I’m taking a blog break in December. During my break, I’m reposting some old blogs. This was the first post on Rebooting Worship, originally posted in October of 2011. 

Walking into the dimly lit sanctuary, I find myself coughing from the fog that is descending upon the space. Colored lights are set dramatically at different angles on stage. I hear someone comment behind me, “Is this worship or a Pink Floyd concert?” They laugh at their joke, but I am uneasily asking myself the same thing.

Worship begins. Low mellow music fills the air for a few measures while the stage lights slowly bring the band into view. Electric guitar riffs blare through the speaker directly over my head and catchy drumbeats cause everyone to rise to their feet. The sound of hands clapping fills my ears. The worship leader takes center stage and shouts, “WE WORSHIP YOU JESUS!” The congregation roars in approval.

I stand alone in the crowd, feeling like I’m being swallowed. Tears prick my eyes, but these are not the tears of gratefulness that I used to offer in worship. These are tears of frustration. I feel no worshipfulness. I feel empty.

“God,” I whisper to myself, “Where are You?”

I know He’s probably here somewhere, but I can’t seem to find Him. I can’t connect in worship anymore. As soon as the music starts, the wall goes up. I try to connect, but most feeble attempts are just that and nothing more. The words mean nothing and become a jumble on the PowerPoint screen. The band soon becomes nothing more than loud noise. It all starts to seem so showy.

So instead of worshipping, I find myself becoming cynical and critical. I stop singing. I judge every typo on the screen (Your all I want? Really? Who is proofing these things?) or missed note on stage. I walk away wondering what the point of it all was.

It wasn’t always like this. I used to thrive on worship. I am a vocalist, and used to be one of those peppy singers at the front of the stage. If I wasn’t on stage, I was in the front row with hands raised high to the heavens.

So where did this disconnect begin happening? Why has it happened? Is there something to this, a lesson to be learned? Do I have a message to share with the church or simply gunk to work through in my own life? This is why I will write; to discover all that is going on under the surface. I will sort out the good and hopefully sift away the bad.  I will learn as I go and maybe share something of value.

Hopefully I will be able to look at worship in a whole new light and emerge on the other side of this vast valley.

I’ve been thinking and praying about this blog lately. And I’ve decided it’s time I took a break. I love this space and the chance it’s given me to process, but I’ve realized lately that I think about worship. A LOT. Mainly because I’m looking for post ideas.

I need to stop thinking so much.

Like I’ve mentioned before, I need to stop doing and just be.

So, for the month of December, I’m stepping back. No blogging or writing about worship. The blog will still be up and running, but instead of new material, I’m going to re-run some old blogs. I also plan on taking a break from promoting, so no tweets or Facebook posts. If you want to stay informed of when posts go up, subscribe via e-mail. You’ll find it on the right side of the home page, underneath my picture and the most popular posts. Or, just check back every Monday and Thursday.

Next week, I will post my usual gratitude list on Monday (because I desperately need it), and the rest of the month will be old material. I look forward to connecting with you all in the New Year and wish you a wonderful Christmas season.

I hope today finds you surrounded by family, friends, good food, football (if that’s your thing) and reminders of the many things you have to be thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving!

With all due respect, I disagree with Carlos Whitaker.

Carlos Whitaker is a well known worship leader. Last year, he posted a blog post about whether a worship leader should talk while leading, or just sing. He believes that a worship leader that just sings is nothing more than a singer. Worship leaders are a sort of preacher, preaching with melody as well as words. Even though I’m a year late in reading it, here’s my take on it.

I find talking during musical worship distracting. When I’m in worship, I prefer to be left alone with the melody, lyrics and the God I’m trying to focus on. When a worship leader begins talking, and sharing their words and prayers, I have no room left for the words and prayers I want to offer.

Part of this is due to my introverted personality. I like quiet and a space to be introspective, even when I’m surrounded by noise. Quite honestly, worship can be stimulus overload for me. If my ears are being filled with someone else’s words, it makes it so much harder for me to worship. I usually stop trying and just wait for the music to be over.

Years ago, when I first tried my hand at worship leading and had absolutely no idea what I was doing, there were certain things I felt I needed to do. Talking was one of those things. Whenever there was a long instrumental interlude, I felt like it was my worship leader obligation to fill that void with something. Insightful, spiritual words. A prayer. Memorized Scripture. Anything. It’s what worship leaders do. At least all the worship leaders I had seen.

Every time I tried, it felt weird. Forced. Awkward. Really awkward. Talking during those times when I wasn’t singing just didn’t work for me. Again, probably due to my introverted personality. When I lead worship, I prefer to sing the song as simply as I can, without any extra embellishments to the melody and without any extra words. I try my best to get out of the way and let the congregation worship in whatever way they need.

