Wonderful World of Worship

This past Sunday my family went to a local Presbyterian church to worship. I was asked to assist the leaders of the church with their vision for worship, an area I have grown in while serving at The Plant.

So off we went.

The service was at the same time, but there were no drums, guitars, speakers, monitors, projector screens, video cameras, stages or folding chairs.

Instead, there was an organ, a choir, robes & vestments, pews, stained glass windows, hymnals and a piano.

So much was different—the whole look and feel, how people spoke to you, how they greeted you, how they smiled—yet there is so much that is the same.

There was a lot that was different. But why look at the differences when we should look at the similarities?

There was so much that was similar. The order of service had much in common, communion was served. People were blessed and prayed over. Lives were shared. Food was eaten. It was a calm and beautiful and simple.

Christians are all part of a wonderful world of worship. There is so much that is new and exciting and different, so much that is tantalizing and easy to run off and join, only to latch on to the next best thing. Worship can be turned into a flavor of the week.

Being part of a wonderful world of worship is not about choosing which part of the world we like to live in. We all should do that. The real critical decision is the one that comes after: once we have chosen we should decide to stay put. There is so much energy wasted in the endless chase for “worship” when there is a whole world of worship most will never be able to explore.

There is a wonderful world of worship out there, but none is as important as the world of worship that happens every week with your own faith community. As this next Sunday approaches take a few moments to take in the worship that is happening all around you, then join in, knowing you are part of something that is just as deep, profound and exciting as anything the world has to offer.

Becoming Comfortable with Silence

Quakers worship in silence.

It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, but I don’t know if I could handle it.

I love silence, but I wonder sometimes if I confuse silence with nothingness or a void.

Becoming silent means that instead of emptying ourselves we should be filling ourselves.

In other words, I think we are not comfortable with silence because we confuse silence with the total absence of sound and thought. Instead, we should think of silence as meditation.

The Bible doesn’t discuss silence in the way we often think of silence. Jesus went away to quiet places and David meditated, but this doesn’t mean they went to places that were void of sound. I know from times out hiking or hunting that the outdoors can become very noisy when you try to be quiet. So while Christ may have gone to quiet places to pray I don’t think it’s necessary to assume that you could hear a pin drop.

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I relish time spent alone in a church pew, in the silence, praying, thinking, doodling. It’s a time of literal sanctuary. A time of meditation. But noise is everywhere. It’s so quiet I can hear the pew creak beneath me as I shift my seating position or shake my leg (it’s an awful nervous habit of mine…I need to constantly move). You can hear the wind against windows and car horns outside. Silence heightens the senses.

Silence heightens our openness to God.

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When I am silent laying in bed the Jesus Prayer often comes to me. I match my breathing to the syllables and pray in the silence of the night. I can hear crickets and cars passing by. I can hear my wife voicing the subtle exhales of sleep. It’s a place I find refuge.

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The world is silent when gardening. You can hear the shifting of dirt and the absorption of water.

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I had a professor who would pause before he prayed to begin class.

Not a subtle pause. A long pause.

At first I thought he did this to be dramatic.

The more he did it though, the more I realized he was entering worship. He was being serious. He was choosing his words carefully and giving his words beauty and purpose.

Ever since, I now find myself pausing before I pray.

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There is comfort in silence. Not absolute silence, just regular silence. The slowing of sound. The quietness of the world. The quietness of the heart.

I make a habit of this kind of silence. I enter into it when I write in my prayer journal sitting in my cubicle before I begin a non-stop work day that never allows me any quiet moments.

I make a habit of silence that fills the soul with the wonder and mystery of God. It is in this silence that I find holiness, power and peace. It is in this silence I find comfort that the absence of sound or thought could never bring.

Silence Is Uncomfortable, Period

In a rather informative yet business-specific training on the topic of managing virtual teams, the instructor touched on conference call etiquette. She glossed over one fact that piqued my interest from a spiritual standpoint: the average person becomes uncomfortable with silence during a conversation after three or four seconds. Some scientists believe our feelings of awkwardness are even hardwired into us. Even more scary, total silence drives people crazy.

So what are we to make of the paradox that we spend time in silence as an act of worship yet we become so uncomfortable with silence?

What ways do you try to deal with the discomfort or awkwardness that comes with silence?

The Art of Curating Worship

A book that has me absolutely brimming with ideas is Mark Pierson’s The Art of Curating Worship: Reshaping the Role of Worship Leader. This book speaks directly to how worship can be a means of discipleship for a community and the needs of artists within their faith communities to grow and thrive.

It’s not often I feel like I read a book that confirms my dreams like this one does. When people have asked me how I envision a future role in full-time ministry I tell them I want to be a worship pastor. This is often met with puzzled looks.

I don’t play guitar.

I don’t sing melody.

How could I be a worship pastor?

To me, the point of being a worship pastor is to shepherd (pastor) people in worship, in a holistic sense. Just like preachers don’t accomplish their whole job in a half hour on a Sunday morning, why is it expected that a worship pastor’s sole focus is a four song music set on Sunday morning. Quite frankly, why do churches have full-time job roles for that? A worship pastor should lead and disciple people in worship.

