Digging in: John 9 (1000)

[This is public blogpost #1000.  In this post, I'm going to attempt to merge concisely some very significant areas--exegesis, religious challenge and reform, and worship.  And then I'm going to take somewhat of a break.  This is a longish blog, but I hope you'll take the time, because there won't be any more blogs coming from me anytime soon!]

Digging In:   John 9

One of the Marvelous Happenings in the Life of Jesus

Exegetical Interpretation, Focusing on Christian Challenge/Reform and Worship
With a Timely, Eulogistic Postscript

John 9 has long been a favorite chapter, and it’s not because I memorized it as a child or because it was read at a family funeral.  This chapter is of deep impact on me because the story highlights Jesus in a way that simply won’t let me go.

While it would have been nice, I suppose, to have a true essay worked out, I would need more time for that, “living with” the text for a period of weeks or even months.  I trust that it will be beneficial to see the process of asking questions of the text, not only the reaching of conclusions.

Method  Ideally, I would start with two or more readings of the entire gospel, in different versions — perhaps one with more of a sentence-for-sentence orientation, and another, more of an expansive paraphrase.   Initially, my method was simple:  to read/refresh myself on the whole of chapter 9, and jotting questions I had while reading.  The “first pass” through chapter 9 resulted in the need for a second pass.  Within about an hour and a half total, I had approximately two pages of notes/questions.  (An irresistible 3rd pass is yielding almost as many additional questions and brought tears to my eyes, but the new material will have to wait.)  For sake of brevity — ha! — I am selecting only a portion of these questions to blogshare (to coin a term).

Book-level questions

Bypassing for the moment the typical, academic, background questions that are important but are more stock-in-trade (author, date and place of writing, audience, etc.), I ask such things as these, from a perspective that is mostly “zoomed out” on the entire gospel of John:

• What special features can be found in John’s vocabulary and literary style?
• Within the whole gospel, does chapter 9 constitute a bona fide pericope?  Does John use pericopes as, say, Matthew does?
• What is the relationship of blindness and sin for John?
• How does God the Father relate to Jesus in the narrative?  Is Jesus called “Son of Man” earlier? later? throughout? often?
• How does John’s stated purpose (20:30-31) relate, or not, to key aspects found in this passage, such as spiritual blindness, sin, coming to faith, and worship?  How might belief in 9:35-36 be tied to the overall, stated purpose?

Smaller-context questions

Now zooming in more to the immediate context:

• Where are we in the progression of John’s narrative when we reach the events of chapter 9?  What occurs immediately before, and immediately after?  (The answer to these questions may be singularly significant.)
• Check 9:1-2 for chiastic structure.  (Note the three mentions of blindness.)
• Note the various portrayals in this chapter:  disciples, Jews, neighbors, Pharisees, and the man.  (Larger question:  how is each group painted in John overall, as compared to Mark?)
• What is the relationship of blindness and sin for each of the above people/groups?
• Could there be a larger inclusio from 9:1-34 (“the Jews’” idea of sin as bookends)?
• Note the relationship between eyesight and light and works, as in verse 4.
• Is “Siloam” Aramaic?  Translation relationship to Greek “apostle”?  Any significance to be found in Jewish background there — either with the Siloam pool or with the use of the word in OT texts?  What is John saying by inserting the definition of the word?
• Chiasm in 9:13-16 vicinity (Pharisees, had been blind, Jesus, mud ==> Sabbath, Pharisees <== mud, Jesus, see, Pharisees/Sabbath). Yes? Investigate.
• Examine the use of “disciples” in 9:27-28 vs. its use in John overall.
• How does the Father God figure in to this story?
  • What do “the Jews” and the Pharisees think of Him?  How do they “use” Him? (vv. 16, 24, 29)
  • What does the blind man think of Him?  (9:31, 33)
  • What could be made out of the fact that Jesus mentions God early in the story but not later?
• Hermeneutically speaking, are questions (such as the above group) significant from both John’s and the first readers’ points of view?  Does John show any bias or agenda that his first-century readers would naturally share, or naturally be resistant to?  How is God potentially working through John to say what needs to be said?  And how do these answers affect my own point of view?
• What is the significance of the label “Son of Man” in this particular text?  (It seems significant for John in the ultimate responsiveness of the [formerly] blind man.)  (9:35)
• There appears to be a mirroring mini-chiasm in 9:39:  blind ==> see; see <== blind?  Do “judgment” and “guilt” complete this mini-structure?
• Note some striking, possibly unusual, recurring, or significant vocabulary words and phrases in NASB:  blind, works of God, displayed, Light of the world, spit, seeing, eyes opened/opened my eyes (vv. 10, 13, 17, 30, 32), mud, miraculous signs, prophet, put out of the synagogue, “give glory to God,” disciples.

Musings  Some musings and commentary stem from these types of questions!

I.  In terms of challenge to the status quo and religious power structures … it seems to me that there are battles presented in this chapter — a battle of people and cliques, a battle of systems, and ultimately, a battle of and for the Kingdom.  Clearly, the Jews and the Pharisees are the “conservatives” here, resisting challenge and change — while the simple facts of the blind man’s story necessitate, on the other hand, that traditional viewpoints are challenged.