It just feels more natural to me.

I also feel that talking during instrumental interludes is rude to the band. Those interludes are the time for them to worship God with their gifts. If I talk over their music, I’m taking away from their gift of worship.

What do you think? How do you feel about talking during worship?

 

Because I blog about worship, I think about worship. A lot. Sometimes I get really tired of thinking about it.

I left church this Sunday with the all too familiar frustrations that I’ve grown accustomed to. I’m not connecting, I’m tired of church people, is God really in all this… all that stuff that I’m trying so desperately to work through. Some days I think I’m doing better with it all, other days it all comes back and bites me in the butt.

I left feeling overwhelmed, with thoughts and frustrations churning through my head. Before I knew it, I felt a good cry coming on. (I’m a woman. I do that from time to time.) I ended up bailing on the lunch plans I had and went home to get the good cry out. Cause when you have a good cry come on, there’s just no stopping it.

After sniffling and sobbing for a bit, I pulled myself together and drove out to one of my favorite parks. I took a long walk through the fall-ish air, enjoying the relative cool and just taking deep breaths.

A long walk alone was what I needed.

Because this is more worshipful to me than any service. No stage lights, no noise, no expectation to worship a certain way. Just me and God. This allows me to clear my head and get lost in my thoughts.

I’m so tired of thinking about worship. I keep trying to shift the pieces into place in my head and make them fit. This struggle is far from over and I do need to keep trying. I don’t want to give up on church and worship. I know they’re important.

But sometimes I need to stop trying so hard and simply worship in ways that feel really real to me.

Question: Have you ever tried too hard to make something make sense?

I shared last month how I was taking part in a movement called Writers Unite. We decided to spend a month working on the writing that really mattered to us. For me, that writing was a book about my life and worship. A memoir, really. After this month, I feel like it’s finally taking shape. There’s a lot of work left to be done but it felt good to slowly piece the thing together this month.

Today, I’d like to share a small snippet of what I’ve written.

Worship is not a big concert

Standing in the middle of a large crowd, I am eager to see the next band, though I am getting a bit tired. Bouncing around in the summer heat zapped much of my energy. I am beyond excited to be back at Creation, but it’s getting late, and it has been a long week.

I stifle a yawn and muster up all my energy for the final concert of the night. As the band takes the stage, bright lights bounce across the trees surrounding the stage and loud booming guitars rattle our eardrums.  People begin jumping as the energy from the stage courses through their veins. They become unaware of the people around them, and soon little me is being run into and almost shoved over, without any sort of apology. Strangers are screaming in my ears. I huddle close to my group of friends, but still get jostled here and there. Water comes from nowhere, and pegs us in the face. We let out a loud, “HEY!” but it falls silent amidst all the noise surrounding us.

This is a CHRISTIAN concert?

I walk away from the show a bit disappointed. While I enjoyed the music, the atmosphere was less than inviting. I can’t shake the feeling that the people I have just been around had not been very Christ-like. We are returning to our campsite when we walk past the crosses on the hill.

“Hey guys,” I motion to the crosses. “I’d like to go see them.”

A man had built 13 crosses in memory of the Columbine high school shootings. These crosses had traveled around the country to different Christian concerts and events. They were made of simple wood, and were built to remember each teacher and student that had been killed that day.

As we walk by each cross, I notice that no one is shoving by anyone else to get a better look. In fact, if someone is peering to see better, the person in front of them kindly steps out of the way to allow them more space. People are holding flashlights up so that others can read the messages in the pitch-black night.

Then the singing starts.

I don’t know how it starts. I don’t know who started it. It seems as if the crowd just begins in unison, all softly singing together.  As we walk and solemnly stand at the foot of each cross, we sing praise songs and hymns in unison. Tears are shed. Prayers are prayed.

We worship.

***************

It seems that there is an ongoing trend among churches to make worship bigger and better. Huge bands, lots of vocalists with in your face harmonies, dramatic lighting, and even fog machines adorn the stages of many churches.

I question how this enhances worship.

I cringe (and cough) when I see fog machines. I wonder how much money those big lights cost. Moving backgrounds behind the PowerPoint distract me rather than help me focus on the lyrics. Big, in your face vocals remind me of American Idol.

Is God really into this? Are fog machines and strobe lights really enhancing the worship? Or is it just enhancing our worship experience?

When did worship become a production? Why do we feel the need to be entertained during worship? Worship is not a rock concert. It’s so much bigger than that.

When I attended my second Creation experience in the mountains of Pennsylvania, I enjoyed the music of all the concerts. That one particular evening, we found ourselves just a few rows back from the stage. It was exciting to be that close, to see all the musicians and watch all the action. Then I started getting jostled and thrown about. People stepped on my feet.

