Worship from the Coffee House

I am divorced, unemployed, heartbroken, depressed, soul-stricken – but I am not alone. I have to say it out loud to remind my aching bones, “I am not alone.” For the first time in my life I have no idea what comes next, no plan. I’m completely open to wherever God leads. This is both liberating and terrifying at the same time. No job means no money which means less options, and if I let it, more worries. I am not alone. Keep breathing.

Lately it has been a struggle and small victory every day to get up, take a shower, get dressed, spend time with God, journal, read the Word, and continue the job search. My energy is sapped to the point I psych myself up for each step. “Okay get up – ready, go.” My worship life is nearly as strained. I don’t feel like singing. I sing anyway. I don’t feel like lifting my hands or getting on my knees. I do it anyway. God is faithful. Say it out loud to remind my bones, “God is faithful.”

One pleasure I am still able to afford is the $2 cup of coffee from Lazy Daze and the energy that getting out among people gives me. I spend time sitting looking out the window onto Washington St., thinking about the people walking by and the pain, terror, and listlessness they are experiencing. Just like me. “Pray for them. Sing for them.” Around the corner is the Irving Theatre. I sit and dream of people flocking to the doors on a Sunday night, not because of the people inside, but because of this Jesus they speak of, sing of, worship. They need to know, need to experience and encounter this Living God. Hear with their own ears, tell their bones, “You are not alone.”

What if I could offer them a pleasure they are still able to afford? A cup of coffee, a song of hope, a Word of truth, a community of people whose utmost aim is love. God is faithful. What if pain isn’t as scary as we would like to think? What if death has, indeed, truly lost its sting? What then would we do with ourselves? I have an expensive car payment. I used to make it without problems when I worked full time as a teacher. I really like my car, but I will probably have to sell it and get something much cheaper, if I am able to afford anything at all. Eternity is near – heaven here on earth. Faintly, just for a moment, I feel the breath of the angels. “I am not alone.”

Despair. It’s never far from me. I am learning to walk with its heavy load on my back. Reminders everywhere. A life I once knew, a life I cherished. This was not in the plan. This is not part of my dream. Somewhere in one of the poorest countries on the planet, the earth shakes. “They are not alone.” Questions. Depravity. Injustice. Anger. Yet will He bring dark to light. God is faithful.

Brokenhearted. God is near. Facing my pain, lamenting the death in my life, crying out to God for help, this is my spiritual act of worship. I’m alive. And if this is not sacrifice, I do not know what is. I don’t feel like singing today. But I choose to offer my life, moment by moment, step by grueling step, before a King, a Good Shepherd.

I once heard an illustration of a shepherd and his sheep which carries profound meaning for me to this day. In the story, a shepherd is herding a large flock in the countryside. Of all the sheep obeying the shepherd, there is one young sheep that keeps straying away from the flock. His sense of adventure and independence, his curiosity, continually leads him away from the flock and the voice of the shepherd. Time and time again he is brought back to the fold, having narrowly escaped the dangers of the wild. Finally, the shepherd is forced to break the sheep’s leg, rendering him helpless, crippled, and completely reliant on the shepherd for help. The shepherd mends his broken limb and literally carries the injured sheep across his shoulders in a process that is obviously painful for the sheep, but no doubt painful for the shepherd as well. Through the time it takes to heal, sheep and shepherd enter into an unshakable bond. The sheep learns to rely fully on the shepherd for every need. The shepherd develops a special affinity for this sheep and once his limb is healed, that sheep, once injured – now healed, walks close by the shepherd for the rest of his life. He is favored among all the sheep. Alive. Safe. He is never alone again.

And I sit in this coffee house and I worship silently. And I feel my aching bones. And I see the people walking by. And if I look very closely I see the limp they are walking with, much like my own. And I lean into my chair.

“God is faithful. I am not alone.”

Thoughts on Worship…Part 1

Worship is our all-encompassing response to God’s greatness, love and mercy. It is an offering of our lives, in thought, word and deed, to Almighty God.

Theologian and author, Graham Kendrick, expresses this beautifully when he says, “Worship is first and foremost for His benefit, not ours, though it is marvelous to discover that in giving Him pleasure, we ourselves enter into what can become our richest and most wholesome experience in life.”

