As dissatisfied as we may be with church as a career opportunity, our enthusiasm for church attendance has not been dampened in the least. Since February, when we left the HOP, we have been double-dipping, so to speak, in church worlds.
On Saturday night we attend a contemporary service at a local Baptist church. The contemporary music is the best in town, and we enjoy worshiping with friends in the small and familiar crowd. On Sunday morning we have been attending a Presbyterian church, which we love for its liturgical style, simplicity, and meaty preaching.
Since we are no longer officially pursuing the church job track, we felt that it was time to really commit to a church. We have been visiting several congregations in our area, and we have yet to find one place that really has captured our interest.
It's been almost a year since I blogged about my own conflicting preferences in worship service styles. At the time, I was hoping to be part of a church that could reconcile my desire for casual and formal, comfortable and reverent, etc. Now that we've had the opportunity to sit in the congregation of many different churches (and many good churches, at that), I've come to believe that the only way I can reconcile the paradox is by keeping my feet in two worlds.
When I go to Saturday nights I feel the warmth of community and the emotion of jamming for Jesus. When I go to my PCA service, I feel the companionship of centuries of believers as I recite the beautiful words of liturgy and sing ancient songs of faith. The combination of these experiences makes my churchgoing experience feel complete. When I miss out on either one, I feel lacking.
And so it is not indecisively, but thoughtfully, that I choose both.
Showing posts with label faith/church. Show all posts
Showing posts with label faith/church. Show all posts
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Orthodox Paradox
I try to avoid serious posts, because I worry about sounding like I'm taking myself too seriously. But I'm going to deviate from my M.O. today because I'm mulling over some ideas that might be of interest to some of you who are church afficionadoes like me.
The beautiful and the difficult thing about being in a church like the HOP is the fact that it is in major need of definition. This fact, plus my own personal discontent with the state of my own faith, has had me thinking a lot about my idea of the Perfect Church. I've had a hard time nailing it down because the things that I love about various church traditions seem at times to be mutually exclusive. For example:
Comfortable vs. Reverent.
We love attending Saturday night church with our friends in a very relaxed envioronment. We wear jeans, sing contemporary songs, and listen to a practical message that is delivered by a man who wears jeans and props his Bible up on a music stand. It doesn't feel like "church," it feels like a bunch of people getting together to worship and talk about Jesus. There is no stuffiness, no pretention, no pressure. I love that.
On the other hand, I remember about two churches that I have visited that have been very meaningful to me precisely because of the reverence and formality of the service. I think that there is something very beautiful in coming into a place that is quiet and holy, participating in repsonsive reading, reciting creeds, marking time by the church calendar, and singing ancient and beautiful songs without any drums or electric guitars. Those services have made me feel small in my place, and reminded me that God, and even the Christian tradition, is so much greater than my own experience. I love that, too.
Relevant vs. Transcendent
It's a paradox that is similar to the one above. Is church about bringing God to our level, or bringing us to God's level? I have been thinking about a quote I've heard recently: "We often read the Bible for God's truth, and try to apply it to our lives. What we need to do is read the Bible to see God's truth, and try to apply our lives to it." Do I need a service where God meets me "Just as I am," or do I need a place that helps me to see beyond who I am to a reality that is greater?
Traditional vs. Stuck in the Mud
As a fairly traditional person, it surprises me that I rebel against church tradition like I do. In our church, I feel like screaming because we don't feel the freedom to try new things and find creative solutions to problems. Are the walls pink? Let's try beige. Is "the invitation" actually a useful part of the service? If not, let's change it to better use that time. Our own church still operates according to the rules of Billy Sunday and the sawdust trail, and I feel stifled.
And yet, the elements that I want the freedom to play with are even older traditions: liturgy, the Apostles' Creed, kneeling to pray and reading prayers of the saints. I don't want to create a church that is so contemporary that it is disconnected from 2000 years of rich history.
And then, of course, there is the million dollar question, the "Mike Harris" head-scratcher: These are great ideas, but what will they look like in my church on Sunday morning? How do we bring these lofty notions into the practical world that we live in?
I don't know the answer, but I'm looking for it.
The beautiful and the difficult thing about being in a church like the HOP is the fact that it is in major need of definition. This fact, plus my own personal discontent with the state of my own faith, has had me thinking a lot about my idea of the Perfect Church. I've had a hard time nailing it down because the things that I love about various church traditions seem at times to be mutually exclusive. For example:
Comfortable vs. Reverent.