Although the connection of blindness and sin might be an easy target for preachers of sermons, one should not dive into a topical sermon that uses a snippet of John 9 without first knowing a good deal about the context(s) here.  We could not, in other words, legitimately draw any conclusions about the equation of spiritual blindness and sin without knowing more of how John the inspired writer uses and develops those ideas (or doesn’t) within the literary context.  Just as significant would be some cultural insights — related, for example, to blindness, begging, synagogue norms, Pharisees, and more.  This area, like so many others, requires more investigation.

It has long seemed to me that the parents in this story are presented as weak and sniveling.  (Textual clues gained in further investigation could bolster or counter this impression.)  Out of fear, they deflect attention and responsibility.  On the other hand, the “Pharisees” and “Jews” groups are not “weak,” but they are in some sense blind and foolish.  Note, for example, that they pronounce a cloudy half-truth regarding Jesus and the Sabbath in v. 16, and they resort to name-calling in v. 34.  The Jews in power are more interested in protecting their system than in avowing the obvious wonder that has just occurred at the hands of Jesus.  From their standpoint, 1) Jesus is a threat, and 2) the now-seeing man — although formerly negligible — may now be a threat, too.

Something that struck me 25 years ago, and still strikes me today (and here, I hope I’m not just coddling my earlier reading) is this:  the Pharisees could not even see, much less accept, the God-glorifying miracle that had obviously occurred because they were too invested in protecting their empire.  John presents unadorned facts in v. 7 (that the man “returned seeing”) and in v. 9 (that he kept saying “I am the one”).  Waxing prophetic, I would assert that the implications of the Pharisees’ stubbornness here are momentous for institutional Christendom, and for various cliques and sects.  Could the Pharisees legitimately be seen to represent some of the entrenched “clergy” of later eras?  The implicit warning echoes through the centuries:  Watch out that you’re not building your own structures, and pay attention to the work of God, or else you may be found blindly rejecting Him.

In contrast to the Pharisees and the parents stands the blind man.  I would imagine that a Jewish person reading or hearing John’s gospel would find intense irony here:  the blind man appears as largely a positive example, although he would previously have been a worthless drain on society — a mere opportunity to be seen giving alms!  Initially, the man is trusting and obedient.  He also makes an ostensibly false assumption:  that “God does not hear sinners.”  No, he doesn’t quite “get” everything about Jesus yet (no one could), but he is open, and he is coming to faith.  (Who wouldn’t be experiencing new things after having been given sight?!)  Not only can he see the ground in front of him for the first time in his life, but he is beginning to see who and what Jesus is.  An encouraging message surfaces:  that one can travel the road of discipleship, progressively coming to see more truth.

II. In terms of worship … the response seems so beautifully unfeigned and unaffected — the man simply worships, when confronted with the truths that Jesus is 1) from God and 2) able to work miracles.  (Let alone, for now, the question of the meaning of “Son of Man.”)  The antecedent worship word here is proskuneo, which

• is not inherently a “religious” thing to do
• means “kissing toward” as an act of homage, and implies bowing down
• has nothing directly to do with so-called whole-life worship
• is rather the simple act of response — by one who recognizes greatness far beyond oneself

Letting alone the so-called worship wars of our times, and jettisoning any historical connections related to liturgy/”services,” or checking off items on a list on Sunday mornings, or any other corruptions of biblical worship ideals, we see worship, pure and simple, in this text.  We see that an unconstrained person, when he observes the reality of Jesus, worships.

And that is a beautiful precedent that both instructs and compels.  Lord, may we.

~ ~ ~

Postscript

It worked out to honor my grandfather, Andy T. Ritchie Jr., by publishing my blogpost #1000 on this, the 104th anniversary of his birth.  (I even set the posting time as 19:09 CDT, the year of his birth, but this part is useless trivia.) 

Andy Thomas Ritchie, Jr., son of Andy T., Sr. and Fannie Mae Cobb Ritchie, was born and raised in the Nashville, Tenn., area.  He married Kathryn Delma Cullum in 1933; the pair had four children — Andy T. III, Edward, Bettye, and Joan.  I am #7 of 10 grandchildren, and there are 29 great-grandchildren.

Granddaddy taught music at David Lipscomb College and Bible and music at Harding College.  (Both later become universities.)  He was a concert singer who recorded an album in addition to his performing on stage and on radio.  He influenced thousands through his

• personal conversations and correspondence
• leadership of personal evangelism meetings and “lily pool” hymn sings on the Harding campus
• direction of the Harding Chorus for several years
• much-remembered classroom teaching (see here for an external mention)
• inimitable, compelling leadership of worship  in song, and preaching — in his own congregation, and in other states
• manner of living life

I think Granddaddy would have appreciated a good deal of what I’ve written on this blog to date, although certainly not all.  He himself wasn’t known for his writing as much as for his leadership in other veins, but he did publish articles in multiple periodicals and wrote a full-length book on worship.  I imagine that, were he alive today, he would also have expressed being inspired by John 9, and would have appreciated my exegetical efforts, along with the highlighting of the challenge of the (Jewish) status quo.  (Therein, certain goals of the Restoration Movement which influenced both of us are also highlighted.)  Granddaddy probably would have appreciated most the emphasis on the worship of God the Son, as seen in this compelling story.