God does not need our worship as if He were like us, longing for recognition to fuel vanity or conceit. He is perfect – omniscient and omnipresent – and in His perfection, to do anything less than to demand total laud of Himself from all creation would be to reveal Himself as imperfect, and therefore, not God. But because He is completely perfect and without fault, He demands our worship because He knows that to worship, that is to make much of Him, is life-giving for all He is made. C.S. Lewis said that it is in the process of being worshipped that God makes His presence known to men. And I contend that this is our purpose, our reason for being created, namely – to know and be known by God and to be with Him where He is.

Therefore, worship is far more than the singing of songs or the lifting of hands. I love the way Paul describes true worship in his letter to the Romans – The Message version of this is just incredible – as he exhorts us to be “living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God.”

Romans 12
Place Your Life Before God
1-2 So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don’t become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You’ll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you.

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All that said, I wish to spend some time discussing the role of what we call “corporate worship.” More specifically, the role of songs, music, poetry and art in our weekly gatherings together, whether in a traditional Sunday gathering or a home church setting.

(to be continued)…

It’s Like a Song.

“Get rhythm when you get the blues
Come on, get rhythm when you get the blues
A jumpy rhythm makes you feel so fine
It’ll shake all the trouble from your worried mind
Get rhythm when you get the blues”

Get Rhythm

I love that old video. Mr. Cash so young, hair slicked back, mouth in a half-sneer as he sings. The word “cool” becomes epitomized. My favorite part of that video isn’t Johnny, it’s Luther Perkins on that electric guitar. The song’s got a real country-friendly, traditional feel until the “middle 8″ where he rips a guitar solo on that old Telecaster. If you listen real close you can hear him holding a basic 12-bar blues the whole tune, just building to that moment, a look on his face like he’s not even paying attention. The moment comes and goes and rock and roll is born blowing through that studio like gale-force wind. 

There’s great intentionality to that song. The solo doesn’t just come out of nowhere (even though it might seem like it on first listen). It’s coming the whole time. There’s a rhythm and a movement to the whole tune. In fact, there are actually 4 distinct rhythms in that trio that all form the “groove.”

Rhythm isn’t something we create. It’s already there – we just find it. It’s more something we surrender to.

Lately I have found that God created everything in a distinct rhythm. Every day, week, month, year has a rhythm. Each morning the sun comes up, right on cue and soaks the earth with light. Sometimes it’s understated, but the rhythm is always there. There is a pattern and “groove” that my life is set in – a simple 12-bar blues under the melody, while other times it screams through the other instruments with a volume and intensity that cannot be denied.

Harmony with God is our penultimate destiny – it’s the finish line. Jesus refers to this harmony of God and His creation as the “Kingdom of Heaven at hand.” God is as close to us right now as our next breath. We don’t have to create His presence in our lives, we simply surrender to it.

Christians, often simply calling themselves “Believers” have, since the beginning, kept time to the rhythm of God’s presence with us. Specifically, a practice called “fixed hour prayer” or “praying the hours” has been a practice employed by believers since the early church. This is simply pausing at certain times throughout the day (and sometimes the night) to recognize, remember and surrender to the presence of God. In the same way we rest on the Sabbath day once a week and turn our focus to God, we also should find rest, silence and the sacred throughout our work-day, a sort of “mini/many Sabbath” outlook.

Recently, I took up joining this ancient practice of quiet, contemplative spirituality, stopping for just 10 minutes to meditate on God and pray morning, noon and night. At first I found it hard to remember. It was like I was trying to create this pattern, this rhythm, until I realized the rhythm is already there. I just have to find it.

It’s like a song. I listen. I am moved by it. And sooner or later I experience the presence of God in my life – always there. Sometimes it’s understated – like a subtle 12-bar blues under the melody. But every now and then, it bursts through the song with a tone and volume that cannot be ignored. And I am silenced, save for one word which fumbles from my lips and drops out:

“God.”

I urge you to take a break from your day. Sit back, quiet your soul, take a deep breath and discover God’s presence in your life. “Be still and know that I am God.” You don’t have to try. Just listen. It’s like a song. “Come on, get rhythm.”

Ducks!

