.S. churches on these days.)

The rest of the country may fly its flags and honor veterans, and that is to be expected.  It doesn’t bother me in the slightest for a private American citizen to have a flag flying or a yellow ribbon tied, or for an American Walmart to have a veterans’ organization doing a fundraiser out in front.  But not the church — not the group that is called out of this world.  Oh, and lest we forget, not all of the world is American.

As Christians who are also American citizens secondarily, we must pledge allegiance only to the Lamb.

An individual I once worked with briefly, and whom I have grown to respect, once said this:

I grew weary long ago of those who love usurping God-time with praise for their country and the illusion of this world’s freedoms. I think they insult both God and country: God by taking away from His worship and country because they don’t want the inconvenience of having to schedule separate time to honor their country. “Isn’t it so much simpler since we’re all here together anyway to just go ahead and celebrate our nation?”

People who are so fond of praising and serving “God and country” do not comprehend that our God is a jealous God.  – Harold Arnett

MWM: loving the opportunity

Following a singularly unusual Sunday in which there was no worship in my heart or experience (owing to travel and sickness), I retreat to a book for inspiration to pass along:

Father in heaven, teach us to love to assemble with our fellow  Christians;
And when we assemble, may we not lose ourselves in the crowd,
But may we lose ourselves in Thee and help others to do so.
Help us, too, O Lord, to feed our souls at Thy spiritual table
More often than we feed our bodies with the daily bread which Thou dost provide.
And O Thou God of power and of passionate concern for all mankind,
Give us fellowship with Thy concerned servants,
And the peace and victory made possible when we join with them in adoration of Thee.

- Andy T. Ritchie, Jr. (my grandfather), Thou Shalt Worship the Lord Thy God (1969), p. 42

The beginnings of communion

Mark was moving expeditiously, gracefully down the aisle, doing that tray-passing thing many church “servers” (men only, of course — see the end of this post on that point) do.  During communion, you know, it’s supposed to be efficient and “decently and in order” and quiet.

As Mark neared our row to hand us the tray of “bread,” my 3-year-old son — very quietly, because he is a good boy — waved at Mark.

And Mark waved back.  (And I was so glad he did, rather than fearing any propriety police who might be glancing his way, presuming he should be more staid and “proper.”)

Communion is, after all, multi-directional.  Communing with one another is included as we commune with Deity.  As our son comes to understand this special thing we do in Christian gatherings, it seems to me that a relational, smiling reach from person to person is appropriate and even exemplary.