Believe it or not, one of the more memorable aspects of Andy T. Ritchie, Jr., almost eluded mention until the fourth draft of this postscript.  He was severely sight-impaired for the last 20 years of his adult life, having suffered detached retinas related to diabetes, and later became legally blind.  This mention of his blindness, written after the main portion of this post, leads me to include, here, a prayer song I wrote for a family reunion some years ago.  Please take a moment to read at least the words of Lord, I Want To See.  (A sound file may be downloaded by clicking this link.)

Granddaddy entered the land of the eternally living and seeing in 1983.

Milestone musings (999b)

As major league baseball season gets fully underway, I think briefly of the greatest sport’s stats-consciousness.  There are stats, and meta-stats, and stats upon meta-stats.  This feature of baseball can at once be endearing and irritating — sort of like color-commentators.

Some of the stats are silly, like “first player ever wearing the number 40 to weigh 40 pounds more than he weighted in his rookie year, while stealing 40 bases in a season.”  Others log bona fide accomplishments, like “hitting for the cycle,” batting over .300 for ten seasons in a row, pitching a no-hitter, committing no errors in an entire season, or winning the Triple Crown (for leading a league in batting average, hits, HRs, and RBIs).  Another type of stat in baseball is the milestone — e.g., getting 3,000 hits, or 200 wins by pitchers.

Speaking of stats . . . as I prepare to touch my toe to the 1000-blogpost milestone, I take a moment.  A moment to think about the last five years — with 95% of the posts in the last four years, since the life-changing birth of our son.  I’ve probably spent more time than I should have on blogging, and yet there have been times that I would have dried up emotionally and spiritually without this outlet.  I’m thankful for it.

I think of the countless edits — even the compulsive error-correction, that no one will ever know of, sometimes accomplished long after the publication of a post.  I think of the handy WordPress app on my smartphone, allowing me to make minor edits and even write short posts there, if I choose.  I think of the posts shared with others — those that have drawn new e-acquaintances, those that have challenged or annoyed friends whose faces I know, and those (probably most!) that have not been read by all that many folks.  I think of the patient interest of my wife, who regularly reads and listens to so many thoughts from this blog.  By the way, I’ve recently updated my brief bio/profile; if you’re interested in that, go here.

I think of the main thrusts of these ‘blogged public writings.  Of course there have been other therapeutic pieces that never were posted or shared with anyone, and one post back there somewhere is password-protected, because I ended up wanting not to share my very intense thoughts that day.  (This is one reason I assigned the numbers 999a and 999b — because there’s actually one of the 1000 that no one can get to.)

Most of my writing has been in three areas of focus, to which I remain committed:

1.  Christian Reform & Restoration 

(categories:  American Restoration Movement (Stone-Campbell), Biblical (or abiblical doctrine), Assembly, Church tradition and practice (and the church values series), Voices, Clergy-laity system, Leadership, Christian living

Toward these worthy goals, I often challenge the status quo.  I do not always do this well, but I do it with persistent conviction.  I write about the church groups I visit for various reasons, and I write about the churches of my past.  I write about things I hear from others who have been weaned on other traditions.  I’m invigorated by writing about restoration of the ancient order.  I’m periodically intrigued, or intolerant, or even incensed, always inclined to think out loud independently . . . but I’m never infallible.

I write about doctrines that make sense, some that don’t make sense, and some that make partial sense.  I write about denominations, certainly including the one of my own heritage, but I’m more interested than ever in nondenominational Christianity.  I write about Calvinism and Romanism, which I consider involve many adulterations and  hyperbolic excesses, although there are vestiges of truth in many places.  Like my son here, I believe pretty much everything deserves scrutiny and challenge for the sake of getting a better handle on it . . . and I think truth always outlasts honest investigation.

Jedd at 3.8, with Grandmothers magnifying glass

And I write about Christian practice — both in the assembly and out.  What Christian groups do when they are together can be the source of humor, inspiration, and frustration.  The “Christian living” category deals some in repentant hindsight, in encouragement of purposeful living, and in general musings about trying to follow along as a disciple of Jesus.

2.  Worship and the Assembly

(categories:  Worship, Monday music, Hymns & church music, prayer)

In support of the everlasting aspirations of worship, I have offered, for instance, the Monday Music quasi-series:  to date, 67 entries in this series, but approximately half of the total output here has had some relationship to worship, prayer, and/or the assembly of  Christians.  (Historically, aspects of both “worship” and “assembly” have been termed “the service.”  As I have written multiple times, I earnestly believe the label “service” is a hindering misnomer, when speaking of any of these things:  private or public worship, the Christian assembly or gathering, or even “liturgy.”)

I’ve written less about the deeper concepts of worship than I would have expected, and I think this avoidance stems from having personally dwelt in worship less than in several other phases of life.  Prayer has received only a modicum of focus, too; this is probably directly related to the fact that I often find prayer to be an inertia-stymied task.

3.  Biblical Studies

(categories:  Scripture [and all its book-level subcategories])

I have devoted much time to transcribing notes from group studies I have prepared, and to sharing notes from respected teachers and commentators.  I have also focused largely on exegesis.  It was no accident that one of the final posts leading up to #1000 was on exegesis.  I believe that scripture-grounded Christianity is the only valid kind of Christianity — not for the purpose of worshiping  the Bible, of course.  The Bible is not an end itself, but in studying the ancient, well-attested writings, one uncovers more of God’s intent for the early Christian community.  I grew up in a Bible-oriented congregation, and all but one church I’ve ever been a part of has paid serious attention to the scriptures on some level . . . but I now find most of the “Bible study” of my past to have been lacking in depth.  I advocate deeper, more intentional study, and I want to be both contextually responsible and devoted in my approach to biblical documents.