I really like ducks. This is interesting because I have a strong aversion to all other birds, but ducks are cool. Most mornings I sit outside on the balcony of our apartment with my dog, Bono, drink coffee and watch the ducks in our little pond behind our apartment complex. It’s really amazing to watch them take off and land on the water and the way they dive down, fully submerged to feed on bugs is really an incredible thing to behold. We like to count the seconds that it takes for a duck to come back up to the surface when it dives. The current record is 8 seconds. 8 seconds under water! That might not be a lot for you and me, but it’s a duck! It’s lungs are probably the size of a quarter or something. We’re no scientists, but by our calculations, that would be the equivalent of a person holding their breath for 5 minutes! (Note: All calculations are based purely on speculation. Plus, half of our research team is a dog.)

Ducks are also very kind for the most part, not like geese – so territorial and evil (Bono and I had a bad experience earlier this spring). But the main thing I think draws me to watch these animals is that they look like they are having so much fun. They swim, fly, dive, flop around in the water. And the thing that struck me today is that their day is basically comprised of eating, bathing, and napping. Who knew ducks had so much in common with worship leaders!

I like to watch ducks because they make me feel peaceful. They seem to have a pretty good lease on life. I want what they have. There is no worry in their lives. Hungry? Eat a bug. Dirty? Take a bath. Sleepy? Have a nap. They don’t seem to realize that in just a few short weeks they will have babies and those babies will be need to learn all of the important skills for survival in just a few short weeks and then the weather will turn cold and they will have to leave this place and fly south. Bono and I get nervous just thinking about it! Somebody needs to tell these ducks to wake up and get busy! There is much to be done. They are just a bit too at ease about all of this for me. After all, I have similar worries – what I will eat – how I will pay for it, where I will live – how I will pay for it, and on and on.

All of these worries of life can choke us, can’t they? Today in America, anxiety disorders are being diagnosed more than ever. People are so worried about life they need medication just to cope. (Don’t get me wrong, I’m not slamming people who take medication). I myself am a worrier. I don’t deal well with stress. The wheels in my mind start turning and sizing everything up so fast that I freak out pretty easily. Matthew writes about a time when Jesus made a great point about this condition people are in and tied it to trust in God…

“Here is the bottom line: do not worry about your life. Don’t worry about what you will eat or what you will drink. Don’t worry about how you will clothe your body. Living is about more than merely eating, and the body is about more than dressing up. Look at the birds of the sky. They do not store food for winter. They don’t plant gardens. They do not sow or reap – and yet, they are always fed because your Heavenly Father feeds them. And you are even more precious to Him than a beautiful bird. If He looks after them, of course He will look after you. Worrying does not do any good – who here can claim to add even an hour to his life by worrying?” Quoting The Voice of Matthew, Lauren Winner.

So each morning as I sit and think about all of the worries of life, I will choose to be like the ducks. I will trust my Creator for everything I need. And I will ask my Father to ease my worries and give me peace.

 

 ”Lord, help me be more like a duck today.”

 

 

The Fate of the Universe

This was the moment we had waited and worked toward for nearly a week of near-constant playing of Mario Galaxy on Nintendo Wii. Michele and I had a tag-team strategy that had done us well up to now. The last battle had been a tough one. Bowser, the evil, magic dragon who held the entire universe’s life-source, light, under his control, and had kidnapped the Princess Peach, Mario’s love-interest, had been defeated. We could hardly believe it as planets collided, stars exploded and light burst from every seam of every wrinkle of every galaxy. Cue the music! Roll the credits! Mario wins! (Okay so Michele wasn’t quite as excited as me…she was probably just excited to go to sleep at this point in the night).

 

With the destruction of Bowser’s evil hold on the universe, everything is destroyed in an astonishing display. All things are reordered, restored and recreated. The game ends with a scoping shot of all of the oppressed peoples Mario has set free, dancing and leaping for joy. Mario raises a triumphant fist in the air. THE END.

It’s everywhere isn’t it? Light and darkness, good and evil, black and white. The entire universe seems to be entrenched in a collision of two opposing forces. And we love it, don’t we? We love this struggle, this story, this opus. It’s why we like words and phrases like “the beautiful struggle” and It’s why we love Lord of the Rings, but especially Return of the King. It’s why Superman is inspirational. It’s why thunderstorms are so awesome. It’s what C.S. Lewis was getting at in Narnia.

