What's A Worshiper To Do?

Well, this has been a week of big changes.

First, our time as dog owners has come to an end. In an attempt to remove as many possible allergens from our environment, Winston was the first casualty. We gave him to a young teacher Misty works with who lives a couple of miles from us. I think it is for the best. I would have liked to recoup out initial investment, but I am more relieved than anything else to not have a dog to worry about. Our lives are stressful enough without the added pressure to take care of an animal. This has been a process that has taken much longer than I had hoped. I guess it is all about timing. But tonight, my house seems quieter and less stress filled than it did the day before.

Of course, Wednesday was my 36th birthday. It was fine. The build-up to my birthday is always worse than the day itself. I took my older ladies choir out on their first field trip of the season. I am no longer directing them myself, but I still take them out to the nursing homes and represent the church. They are a fun bunch and very generous. They gave me a nice gift card. It was probably the kindest present I got that day. Another "friend" gave me a cane and some adult diapers, as well as some Centrum Silver and, of all things, a doo rag. This was all presented during our weekly Fellowship Supper. I had to explain to people that I was not 40, though these gifts apparently gave off the essence of 40.

I had a big Daddy weekend Friday and Saturday. Misty went to Jacksonville for a Beth Moore conference and left me with the three little angels. We took our weekly trip to Target Friday night and bought toys with gift cards sent by Aunt Shannon for Easter. We bought caramel popcorn and watched "Enchanted." You have to love a Disney princess. Then, Saturday morning I drove the girls to Panama City Beach and we went miniature golfing. Okay, Emma did fine. But Elizabeth, in the midst of meltdown after meltdown, got two legitimate holes-in-one. No joke. She could never seem to remember how to hold the club. I would have to take it from her and say, "Hold it like an ice cream cone." She did not get the hang of it, but still managed a feat her older sister could not match, much to Emma's chagrin. Madeline was just along for the ride. She would drop her ball in if she felt like it, or she would want to go again and again. She was a little difficult, but I think she enjoyed herself. I survived, but was exhausted. I have finally started back into my running regimen and had been up early, before the girls woke up, running on the treadmill. And then I got the brave idea to take them out golfing on my own. All in all the Daddy weekend went well, only a couple of meltdowns. I find that Elizabeth has more of my lesser traits, the impatience in particular, that absolutely drive me crazy. I love her, but I am not looking forward to the teen years with her. I guess we will leave that one up to the Lord.

In other thoughts:

I have been thinking a lot about what church is, what it should be, and what it can never be. I have a friend who blogged recently about how back in the 1980s many thought that the problem of relevance in the church could be solved by adding "contemporary" music. The discussion went something like churches who did not sign onto the new music signed their death warrants, but those churches that made the transition are finding that modern music came up short as well. While I agree that music is not the answer, I wonder if we are asking the right questions. I have long felt that a church's style of music was irrelevant to its spiritual effectiveness. Though I do not care for southern gospel music, I am sure that there are churches, large churches at that, which make use of this style of music and continue to grow because, at the center of the church is their love for Christ and their desire to be effective witnesses for Him in this world. Again, it is not about the music or the style format, it is about the church's ability to foster relationships with Christ within the members of the body and coming together as equally called disciples to realize change in the world.

I guess the real question for me is what is the point of church? And by "church" I mean the place we attend on Sundays and Wednesdays. I really do not think the church was meant to be a clearing house for salvation. What I mean is the church, if it is living out its Christ-given commission, should be adding to its numbers by personal evangelism, rather than by some great culturally-relevant musical offering or wonderful culturally-intuitive sermon. In other words, I don't think the church was meant to be a place where we invite sinners to come and let the wonderful words of the pastor exhort them to salvation. I think that believers are supposed to lead people to Christ before they ever set foot in a church. The way I view the early church was not a place where non-believers congregated, but believers. So, to make church about believers is really not a wild thing, or even an irrelevant thing; it is realistic, because the church was meant to be populated by believers and cater to the needs of the faithful. The problem lies in the fact that the church as a body of believers never enters the world. I see the apostles going where the sinners were. I wonder how many of us are following that example.

Now, with that said, the issue of relevance is not without gravity, especially when we consider the youth of the church. As my friend pointedly suggested, a church without youth is only a few years from oblivion. So how do we make the church a place that is hospitable to younger folks without making it unbearable for older folks? The symbols and heritage of the church are things that are worth preserving, but there is a fine line between preserving and worshipping the symbols or the music or whatever. Seeking new and "relevant" ways to worship are also significant and cannot be overlooked (I am always looking for new music or new visuals to aid in worship), but we also have to avoid seeking out the innovative for the sake of innovation.