Yes, there are other areas I’ve dealt in besides the above three — e.g., government and Christianity, and various rants about things like cell phone laws and the misplaced apostrophes of the world.  I do have other interests and once even misused some summer hours devising a tongue-in-cheek “Shelter” for all my pet peeves.  But the things that are most important to me have gotten the most attention.  I like to call the important-stuff umbrella “Things of the Lord” or “Kingdom Matters.”  Not only my blog categories and tags, but also my thoughts and my filing systems (although not my consistent life patterns) generally reflect this priority.

God helping me, I will continue to 1) challenge the ways humans have messed up God’s intent for the Christian Way.  And I will continue to 2) pursue the One God and His true worship.  And I will continue to 3) study the scriptures seriously.

Special note:  in the next post, public post #1000, I’m going to attempt to bring these three, overarching topical areas together in one, and then I’m going to take somewhat of a break.  Regular readers will hear from me less often; for a while, any bloggings will probably be either historical re-diggings or brief thoughts.

MWM: a future filled with hope (995)

If you were looking for something about President Obama or the new U.S. budget or same-sex marriage (or healthcare reform, or some hopeless initiative to label GMOs in our food, or Korea, or anything related to the current geopolitical situation to get upset about [or to agree with]), you won’t find it here.  As far as I’m concerned, there can be no transcendent, ultimate hope in a political nation.

Rather, we look to the second coming of Jesus . . . no, we long for that parousia.  We place our firm hope — and this is no wispy wish! — in the future event, knowing by faith that all present joys will be magnified beyond belief, and all temporary struggles will be erased.

Aside:  incidentally, one of the two or three primary “second coming” texts, 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18, was probably not intended as a focus of Paul’s message.  It is a highly significant text, and not to be ignored, but neither does it constitute the main thrust of a letter that deals more in relationship and in walking/living Christianly.

So, what will the first day be like — that first “day” after Jesus’ return?  (Days may not exist, as such, but they might not have existed during the creation of the world, either.)  What might we imagine in terms of our own presence in that moment of all moments, that event to end all earthly events?  How will it be for me?  I have no idea, really, but I know, by faith, that my spirit’s awareness of God will eclipse all else.

I shared words from this favored song in the past and would like to do so again now, more completely and with commentary:

“Still, Still With Thee” (Harriet B. Stowe)

Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh,
When the bird waketh, and the shadows flee;
Fairer than morning, lovelier than daylight,
Dawns the sweet consciousness, I am with Thee.
 
Alone with Thee, amid the mystic shadows,
The solemn hush of nature newly born;
Alone with Thee in breathless adoration,
In the calm dew and freshness of the morn.
 
As in the dawning o’er the waveless ocean
The image of the morning star doth rest,
So in the stillness Thou beholdest only
Thine image in the waters of my breast.
 
When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber,
Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer;
Sweet the repose beneath the wings o’ershading,
But sweeter still to wake and find Thee there.
 
So shall it be at last, in that bright morning,
When the soul waketh and life’s shadows flee;
O in that hour, fairer than daylight dawning,
Shall rise the glorious thought, I am with Thee.

One and Two:  The first two stanzas, unified, poetically express the encounter of the eternal in terms of a resplendent, earthly daybreak.  All the beauties of the dawning of a new day while in a natural surroundings are, however, eclipsed by the breathless adoration of our stunningly brilliant God.

Three:  I didn’t previously know this stanza.  Its message is a simpler, more confined, yet remarkably redemptive, one:  The saved person is not even “seen” by God as himself … no, because of having put on Jesus Christ, what the holy, exacting God does see is the image of the spotless Lamb.  If this soteriological truth were not present, all the poetic beauty in the world could not resolve the need for atonement, and this salvation-less situation would require our spiritual death to an eternal existence with God.

Four:  as death appears imminent, and even potentially in the actual experience of dying, the believing soul casts his eyes in faith toward God.  As a foreshadowing of the final rest, for the human who experiences the Lord’s protective peace, a certain rest may come.  Yet a humanly experienced peace is neither satisfying nor absolute.  The waking — the arising to a consciousness of a Presence like no other — this is the completion.

Five:  there is no more lofty, no more finally fulfilling thought than to be with God forever.  Come, Lord Jesus, and take Your bride home.

==============

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

MWM: Adolphe’s discovery

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

Some discoveries are more significant than others.  Three years ago, I wrote about a more important one — Jim Woodroof’s, actually — that philosophically and practically places the gospels at the center of Christian understanding and practice.  But other discoveries merit a bit of attention now and then, too.

Again and again this simply poetic truth comes to my consciousness, from author/musician Bruce Adolphe:

A good tempo is a discovery.

Adolphe writes rather inclusively of music and life, But I suppose he is read and quoted more by musicians than by philosophers or sociologists.  For my part, in re-appropriating the above quotation, I would like merely to suggest that music in Christian gatherings should be considered in the light of tempo.  There is no one perfect tempo for a song; tempi for each scenario and venue should be discovered individually.  As an example, let me take the relatively contemporary song “10,000 Reasons” by Jonas Myrin and Matt Redman.  