The concert wasn’t meant to be a worship service. It was a group of Christian musicians that were there to entertain. I understand that. But it was still disconcerting to be around this supposed group of Christians in the crowd and be stepped on, pushed around and ignored. People got so caught up in the concert experience that they weren’t giving a second thought to the people around them. I walked away very discouraged.

When we climbed the hill to those crosses, it was a completely different crowd. Everyone was respectful and compassionate. It was such a better experience than the concert. And the singing that started was beautiful. It wasn’t planned, staged or produced. It was spontaneous and heart felt.

For years, I’ve let myself get caught up in the worship “experience,” and the bigger and better it was, the more worshipful it felt. Now I’m ashamed of that way of thinking. I realize how wrong it is.

My husband and I have very different tastes in music. I’m an acoustic guitar, folk-y kind of gal, while he loves blaring electric guitar solos and hard rock.

Somehow, despite our musical differences, we make it work. We take time to listen to the other’s music. He’s given me a new perspective on music I would never have considered. We attended a Demon Hunter concert on our honeymoon (I got brownie points from his friends over that one), and he’s gone to more than his fair share of acoustic concerts that he was probably struggling to stay awake for. It’s all about compromise.

There are certain bands and albums that we both agree on. We also have this unspoken agreement that he doesn’t inundate me with too much screamo, and I don’t play so much banjo music that he runs screaming.

Everyone does not has the same music preference. Not everyone loves pop. Or country. Or contemporary Christian music. Yet we present one kind of music each week in our worship services and expect everyone in the congregation to connect.

It would be impossible to please everyone in one worship service. There are just too many musical tastes out there. It would be a bit weird to start with a quiet acoustic song and then launch into death metal. At some point we have to pick something and go with it.

But let’s not be surprised if people aren’t getting into the music. Don’t force them to worship to something that doesn’t feel natural to them. My husband feels worshipful when he hears an electric guitar solo while I connect better with acoustic guitar and a djembe.

I have no idea how to make corporate musical worship work better for the masses. But if I’m honest, I’m not real excited by the way it’s done now.

Any suggestions?

Years ago, after finishing my time on tour with the African Children’s Choir, a fellow chaperone and I went to see a pastor/counselor. She specialized in helping missionaries who were returning from the field. My friend and I were having trouble transitioning back into “real life” and really needed someone to listen.

She did listen, and she offered much advice to our tender souls. A lot of what she spoke that day is a blur, but I distinctly remember four words.

Don’t do. Just be.

She was speaking specifically about our quiet time. We shared how it felt we were just going through the motions by reading our Bible and praying. Nothing we did really seemed to work. Nothing clicked.

So she told us to stop doing. Like a little child that just wants to sit in Daddy’s lap, we just needed to relish in God’s presence. Stop trying to pray the prayer that makes us “connect.” Stop searching for the Bible verse that will make it all better. Just sit. Be.

I have a hard time with that. I’ve shared before how I have a hard time sitting still and being quiet. But the times when I really do stop doing and just be, it’s amazing the difference it makes.

I’m trying to implement that back into my quiet time again, because I’ve been trying to “do” stuff again. I’m searching again for the magic Bible verses. I get upset when I’m not “feeling” worshipful.

It’s a constant struggle, but I will strive to just be.

Question: Do you struggle with trying to be?

Before I ever started this blog, I had been “writing” a book about my worship journey. I use the term “writing” loosely. What I was writing wasn’t able to be formed into cohesive chapters, it was mainly “verbal vomit” (Sorry for the visual there). It was my way of processing and working through a multitude of emotions and experiences that I just couldn’t quite fit into place.

In the last year, I started working on pulling these pieces together and making it into some kind of cohesive book. I’ve been making progress, but get stalled out here and there.

For the month of October, I decided to participate in a group called Writers Unite. It’s basically an accountability group for writers. I’ve pledged to do the writing that I really want to do, and not get bogged down in blog stats and building a platform. I’m writing because it’s what I love to do, because it’s the thing that keeps me sane. The accountability of the group reminds me I’m not alone.

The writing that I really want to do, the writing I’ve pledged to work on this month is that book that’s been trying to take shape. I’m hoping to get a first draft done by the end of the month. I’ve made lots of progress over the last year, more than I realized. I have no idea if the book I “finish” this month will be the book that will eventually become a published ebook (that’s the goal). I may finish it, share the work with others and realize I need to go a completely different direction. If it is, I’m okay with that. It’s all  part of the process.

I hope to share a snippet of what I’m working on at the end of the month. If any of you writers are in need of some accountability, I recommend checking out Writers Unite.