This issue of "new" music has been a sore spot to me lately for some more personal reasons. We have this young man who is helping us with our youth worship team. I really like him and he is very talented, but sometimes he says things without knowing how they will be received. He was looking through some of the music that I use for our "contemporary" service and commented on how old it was. I laughed and said some little something about it, but it bothered me a little. So, I started looking at what we were doing over the last several weeks and most of it was what I would consider fairly new. With the exception of one song, the oldest song we used in our worship services over the last three weeks was published in 2003 (and many of them were only a year or two old). I am not one to worry about being on the cutting edge, but I am wondering if it makes me really old to think that 2003 is still pretty current.

And another thing: As much as I realize that our worship music has its limitations, I still want the people to engage in the worship time. Even though there is a part of me that thinks our God is imminent, as close as your next breath, "happy clappy" music is utterly ridiculous, especially when one considers the transcendence of God, the Creator and Sustainer of the universe; I still want my congregation to actively engage in adoration of this King. I want our young and old to enjoy being with each other in the presence of God. And when this does not seem to be happening, I wonder why we are there. It really makes me wonder whether or not we are coming from this worship thing from a completely false perspective. I wonder if we have tried for so long to give the people what they want in worship that we have failed to see what God would want (and that could be completely different for each congregation, not necessarily the pre-packaged "Songs for Worship" love track) and thereby disastrously missed the point altogether.

What's a worshiper to do?

Happy Easter Monday

Today is one of those days I dread and love all at the same time. I am glad to have a day off after the craziness of Holy Week, but there is always that emotional let down after the big event. I think this past week went very well and the people who came to our services received something spiritually moving. Our Good Friday service, that worried me to no end, turned out very nice and was likely the best service we have done since I have been at FUMC Panama City. Sadly, there was not a large group to witness this service. Over the past two years, we have done a big choir presentation for Good Friday and the place was packed. Part of me is pleased to know that when our choir presents something, the congregation knows it will be worth attending. The other part of me is mortified by the possibility that some of us only come when we know what we are getting into, culturally or spiritually or otherwise.

Easter Sunday is always nice with the exception of having to be up at the crack of black to get ready for the sunrise service. And we usually see the sunrise or at least the effects of the sun's rising. I had the great joy of having some assistance this year, more than ever before. Our youth pastor, Carl and one of our sound techs, Jonathan, gathered all of the equipment for me so I did not have to worry about it. And, even more amazing, when I reached the park at about 4:50 or so, they were already there setting up. Amazing.

So, after a week of eleven services, I am glad that Holy Week is over for this year and will not be so early again for a while. I have already begun to plan out Christmas and July 4th and I have an idea about next Easter too. So, no rest for the wicked.

One last thought: I read a little more in the book of Mother Teresa's letters and, in her discussion of her calling to start her new mission, she was impressed by the words of Jesus on the cross: "I thirst." She believed that God was telling her that he thirsts for people to be in relationship with him. While instructing her sisters, she would explain:

"I thirst," Jesus said on the cross when Jesus was deprived of every consolation, dying in absolute Poverty, left alone, despised and broken in body and soul. He spoke of His thirst--not for water--but for love, for sacrifice.

Jesus is God: therefore, His love, His thirst is infinite. Our aim is to quench this infinite thirst of a God made man. Just like the adoring angels in Heaven ceaselessly sing the praises of God, so the Sisters, using the four vows of Absolute Poverty, Chastity, Obedience and Charity towards the poor ceaselessly quench the thirsting God by their love and of the love of the souls they bring to Him.

Imagine what it would take from all of us to quench the infinite thirst of a God made man. Where do we begin?

PS: Here is a picture of my pretties on Easter Sunday morning out in front of the church. There were so many Easter lilies, I thought I would die. But, amazingly, I did not suffer any cruel effects. God must have given me a little favor after all.

Allow Myself to Introduce . . . Myself

Clearly, as I have not published much this month, I have had little to say. I usually look forward to March since my birthday is this month, but since Easter is so early this year, everything seems to be focused on the festivities surrounding Holy Week and rightly so. These weeks on either side of Easter are really full and so I will not really be taking any time to celebrate my birthday. And, I am becoming more and more agitated by the thought that my age is now unquestionably roundable up to the big 4 - 0. Honestly, I don't feel old. As old as I felt when I was younger and had to pretend to be older and mature, I thought by this time I would feel decrepit. I guess it depends on your perspective.

I also realized that this year marks 18 years since I graduated from high school. So, I have lived as long as it took to graduate from high school again. And, it is amazing to me to think about where I thought my life would lead at the point I left Oklahoma City for the first time, afraid of leaving home and what I had always known to venture into a very safe arena in Waxahachie. Now, looking back at where life has led me in this second 18 years of life is at times startling and at other times completely natural in its evolution. I think this is my greatest struggle with life, how un-unsettling it can be when you look at it over a period of time. Or, more precisely, how unsettling it is that it is not unsettling when you try to look at it from God's perspective. In the end, the big deals of life are almost inconsequential. We spend our evangelical youth looking for the prize known as God's will, only to find that we can only know the answer to that question from day to day. Seldom do we have the calm of knowing more than 24 hours in advance where we will go. I am beginning to take pleasure in not knowing. This, my friends, is a miracle in and of itself.