The metronome markings below, semi-paradoxically offered as predetermined, acceptable ranges, are by no means to be taken as absolutes.

1. on original Redman recording:  70-74 bpm
2. in an average, medium sized contemporary church with worship band:  74-78 bpm
3. in small group in a home:  76-84 bpm
4. in an a cappella congregation:  76-96 bpm

Brief explanations of the above:

1. The original “is what it is” (In this case, I’d say it’s a bit on the slow side, but it works fine for Redman, with all the originally planned sonic trappings.)  Unless all the tracks are recorded in the studio with a click track, you can expect some human tempo variation; here, there is just a small range.
2. Given relatively slow originally performed tempos — i.e., slower than average walking pace, for sake of discussion — I would  typically recommend a slight tempo increase for non-professionals.  If any big-name “artists” ever read this, don’t get all high and mighty and say your specific tempo should absolutely be used.  Remember, “a good tempo is a discovery.”
3. In a living room or family room with a small group of less practiced singers, the pacing will generally be better, for these types of songs, if it’s yet a bit faster than in a #2-type group.  (In a larger hall, the tones have time and space to dissipate, but in a small room, music that’s too slow can seem dry, if not dead.)
4. When the slower, contemporary songs originally had a good number of rests and/or sustained tone in the vocal line, as a rule, the tempo should be boosted fairly substantially, in order to avoid too much discomfort with the waiting.

It’s not important that our sensitivities to tempo grow a) because of musical accuracy or even because of aesthetics.  It’s not b) because this or that tempo is right or wrong.  It’s c) because pacing matters in the human experience of so many things — including, but not limited to, automobile travel, conversation, reading, life in general, and music in church gatherings.  Sometimes, giving thought to discovering the right tempo for your group, in your setting, may just enhance worship.

Speaking of worship, I’ve shared the song “10,000 Reasons” with friends on several occasions recently, and it is clear to me that it touches many hearts.  In fact, it is currently #1 on CCLI’s most requested list.  I’ll close with a few of the lyrics.

Verse 2:

You’re rich in love, and You’re slow to anger.
Your name is great, and Your heart is kind.
For all Your goodness I will keep on singing – 
Ten thousand reasons for my heart to find.

Excerpt from chorus:

Sing like never before, O my soul
I’ll worship Your holy name

Words and Music by Jonas Myrin and Matt Redman

© 2011 Thankyou Music (Admin. by EMI Christian Music Publishing).

MWM: First Thing

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

Many years ago, I was inspired — and here, I use the word in a quasi-secular manner, although I don’t discount, at least at points, that God might have been directly involved in “inspiring” — to write a bunch of songs.   Only a few of these have ever been used outside my own direct sphere of influence.  Furthermore, considering the few songs I’ve created in more recent years, although they’ve all seemed worthwhile at the time, appear not to be stylistically attractive these days.  Some of my creations were probably never destined to be sung, even if I’d been given the right opportunity at the right time years ago.  One such song is “First Thing in the Morning,” composed between 17 and 19 years ago.

Based on stanzas 1,2,5, and 6 of Isaac Watts’s “Early, My God, Without Delay,” my own ”First Thing in the Morning” is a loose paraphrase-and-excursus that initially grew out of my admiration for Watts’s expressions.  As the song developed, it also came to incorporate thoughts from Psalm 63, which has long been a favorite.  The work is specifically conceived for four finely honed voices — three trebles and one light tenor who can also sing in the baritone range with some authority.  The harmonies are very close, difficult for even most professional musicians, and can still give me goose pimples . . . but I don’t expect that they would strike others similarly.  Truth be told, the music is kind of un-doable.  (Ever heard of an old vocal group called “First Call”?  If they were still in existence and added a fourth voice, they could do it, but no one else I’ve ever heard could.)

Considered overall, this song is a series of connected meditations and amounts to a personal offering that did (does) a world of good for my own spirit but was never destined for a wider audience.  (It’s ironic that I was originally sensing that the Watts verse needed a musical face lift in order to be presentable to the then-contemporary church.  Now, this musical creation is out of style, if it ever was in style!)

With all this ado, I offer here the words and then the first few bars of the music.  Mostly, I would be pleased for readers to share the words with me here, and perhaps worship in spirit.

First thing in the morning, my God –
I will not delay.
I rush to seek Your face!
First thing in the morning, my God –
I rush to seek Your (holy) face!
~ ~ ~
Here I am in the midst of worship;
My eyes are open wide.
Here I am in the midst of worshipping You;
I thirst inside!
~ ~ ~
Seeing You and drinking of You are the most excellent things in my life.
You are my God — Jehovah-Provider — quenching me when life is dry.
~ ~ ~
Father, I hunger.
I can’t get enough of You.
You’re the only One Who satisfies.
After the thunder,
Oh, drench me in Your Spirit’s rain,
Or I will be like one who dies.
~ ~ ~
The best things in life can’t even come close to stirring my soul.
(O my soul, bless the Lord!)
The best things in life can’t even get a song running through my mind.
~ ~ ~
So as long as I live, I will live to make You happy.
And my worship I will give, knowing Your protection and love.
I will worship You with all of my being,
Lifting my hands,
All of me freeing.
I will worship You, Lord, truly with my ev’rything.
Wanting to meet You in spirit, to honor my King.
~ ~ ~
First thing in the morning, my God. . . .