We love attending Saturday night church with our friends in a very relaxed envioronment. We wear jeans, sing contemporary songs, and listen to a practical message that is delivered by a man who wears jeans and props his Bible up on a music stand. It doesn't feel like "church," it feels like a bunch of people getting together to worship and talk about Jesus. There is no stuffiness, no pretention, no pressure. I love that.
On the other hand, I remember about two churches that I have visited that have been very meaningful to me precisely because of the reverence and formality of the service. I think that there is something very beautiful in coming into a place that is quiet and holy, participating in repsonsive reading, reciting creeds, marking time by the church calendar, and singing ancient and beautiful songs without any drums or electric guitars. Those services have made me feel small in my place, and reminded me that God, and even the Christian tradition, is so much greater than my own experience. I love that, too.
Relevant vs. Transcendent
It's a paradox that is similar to the one above. Is church about bringing God to our level, or bringing us to God's level? I have been thinking about a quote I've heard recently: "We often read the Bible for God's truth, and try to apply it to our lives. What we need to do is read the Bible to see God's truth, and try to apply our lives to it." Do I need a service where God meets me "Just as I am," or do I need a place that helps me to see beyond who I am to a reality that is greater?
Traditional vs. Stuck in the Mud
As a fairly traditional person, it surprises me that I rebel against church tradition like I do. In our church, I feel like screaming because we don't feel the freedom to try new things and find creative solutions to problems. Are the walls pink? Let's try beige. Is "the invitation" actually a useful part of the service? If not, let's change it to better use that time. Our own church still operates according to the rules of Billy Sunday and the sawdust trail, and I feel stifled.
And yet, the elements that I want the freedom to play with are even older traditions: liturgy, the Apostles' Creed, kneeling to pray and reading prayers of the saints. I don't want to create a church that is so contemporary that it is disconnected from 2000 years of rich history.
And then, of course, there is the million dollar question, the "Mike Harris" head-scratcher: These are great ideas, but what will they look like in my church on Sunday morning? How do we bring these lofty notions into the practical world that we live in?
I don't know the answer, but I'm looking for it.
Monday, August 14, 2006
As Promised: the GoldDigger Post
In general, I am a fan of country music, however, there is one song that I hate (Okay. Lots more than that. But one in particular that serves as a perfect lead-in for my post.). Have you ever heard the Faith Hill song "This Kiss"? The telling lines are in the first verse and the chorus: "If I could have just one wish, I wish you could see the way you kiss...I love the way you love me." Is it just me, or is this the most selfish love song EVER? Not that I am picky about songs written in admiration of me, but I would be disappointed if I were Tim McGraw or whoever this song was written for/about. This is the sort of love song that my needy dog Callie would write. She loves me not because of my character or my talents or my personality, but only because I hold her, feed her, let her outside when she needs it, and I pet her head. It's selfish, immature love.
Speaking of selfish love, if I understand the premise of the current hit song "GoldDigger," it's basically talking about this girl who is only in a relationship because of the material comforts that it provides her. Without much of a graceful transition, I'm going to jump to my point here and propose that while a GoldDigger (material or emotional, as in "This Kiss") in a human relationship is easy to spot, we all at some point or another fall into this category when it comes to our worship of God. Many posts ago, I basically said that many Christians treat God like a benevolent, heavenly Sugar Daddy, and that this is painfully obvious in the music that (across traditions!) we sing and love. I will add a quick disclaimer here: I am looking forward to Heaven, and I am grateful for the blessings that I receive from God. HOWEVER:
+ Too often we love to sing and reflect upon our blessings (God has done this for me. God gives me such value and esteem. God gives me good things. Etc.), but we conveniently forget that the Bible implies that those blessings come with some responsibility: that we are blessed in order that we might be a blessing to others. I think that we are too content to hole up in our churches and sing about the gifts we have received, but we don't take any responsibility for sharing those blessings (spiritual and material) with those outside of our doors. God's chief concern is not our prosperity or comfort.
+ My other major complaint, which hits contemporary music the hardest, is that the worship of God is often lost in the worship of our own emotional response to God. A perfect example, which I will probably get nailed for because people tend to love this song, is the smash hit "I Can Only Imagine." Yes, Jesus makes an appearance in this song (I think), but the real focus is "I can't wait to see how I will feel/act in Heaven." Notice the pronoun there? We worship God not because of who He is, but because of how He makes us feel.
I am not saying that it is never appropriate to have a personal reference in a song of worship. Many great and beautiful hymns are about "me," including "Amazing Grace," "Rock of Ages," and lots of the Psalms. It's just also nice to take a break from meditation of our own personal happiness and eternal rewards to think about God himself and the work that he has called us to do.