Last week I started on my journey to ordination as a deacon in the United Methodist Church. As I have said before, I look forward to this process with equal parts joy and loathing. I want to go forward in this endeavour, but I realize it will nail the coffin shut on my old life. And, as I have said many times, although I am glad to be on a new path, sometimes I miss the comfort of the old one. It is the same story, wishing there was even a possibility to bore a hole in a door that God has shut (and shut long before I gave voice to it). It will be good for me to identify myself in this new way. It will give me some additional grounding that I think I need right now and allow me to feel a sense of home within my new fellowship. I really feel the need to complete the severing process that I began in 2002 and by doing so, can go ahead and shut the door on the past for good.

In other news~Our little Madeline is not doing all that well. Her allergy-induced asthma has really been bad these last several weeks. She coughs all the time. In the next few weeks we will likely have her tested for allergens/triggers now that she is old enough to do this. We hope this will help some in treating her.

Misty and I are going on a date tonight for the first time in God only remembers when. Some kind members of our church gave us tickets to the opera for this evening. I am thankful for them, but I wish the opera were next week. I hope to get through it. And, part of me hopes it is really bad because I enjoy bad singing almost as much as I enjoy good singing (and you never know with travelling companies). At least it is Madame Butterfly and Puccini is always good for a nice self-inflicted death scene.

Real Men

Well, these last several days have been pretty quiet. Not much to report. I am freaking out that Easter is now less than two weeks away. I will be glad when it is over, so I can plan some things for Independence Day and Christmas. Tomorrow I will meet with our district superintendent to officially begin the process to be ordained as a deacon. I am looking forward to it with joy and dread all at the same time. I would like it better if they would just tell me I'm in, rather than going through this whole long process~more graduate schooling, psychological exams, etc.

I had one of those crazier than crazy Sundays. We had a funeral and a wedding at the church this week, so that meant I was going to have to set up all of the instruments for the contemporary service and the handbell choir was going to play at both traditional services, so that meant an extra 45 minutes to my already hectic morning. And, it was daylight savings day on top of it. So, I get to church at what just the day before was 4:58 a. m. to find that the bells and all their accoutrements were not where they were supposed to be. So, with the help of our chief custodian, I had to move all of them and do all the rest of the stuff I needed to do. Let's just say I was almost fetal until the custodian came in the door. Granted, it was just two minutes after I got there. Anyway, things went well in spite of the trauma.

I leave you with this video of a Baptist preacher discussing what it is to be a real man, Biblical style. You know how much I enjoy a sermon which completely takes the Scriptures out of context. Discuss amongst yourselves.

Longest Weekend Ever

Okay, so this has to have been the longest weekend ever. You know, it started with the Friday night funeral. I could not sleep at all Friday night, so I sat up and watched stupidness on television. I slept late Saturday morning and then we went and looked for a new kitchen table. We have been planning to buy one for years and never have. So, finally, we bought a round table with five chairs. Then Saturday evening I had the first of two concerts with the Pro Arte Chorale. The performance went fine and I enjoyed getting to sing some new music. Only a couple of spots were a little weak. But there was one section where I think I was the only one singing. I wanted to stop and ask where everyone else was. I refrained.

Sunday is always long, with three services as usual. Immediately after church, I changed into my tuxedo and drove to Santa Rosa Beach for the second concert. I was listening to the Faure' Requiem really loud and did not hear my telephone buzz. When I was done listening, I discovered I had received two calls, one from one of my church choir members (who is also in the Chorale) and the other from the director of the Chorale. As it turned out, one of the members of a small ensemble (SSAATB) had become ill since the last performance and they wanted me to substitute for the tenor. Again, all of this music was new to me. So, with about 30 minutes of practice, I sang four songs with this little ensemble, three madrigals and a Renaissance song in German. Funner than fun.

I have never thought of myself as an exceptional sightreader, but I guess I am better than I thought I was. So, for a week when I was being extra hard on myself, I guess God gave me a moment of clarity that helped me realize that I am giving enough of myself to what I do. And, I am continuing to work on my issues with spontaneity and being willing to just go for it. I usually do not have a problem being spontaneous on my own, I just don't love it when it is thrust upon me. Oh well, it is a work in progress.

So, after the concert, I drove back to church so that I could make an appearance, hear the student praise band, and have dinner with the family. This concludes my 13-hour work day. So much for no work on the sabbath.