“First Thing in the Morning”  words and music by Brian Casey, © 1994-1996 Encounter Music.

First Thing in the Morning *incipit* — approximately 1/8 of the entire song

(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.

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.

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.

========

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. . . .

MWM: Father and Friend

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

Yesterday, I re-pondered this hymn (and actually sang it while driving with my family — any of the rest of you do such odd things at times?).  The words are among the best, I think, and have stayed in my memory for years now.  If you don’t know the tune, maybe you would allow yourself to spend time with them, reading them aloud to yourself or even sharing them with someone else….

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.

John Bow­ring, 1825

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/.

MWM: anyway

“Anyway.”

“Praising God anyway” is a believer’s theme that resists obsolescence.  Nevermind the ubiquity of Osteenist suggestions that God supposedly just wants me to be happy and successful, or of Robertsonesque calls to take back the U.S.A. for Christendom, the theme of praising anyway, despite life’s events, is compelling.

Spontaneously, last night, our living room was the scene as 7 committed believers sang together before beginning a study of 1 Thessalonians.

1. Fernando Ortega’s “I Will Praise Him Still” was actually bypassed last night — in part, because it was just too obviously a fit for various circumstances in our lives.  I don’t think many of us wanted to dwell too much in thoughts such as “the Lord our God is strong to save from the arms of death, from the deepest grave.”
2. The very next song suggested was Beth and Matt Redman’s “Blessed Be Your Name,” which is perpetually on CCLI’s favorites list (#4 on the list most recently tabulated).  The following excerpted words ring clear and true, not to mention calling us to faithfulness and worship “anyway”:

When I’m found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be Your name

. . .

When the darkness closes in
Lord still I will say,
“Blessed be the name of the Lord” …

. . .

On the road marked with suffering
Though there’s pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name

. . .

You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name

“Blessed be Your name.”  Has there ever been a more biblically based, Job-like thing to say to God in the throes of disappointment,  uncertainty, and anxiety?

3. We also sang another Redman song — “10,000 Reasons,” which is also up there on the CCLI list these days.

Whatever may pass and whatever lies before me
Let me be singing when the evening comes

I’ve recently learned of a development in the life of someone I know that could have far-reaching, negative effects.  During hard times, we stand together in the resolve to “praise Him still.”

Some news tends to remind me of other gut-punches from posses of the past.  There was a little one in the Heartland, and an envious, downright dishonest one in the mid-Atlantic.  One in Arkansas that might have initially had reasonably good intent but that ran roughly over a missionary family’s life years ago.  Another one in NH has in some ways coursed through an entire, extended family for years.  Long after the fact, I learned of another posse in Texas that involved a shotgun meeting with top-level administrators.  Some of these occurrences prove reminiscent, in hindsight, of posses from biblical times.

The Psalms,collectively Israel’s and the early church’s song book, are full of “anyway” resolve and exhortation.  Something within the in-tune human soul is drawn to the faith-filled response that soulfully sings, “Knowing that this life is temporal, I will worship You anyway, my eternal Lord.”

We humans are unable consistently to manifest this kind of faith, in our ocean of “anyways,” but it is a consuming, familiar call, and one whose echoes are heard through the millennia.

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

MWM: both promise and promise-keeper

Michael Card’s Christmas album The Promise stands tall above so many others, in that it is artfully conceived as a whole.  It incorporates at least one discernible bow that ties the whole package together.

The title track, “The Promise,” sets the stage with orchestration that gives way to a finger-picked acoustic guitar intro.  Straight from Isaiah 9, the initial lyric line observes,“The Lord God said when time was full, He would shine His light in the darkness.”  This prophecy bespeaks “promise.”  The most provocative line in the song is this later observation:

The Promise showed their wildest dreams had simply not been wild enough.

Don’t you love that?  Coming from that previous line, the Chorus can now be more expressive:

The Promise was love
And the Promise was life.
The Promise meant light to the world.
Living proof that Yahweh saves
For the name of the Promise was Jesus.

Now let’s move for a few moments, if you will, to Paul’s letter to the Galatians.  Among the compelling word-themes in this seminal letter are faith (of course), law, righteousness, and … wait for it … promise.  Jesus is quite specifically the fulfillment of promise.  I think it’s significant that the word epangellion (promise) is used only in the middle two chapters of Galatians, helping to form the center of Paul’s persuasive argument.  In fact, as scholar Greg Fay has said, Gal. 3:26-39 may be the conclusion to which the overall argument is headed, and the center of 3:1-4:10.  (On this point, note the placement of the word huios (son) in 3:7, 3:26, and 4:6-7, not to mention promise in 3:27 4:28.)   In the concentric text layout seen below, from 3:26-29, the A sections link identity as sons of God and sons of Abraham and the ideas of faith and promise.  This latter idea is borne out more fully as one becomes more familiar with Galatians.