To me, that means helping people in prayer, Scripture reading, music, serving others, discipling others, cooking, cleaning, painting, writing, etc. If we want to take seriously that all work should be worship, then the worship pastor should be uniting people’s vocation with their spiritual disciplines to bring glory to God in all we do.

This book speaks to that sentiment. Focused on doing stations based worship on Sunday mornings along with “guerilla worship” (doing worship events in the larger community, like art installations), this book shows that the role of the worship leader is to facilitate the  faith community’s participation in worship by utilizing individual talents to create art and bring glory to God. In its pages you will find dozens of examples, mostly in Australia and New Zealand, of how worship leaders are curating worship installations that allow God to speak to people through all of their senses. It is a view of worship as immersion—a setting aside of time to be immersed in the depth of the human condition and how God speaks to this depth.

I know I am not alone. I had a good friend lament to me a couple of months ago about how she set up an art event at her church and only one person showed up. This book is for people like us, who struggle with how to lead worship in a holistic way that connects with your diverse faith community and disciples people in their strengths and vocations.

The Art of Curating Worship: Reshaping the Role of Worship Leader
Mark Pierson
Sparkhouse Press
$15.92  (Amazon)

An Epiphany About Discipleship

I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to be a disciple lately. (Most of the time) I have the Bible reading down, an active prayer life and fellowship with Christ-followers and my neighbors.

But it still feels like there is a gap or hole in my becoming more Christ like. I would equate it to tapping on a watermelon and hearing that dull hollow sound coming from the bowels of the melon. It felt a bit like that.

I think that hollowness comes from not using our gifts and talents for worship.

“I use my gifts and talents all the time!” you might reply. And you are right. You probably do. I believe you.

What I think often happens is that we use our gifts and talents to accomplish a task and not to worship.

The story of the magi, today on Epiphany, their feast day, is the perfect reminder of what our gifts and talents should be used for.

But first, a retelling of the story of the magi in our modern ways.

The magi were men who had the gift of hospitality. Knowing that to be good Christians they were supposed to use their gift of hospitality, the men took off on a journey to be hospitable. What better way to use our gift of hospitality than to give gifts to the King of Kings! they thought. So they journeyed many months until they found the King of Kings as a little baby. The men all descended from their donkeys and camels to make their way into the Christ child’s house, weary from the long journey but excited to finally accomplish their task. The men gave three gifts and celebrated. They had used their gift of hospitality! Hooray!

This retelling is how we often think about our gifts and talents. We are supposed to use our gifts and talents to accomplish something. And while that is true, and necessary, it misses the larger point of what the true value of our gifts and talents is worship:

When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. (Matthew 2)

The whole point of the magi using their astrology talents and traveling all that way was to use their gifts and talents in worship. If it is just to complete a task, it loses its full meaning and its ability to shape us into disciples.

As we begin this season of Epiphany, let the story of the magi remind you that our gifts are talents are supposed to be used in worship, and by using our gifts and talents to worship God we are shaped into the disciples he wants us to be.

What are your gifts and talents?

How do you think you can begin using those gifts and talents in worship?

Is Repetition Unholy?

I remember the first time I heard the bizarre statement that repetition took away from worship. It was, not surprisingly, in a Baptist church. I had, probably naively, asked why the church didn’t practice communion more often. The response was that repetition made spiritual practice meaningless and unimportant: “If you do something too much it no longer has any value, so we only practice communion every now and then to keep it fresh and exciting.”

That is an American response.

That is the response of a person who was raised on instant gratification.

That is the response of a person who expects new, exciting forms of entertainment.

That is the response of a person who values change over consistency.

That is the response of a person who values feeling more than commitment.

Most importantly, that is not a Christian response.

The Christian response is that our spirituality and worship are everyday, every hour, every minute happenings. We are admonished to take communion each time we gather, to pray without ceasing, to pray in a certain way, to sing songs, confess sins, listen to the reading of Scripture, meditate, teach, learn. These are all things we repeat. Unceasingly.

Repetition is not unholy. It is a deep, elongated experience that should make us into disciples.

Repetition in worship is just like when you tell a family member you love them.

Repetition in worship is just like when you take a drink of water.

Repetition in worship is just like when you eat breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Repetition in worship is just like when you go to sleep.

Repetition in worship is just like when you go to work.

Repetition in worship is just like when you turn on a light so that you can see clearly.

Yes, I can readily admit that we can stumble into laziness or unfocused action in repetition, but that is not the fault of the spiritual practice, just as much as it is love’s fault when a spouse just mumbles the words “I love you” without any thought or care. We need to learn to embrace repetition in worship, the normalcy and comfort of sameness in worship, just like we accept this normalcy and comfort of routine in the rest of our lives.

I repeat: we need to learn to embrace repetition in worship. And when we do, we will become aware of the slow and steady movement of the Spirit in every aspect of our life. When we do, we will become aware of how God is steadily working on our holiness: through repetition.