Speaking of selfish love, if I understand the premise of the current hit song "GoldDigger," it's basically talking about this girl who is only in a relationship because of the material comforts that it provides her. Without much of a graceful transition, I'm going to jump to my point here and propose that while a GoldDigger (material or emotional, as in "This Kiss") in a human relationship is easy to spot, we all at some point or another fall into this category when it comes to our worship of God. Many posts ago, I basically said that many Christians treat God like a benevolent, heavenly Sugar Daddy, and that this is painfully obvious in the music that (across traditions!) we sing and love. I will add a quick disclaimer here: I am looking forward to Heaven, and I am grateful for the blessings that I receive from God. HOWEVER:
+ Too often we love to sing and reflect upon our blessings (God has done this for me. God gives me such value and esteem. God gives me good things. Etc.), but we conveniently forget that the Bible implies that those blessings come with some responsibility: that we are blessed in order that we might be a blessing to others. I think that we are too content to hole up in our churches and sing about the gifts we have received, but we don't take any responsibility for sharing those blessings (spiritual and material) with those outside of our doors. God's chief concern is not our prosperity or comfort.
+ My other major complaint, which hits contemporary music the hardest, is that the worship of God is often lost in the worship of our own emotional response to God. A perfect example, which I will probably get nailed for because people tend to love this song, is the smash hit "I Can Only Imagine." Yes, Jesus makes an appearance in this song (I think), but the real focus is "I can't wait to see how I will feel/act in Heaven." Notice the pronoun there? We worship God not because of who He is, but because of how He makes us feel.
I am not saying that it is never appropriate to have a personal reference in a song of worship. Many great and beautiful hymns are about "me," including "Amazing Grace," "Rock of Ages," and lots of the Psalms. It's just also nice to take a break from meditation of our own personal happiness and eternal rewards to think about God himself and the work that he has called us to do.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Apology, if needed
Just a side note...when I wrote my tract post last night, I had actually intended to "save as draft" so that I could ask Stephen if he thought it was too inappropriate to post. But, I hit "publish" instead...and rather than just edit out the potentially offensive material, I decided to leave it.
But, I realize that some of you in my vast reading audience might consider last night's post to be inappropriate. If you do, I apolgize. But I still hope that you get the point, because I think it's really true. Jesus is compelling enough without having to resort to emotional manipulation or cheap scare tactics.
But, I realize that some of you in my vast reading audience might consider last night's post to be inappropriate. If you do, I apolgize. But I still hope that you get the point, because I think it's really true. Jesus is compelling enough without having to resort to emotional manipulation or cheap scare tactics.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Scared the Hell out of Me
Here's a great story to share with the kids at bedtime.
Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Timmy. Timmy went with a couple of his friends (against his mother's wishes) to a haunted house on Halloween. What they saw in there really scared them! They ran screaming out of the haunted house. Unfortunately, Timmy wasn't watching where he was going and he ran in front of a car and died. When Timmy "came to," he realized that he was in Hell! He would be with the devil in the fire forever. Back on earth, Timmy's friends tried to comfort themselves with the idea that Timmy is "in a better place." But their wise and Biblically educated Sunday School teacher unfortunately had to share the truth with Timmy's friends: Timmy was not in a better place, Timmy was burning in Hell with the Devil. You see, just last Sunday the teacher had shared about Jesus with Timmy and he had said that he would "deal with that when he was older." Unfortunately, Timmy would never get that chance.
Great story, huh? This is from a tract that we found as we cleaned out the office at the HOP earlier this week. It is meant to be handed out to children as they come trick-or-treating to your door.
Okay. I am not denying the reality of Hell (although the details of what it will be exactly like are debatable), but I think that this tract represents about the tackiest way to get people to become Christians. I think that this approach misses the whole "Good News" thing that the Bible talks about.
I could be wrong, though. If any of you have read this story and now want to become a Christian, I will stand corrected.
Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Timmy. Timmy went with a couple of his friends (against his mother's wishes) to a haunted house on Halloween. What they saw in there really scared them! They ran screaming out of the haunted house. Unfortunately, Timmy wasn't watching where he was going and he ran in front of a car and died. When Timmy "came to," he realized that he was in Hell! He would be with the devil in the fire forever. Back on earth, Timmy's friends tried to comfort themselves with the idea that Timmy is "in a better place." But their wise and Biblically educated Sunday School teacher unfortunately had to share the truth with Timmy's friends: Timmy was not in a better place, Timmy was burning in Hell with the Devil. You see, just last Sunday the teacher had shared about Jesus with Timmy and he had said that he would "deal with that when he was older." Unfortunately, Timmy would never get that chance.
Great story, huh? This is from a tract that we found as we cleaned out the office at the HOP earlier this week. It is meant to be handed out to children as they come trick-or-treating to your door.