A Sons of God, faith in Christ Jesus

B Immersed, put on Christ

C  Neither Jew, Greek, etc.
C’ One in Christ Jesus

B’ Of Christ

A’ Sons of Abraham, heirs of promise

Being sons of Abraham, for the Jew, meant being an heir.  In Galatians, Paul argues that being a true son of Abraham would be from the line of the free woman (not named, incidentally, but clearly painted in contrast to Hagar, who is named).  The free woman, Sarah, was the woman of promise; and faith, like that of Abraham, for whom faith was credited as righteousness, now leads to Christ Jesus.  Jesus becomes the personified Promise–both in Galatians and in eternal reality.

Back to Michael Card now.  Near the end of his album, in deeply simple, deft phrasing, Card uses these lines in a more hymnic, choral song:

Thou the Promise and keeper of the promise –
Our Salvation and our only Savior.
Our Redemption, our Redeemer, 
Thou art ours and we are Thine.

So be it.

Michael Card has for probably 30 years been a biblically focused, dedicated, scandal-free, prolifically inventive songwriter.  His sincere vocals are unique, and I’m at home with them, but his voice isn’t what I’m drawn to — it’s his thorough ability to distill biblical narrative and biblical teaching into songs.  Although I’ve been a Michael Card fan for about 20 years — starting with “Know You in the Now” and “Maranatha” and “Could It Be?” instead of the earlier “El Shaddai” and “I Have Decided” — I am neither groupie nor paid advertiser.  I merely think this kind of high-quality work merits ongoing attentiveness.

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

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 21^st 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.

Quote without comment

“Jesus is the glory of our worship in death” (Bob Kauflin, supported by the following quote):

If it were possible for a created soul fully (I mean, up to the full measure conceivable in a finite being) to “appreciate,” that is to love and delight in, the worthiest object of all, and simultaneously at every moment to give this delight perfect expression, then that soul would be in supreme bliss. (C.S. Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms)

 

Kauflin — a bit of this, a bit of that

This post will consist of a few bits of critique of Bob Kauflin’s notes from his address “THE WORSHIP LEADER AND JESUS CHRIST” at the Doxology and Theology conference in Frisco, TX, and the Christian Musicians Summit in Seattle, WA.  Please know, before I begin, that I have great respect for Bob Kauflin’s songwriting, his heart and sincerity of devotion.

Kauflin’s first assertion:

“The God of the Bible is Triune, Father, Son, and Spirit”

I prefer to say, for example, that the God of the Bible is almighty, majestic, and beyond description.  Just He is only sort-of “He,” He is only sort-of “three.”  (He actually transcends gender; He also transcends number, and this “triunity” is more a human formulation than a biblical one.)

Kauflin follows up with this:

“We worship all three persons of the Trinity as God.”

While he is correct for a large number of Christian worshippers today, I have found no biblical example of worship of the Spirit per se.

He continues,

“We can’t simply interchange the names of the Father, Son, and Spirit in our songs, or necessarily say the same things to each one.”

And in this, Kauflin is right on.  Next, he comments,

“The Father is delighted and glorified when we honor his Son.”

The proof-text which follows is “And a voice came out of the cloud, saying, ‘This is my Son, my Chosen One; listen to him!’” (Lk. 9:35)  Logically speaking, I would have to agree that the Father is delighted when we honor Jesus, but I don’t know that there is a biblical passage or principle from which I can draw this.  In reading the gospel accounts of this event, one could not necessarily infer worship from the Father’s message.  Moreover, honor, as Kauflin exhorts, might or might not come with hearing.  What the texts say is that the Father said to listen to the Son; the intent might have included worship, but probably dealt more directly with hearing Jesus over the prophets “seen” at the transfiguration, and/or hearing Jesus’ teaching, in general.

Kauflin’s second major section begins with the statement “Jesus is the leader of our worship.”  Hmm.  Conceptually, Jesus is central, but to suggest that “He is the leader of our worship” in these times is tantamount to projecting a PowerPoint slide of a Photoshopped Jesus of Galilee, holding a microphone and playing a Roland RD-600 digital piano.  ’Nuff said.

“It’s not our perfect offerings that make our worship pleasing to God, but the perfect Christ.”

Yes, Bob, you are so right on this one.

“Our worship is made one by Jesus.”

I’m not sure what this means, even in the context of Kauflin’s notes.  The use of Ephesians 2:14-16 (“For He himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility . . .”) is contextless and doesn’t really illuminate anything since most of us aren’t dealing directly with Jewish and Gentile division these days.

Kauflin does share some worthwhile lists — all apt expressions that draw us to Jesus:

The person of Jesus (Heb. 1:1-4; Col. 1:15-19)

1. Radiance of the glory of God
2. exact imprint of God’s nature
3. image of the invisible God
4. superior to angels
5. firstborn of all creation
6. has all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge
7. heir of all things
8. existed before all things
9. head of the church
10. fully God, fully man
11. King of kings, Lord of lords

The works of Jesus

1. created all things
2. upholds the universe by his word, took on flesh
3. obeyed his Father perfectly
4. made purification for sins
5. became sin for us
6. absorbed God’s wrath in our place
7. rose from the dead
8. ascended to his Father’s right hand
9. intercedes for his people
10. is coming back to destroy death, mete out justice, and live with his bride forever

MIscellaneous Kauflin thoughts and quotations:

We need to find, write, and sing more songs that spell out who Jesus is and what He has done (“In Christ Alone,” “Glorious Day,” “It is Finished,” “The Perfect Wisdom of Our God,” “Glorious Christ”).