 

It’s also in the hurt. It’s in the anguished face of a Palestinian man mourning his child. It’s in the regretful tears of an alcoholic. It’s in the crushing guilt of adultery, or the abysmal pit of depression. It’s in the gutter, the ditch. It’s in the garbage dump. It’s in the slums and ghettos, the crowded shanty towns. It’s in the rain, isn’t it? I think it’s even in the rain.

It’s in our DNA. And as hard as it all gets, as nightmarish and hell-on-earth as life can be, we press on. Hope sets us alight, because there are moments in this final battle scene when we remember how it ends…Light beats darkness. Death has no sting. Love came down and They named Him Jesus.

Cue the music. THE END…is just the BEGINNING.

Lists

I hate lists.

As a worship leader, every week one of my most important tasks is to come up with a setlist for Sunday morning worship. As a teacher, every day I am faced with alphabetical lists of students – attendance, grades, detention. Week after week I’m faced with lists: groceries, names, to-do, emails. I do most anything in my power to avoid lists at all costs. Something in me feels so confined by them, so sterilized by their order, their strictly informational uses.

I started a study this week on the book of Numbers in the Old Testament, part of the “pentateuch,” also known as the Torah. I’ve gotten some great insights from jcstudies.com and particularly Keren Pryor’s midrashiccommentary (midrash is basically just a very Hebrew way of saying “thoughts about scripture.”) The problem I had getting started though was the beginning. The entire book begins with a detailed census of the people of Israel as they embarked on their journey in the wilderness, a list . Clearly I was misdirected as to what Bible study I should be doing. Numbers? I think maybe this one was put in there for accountants or archivists, not worship leaders. I need depth, wide-open spaces, creativity, outside-the-box!

So I put down my Bible and sought refuge at the Starbucks drive-thru and the new Death Cab for Cutie album. Inspiration! I will set out and find another book to study. The Gospel! Yes, the beautiful Gospel I first fell in love with. And where shall I start? Matthew! Yes, Matthew. The whole story, from Nativity to the Great Comission. This is what it’s all about. I can spend my entire summer studying this great book! I set out for the Christian book store, forgetting how much I dislike Christian book stores and emerged successfully with the latest release from The Voice Project, The Gospel According to Matthew. I felt re-energized, aside from the slight nausea from all the book covers with Joel Osteen and Joyce Meyers smiling at me. (Why are their books physically so large in size? It’s like buying a self-help encyclopedia.)

I arrived home caffeinated and ready to embark on this life-changing pursuit. I opened Matthew, Chapter one and found…

…a genealogy, a list! It seems that God is in the business of making lists. It seems that God is in the business of order. He rescues His People from slavery and bondage in Egypt. Then what? Take a census. He inspires one of the greatest literary works in history, written by a disciple of Jesus and how does Matthew start? A list!

It seems like it is a major priority of the Kingdom of Heaven to create order. All of creation is in the business of order. There is beauty in it. There is hidden meaning in it. From the way the human body is put together to the way geese fly. There is glory in it. There is truth in it.

As I dug deeper I found that the LORD instructed the Israelites to set up camp in a very specific order, according to name and tribe. This resulted in such a sustainable community that they were able to pack up and move across the desert wilderness again and again for 40 years! This resulted in such an intential display of God’s priorities for His people. Each tent was arranged around the tabernacle where the Presence of God was. Every time they left their home, people saw the tabernacle and were reminded that at the center of community, at the heart of it all, is the Presence of God. Later in the book of Numbers, Balaam, a prophet, is called upon to curse Israel and upon looking over them, he is overcome with the beauty and order of their community. Rather than curse them, he can only exclaim, “How beautiful are your tents, Jacob, your dwelling places, Israel!”

God has created everything to fit into His perfect will.

Matthew begins with a genealogy which in a very Jewish way announces Jesus as the Messiah. It turns out, to the Jewish audience he was writing, numbers were extremely meaningful. It turns out that by listing 3 sets of 14 generations, from Abraham to King David to Jesus, Matthew was making a point. In Hebrew, the name David is represented by the number 14. Matthew was heralding Jesus Christ, the Son of David, Messiah and King.

I love lists.