Okay. I am not denying the reality of Hell (although the details of what it will be exactly like are debatable), but I think that this tract represents about the tackiest way to get people to become Christians. I think that this approach misses the whole "Good News" thing that the Bible talks about.
I could be wrong, though. If any of you have read this story and now want to become a Christian, I will stand corrected.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Let's go to the HOP
As promised, some church-related thoughts. Profound and otherwise.
~Being "Baptist" is way more complicated than it sounds (although technically I have not joined anywhere...so can I still call myself non-denominational? It is becoming more and more important to me...). I am having a hard time understanding why certain things are important(i.e. "the Invitation," the wooden "look at our numbers" board, the inevitable exchange: "We had some visitors today!" "Oh really? Are they Baptist?" etc.). I prefer to explain it by saying that I am incredibly open-minded and ecumenical. Stephen says it's more like I'm just stuck on my own traditions, which happen to be different than those at the HOP. Either way, it's reinforcing my appreciation of McLaren's proposal of becoming "post-denominational," meaning that we recognize that every Christian tradition is seeking after the same goal, which is to understand and know God and to seek after his kingdom. The logical thing to do is to pull the best from each tradition rather than being stuck with both the pros and cons of one particiular flavor of Christianity. McLaren's book A Generous Orthodoxy is a great, thought-provoking book about the good in various Christian traditions, plus some traditions, such as environmentalism/social justice causes, etc. where Christians have not really been involved but maybe should be.
~I keep getting asked the question, "As the pastor's wife, what roles are you going to take on right away?" I don't really know how to answer that...I'm kind of feeling things out like I think anyone would do when they join a new church. The only thing I have said forcefully so far is that I do not want to do children's Sunday School. Is that just rebellious of me? I am much more interested in becoming involved with other young couples, hosting Bible studies in my home, and discussing possible advancements in the music and missions aspects to church life. I've been cautioned on a couple of different occasions not to let my own preferences keep me from listening to God's leading. But, I kind of feel like my preferences can be a way that God leads...to say that Sunday School must be where I am supposed to serve because it's what I have the least interest in seems like a pretty cynical view of God. I want to counter that maybe I am interested in young families/music/missions because those are the areas where God wants me to serve. Any comments?
~Both of those previous posts have run long (English Major Syndrome at work) so I'll stop for today. Tune in next time for "Why Do We Only Sing About Heaven?," alternatively titled "Does Obsession with Eternal Rewards Make Us a Little Like GoldDiggers?"
Comment away...
~Being "Baptist" is way more complicated than it sounds (although technically I have not joined anywhere...so can I still call myself non-denominational? It is becoming more and more important to me...). I am having a hard time understanding why certain things are important(i.e. "the Invitation," the wooden "look at our numbers" board, the inevitable exchange: "We had some visitors today!" "Oh really? Are they Baptist?" etc.). I prefer to explain it by saying that I am incredibly open-minded and ecumenical. Stephen says it's more like I'm just stuck on my own traditions, which happen to be different than those at the HOP. Either way, it's reinforcing my appreciation of McLaren's proposal of becoming "post-denominational," meaning that we recognize that every Christian tradition is seeking after the same goal, which is to understand and know God and to seek after his kingdom. The logical thing to do is to pull the best from each tradition rather than being stuck with both the pros and cons of one particiular flavor of Christianity. McLaren's book A Generous Orthodoxy is a great, thought-provoking book about the good in various Christian traditions, plus some traditions, such as environmentalism/social justice causes, etc. where Christians have not really been involved but maybe should be.
~I keep getting asked the question, "As the pastor's wife, what roles are you going to take on right away?" I don't really know how to answer that...I'm kind of feeling things out like I think anyone would do when they join a new church. The only thing I have said forcefully so far is that I do not want to do children's Sunday School. Is that just rebellious of me? I am much more interested in becoming involved with other young couples, hosting Bible studies in my home, and discussing possible advancements in the music and missions aspects to church life. I've been cautioned on a couple of different occasions not to let my own preferences keep me from listening to God's leading. But, I kind of feel like my preferences can be a way that God leads...to say that Sunday School must be where I am supposed to serve because it's what I have the least interest in seems like a pretty cynical view of God. I want to counter that maybe I am interested in young families/music/missions because those are the areas where God wants me to serve. Any comments?
~Both of those previous posts have run long (English Major Syndrome at work) so I'll stop for today. Tune in next time for "Why Do We Only Sing About Heaven?," alternatively titled "Does Obsession with Eternal Rewards Make Us a Little Like GoldDiggers?"
Comment away...
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