Jesus should be bigger in our minds and hearts after we meet to sing his praise.

We need to help our people move beyond catch phrases and Christianese to think deeply about the glory of Christ.

And finally, a quote Kauflin shared from one Sinclair Ferguson:

“The evangelical orientation is inward and subjective.  We are far better at looking inward than we are looking outward.  We need to expend our energies admiring, exploring, expositing, and extolling Jesus Christ.”

Thank you, Bob Kauflin, for helping us think (and rethink) biblical, Christ-centered worship.  Not everything you say is on target or justifiable from a biblical standpoint, but your sincere devotion is unquestioned.

MWM: from cosmic theology to a consciousness of theophany

Friday, I sang a song that was new to me.  This doesn’t happen often, but when it does, and the song is worthwhile, my spirit sits bolt upright.  This was a “Christmas song,” I suppose — a true carol — and I’m not talking about Frosty or the decking of halls, which are not the subjects of bona fide carols.  I’m not much for observing days and seasons as a matter of law, but I’m very much interested in good theology that leads to authentic worship.  When those things are present, and it happens to be “the season” for the subtopic, I figure I’m in the middle of a reasonable convergence.

New expressions, when carried on wings of appropriate, and not-too-difficult music, can enliven the spirit.  The last time this happened to me was three months ago; even this once-in-90-days frequency is greater than average.  At any rate, in the Friday gathering, the words of this hymn helped me to worship, so I’ll share them here, with a little commentary interspersed.

Thou Didst Leave Thy Throne

Words (1864) by Emily Elliott; Music by Timothy Matthews (public domain)

Thou didst leave Thy throne and Thy kingly crown,
When Thou camest to earth for me;
But in Bethlehem’s home was there found no room
For Thy holy nativity.

As you ponder that, ignore the commercialism and habits suggested these days by the word “nativity.”  Take it simply, literally — along with a literal “holy” — and the validity of the facts of Jesus’ birth can become worthy inspiration.

Heaven’s arches rang when the angels sang,
Proclaiming Thy royal degree;
But of lowly birth didst Thou come to earth,
And in great humility.

Again, acknowledging a couple of seasonally over-seasoned phrasings (“angels sang,” “lowly birth”), we can overcome that dullness, spiritually affirming such deep put truths as the joy of heaven, and the extent of His kingly status juxtaposed with His meek humility.

Thou camest, O Lord, with the living Word,
That should set Thy people free;
But with mocking scorn and with crown of thorn,
They bore Thee to Calvary.

Thank you, O poet, for not leaving Jesus in the manger when you speak of ransom and atonement.  These things occurred with the cross.

When the heav’ns shall ring, and her choirs shall sing,
At Thy coming to victory,
Let Thy voice call me home, saying “Yet there is room,
There is room at My side for thee.”

[Refrains]

O come to my heart, Lord Jesus
There is room in my heart for Thee.

My heart shall rejoice, Lord Jesus,
When Thou comest and callest for me.

The overarching imagery in this worship song (yes, it is a worship song, although ’twill ne’er show up in anyone’s contemporary worship set list!) is that of the Bethlehem inn — the lack of space there and the question of “space” in the individual heart for the Lord.  And so we move from cosmic theology to a consciousness of a sort of “theophany” for the individual believer.

Jesus was not really “Lord at His birth”; to suggest that He was manifests not only an ignorance of the word “lord,” but also a pandering to popular, piddling, perhaps over-poetized theologies.  I do generally like the song “Silent Night” and can sometimes be enthused by it, but lyrical hyperbole does not make for the best theology on every point.  It is not the child who is our savior; it is the crucified, risen Son of God — Who for a time had a body, and Who at one time was a human baby.

The refrains of the song repetitively remind us of the connection between ancient history and present relationship.  It is eminently worshipful to speak to the Lord in humble recognition of the Incarnation, and to express a desire for Him to dwell in my heart.

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

Twila over Paul

She’s still meaningful and trustworthy — and I doubt she was ever “crazy” — after all these years.

Funny story:  I know a couple of guys who were in a singing group, at an Arkansas Christian university, when Twila Paris, then unknown, presented a few of her songs to them.  As I heard it, the group laughed behind her back when she left, thinking she would come to nothing.  Later, many of her songs, such as “We Shall Assemble” and “How Beautiful” and “He Is Exalted” and “We Will Glorify,” became widely known and loved by believers of many stripes.  Twila isn’t the kind to enjoy a last laugh, but she deserves to have had it!

Like way too many other Christian believers, Twila Paris recently expressed overwrought, ramped-up concerns over temporal politics, but she is as sincere as the day is long, her character is un-impugned to my knowledege, and her songs point us Godward.

I happened on an old cassette a couple weeks ago — Twila’s Sanctuary album.  I put it on.  Now, call me a trained musician, and you’ll be right.  I was still bothered by her huffy-puffy, gasping, uninflected, monotonous vocal non-style … but I was just as impressed as ever by her sincerity and trustworthiness.  Would that more Christian “artists” today could write and sing such things, remaining with us for decades.

I wish we all and could live lives consistent with our worship yearnings.  “After all these years,” some may be “still crazy,” but it’s far better to be still worthy.