Series of Seven: Worship

When I was a kid, worship service was often called “Big Church”.  Like many “traditional” style churches, there were shorter things, such as prayers, hymns, and scripture readings first, which many of us kids may have paid attention to.  In fact, one of my best memories of “Big Church” as a kid was sharing a hymnal with my mom or dad, a thing I have recently done on the flipside with the children I teach in children’s choir (warm fuzzies all over).  Then, there was the sermon, in which the semi-retired pastor would talk about…something…while all of us kids in the children’s program would color pictures of the latest Disney characters or complete crosswords, mazes, and word searches.

Obviously, since then, I’ve put away the coloring books and opened my ears for sermons.  The worship of God in corporate settings is a very important thing; it is a place for a community of believers to come together.  Yet, the best worship is both observant and participatory.  Often, people will do one or the other, though worship should include both aspects.

The first of these is a rather easy concept to understand.  Observant.  We observe at worship by seeing and listening (and perhaps the other senses as well).  We listen to the choir, accompanist, or soloist provide music to glorify God.  The sermon, lovingly prepared and meticulously researched by the pastor or speaker, is another thing we observe.  We listen and let it mold us, which may even later lead us into participation.  We hear about the Great Commission, so we go out and love.  We hear about the Woman at the Well, so we stop judging others.  We hear about David or Solomon, so we realize that while there are many who do very good things, everyone has fallacies, and we shouldn’t act as if others are perfect.  We can also observe things by sight.  The stained glass windows.  The flowers on the altar, placed lovingly by a widow in honor of her late husband.  The people walking in halfway through the first hymn, looking lost, confused, and slightly ashamed in their tattered secondhand coat, though in need of something, be it acceptance, love, or understanding.  (This sort of thing also should definitely be followed by participatory worship, by meeting, accepting, loving, and understanding this beautiful Child of God.)

Then, we participate.  We sing the hymns or worship songs together, a collection of those who have remembered the words since their childhoods and no longer need hymnals for beloved songs such as “Amazing Grace” or “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms” and those who stumble through strange words like “bulwark” and “ebenezer”, those who have sung solos and those who cannot carry a tune in a bucket, those who sing loudly and those who barely move their mouths while holding their heads down, afraid someone will hear them sing something a bit out of tune.  We partake of Communion together, the bread and wine (or Welch’s, as I grew up with) touching our lips, and entering our bodies.  Whichever way we take communion, whether by shared vessel, intinction, or wafers and those tiny “shot glasses” as we dubbed them in youth group, whether the bread is homemade, bought at Panera, or styrofoam-flavored wafers that were likely purchased before AOL CDs careened through the US Postal System, whether we believe it to be symbolic or real blood/body, it is an act of participatory worship that brings us together.  We also participate by the reciting of prayers.  “Our father who art in heaven…”  “Praise God from whom all blessings flow…”  “I believe in One God, the Father Almighty…”  Sometimes, while reciting these things, I recite them blithely, something I’ve always done (asides the Apostle’s Creed….Baptists don’t do creeds).  Other times, I think about them.  Wishing for God to forgive the things we’ve done wrong as we forgive those who’ve wronged us.  It’s hard.  Many churches may have other forms of participatory worship, but I’ve always liked the way my church ends it.  We end with the passing of the peace, a thing that’s often done in the middle of church services, if done at all.  But it’s a great way to conclude and go out into the world.  “The peace of Christ be with you,” the pastor states.  “And also with you,” we chime, followed by handshakes, hugs, greetings, meetings, and general conversation, and then the proverbial race to beat the Methodists to the K&W.

The Hebrew word for worship, “shachah” means “to bow down”.  As the Psalmist states in Psalm 95:6, “Oh come, let us worship and bow down; let us kneel before the Lord, our Maker!”  When you bow down to someone, you revere them.  We do this while listening and observing.  Yet we also do this while participating.  Whether singing, taking communion, or saying prayers together, we do it in the worship of God, not for ourselves.  And in the passing of the peace, we humble ourselves by wishing one of the calmest, most loving things upon one another: that of peace.

Therefore, the peace of Christ be with you.  And you.  And you.  And yes, even you.

Series of Seven: Fellowship

Ask any person who grew up in the Baptist (or likely Methodist) Church the first word that comes to mind when told the word “fellowship”, and they’ll tell you “potluck”.  And that’s true, often fellowship is done around the table.  That’s the reason why most “Fellowship Halls” are primarily used for eating.  However, there are many other ways to fellowship that don’t involve mystery casseroles, deviled eggs, and trays of ham biscuits.

Acts 2:42 stated that the new converts (this was even before the Apostle Paul) “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.”  In fact, fellowship comes from the roots “feolaga” meaning “one who shares with another” and “sciepe” meaning “condition of being”, both Old English.  Therefore, to fellowship means “the condition of sharing with another”, which seems a pretty apt description.  To piggyback off the passage from Acts, fellowship happens in the midst of learning from the apostles, partaking of the Eucharist (which is a sacrament!), and praying together.  All of these things involve togetherness and intermingling of people.  Luckily, as an extrovert, I’ve never had much problem with fellowship, as I love being around people.  Meeting new people is actually one of my favorite things to do!  However, I do realize that for introverts, it can be more difficult.  Luckily, with the advent of social media, it is now easier to fellowship “not in person”, for those who may feel uncomfortable in “live” social settings”.  From chat groups to sharing Instagrams to blogging (hey!), all people can come together to fellowship in many ways.

Today, there are many ways we can fellowship.  Obviously, we can fellowship at the proverbial potluck dinner.  We can also fellowship in small group study.  Some of the best part of studying in smaller groups doesn’t necessarily come from studying scripture or a famous theologian, but from connecting with each other.  In fellowship, you learn each others joys and pains, fears and doubts, hopes and dreams.  It is something you cannot get in mere solitary reflection nor in large worship settings.  Additionally, fellowship can transpire into further things, such as grabbing food or going on a hike with someone that you may have gotten to know.  You may not even be discussing anything particularly “Jesusy”, but just because you aren’t, that doesn’t mean you aren’t fellowshipping.  People can also fellowship by serving together, but I’ll get to that at a later date!

So, go forth and fellowship!

Series of Seven: Contemplation

Contemplation.  It’s a word that has many meanings, and meaning to many.  It’s used by those who are religious and non-religious, spiritual and secular.  It has peaceful connotations, those of stillness and rest.  Yet, for many Christians, it seems to be a non-Christian thing, thought that couldn’t be further from the truth.  In fact, there are Christians who believe contemplation often relates to meditation, something which is done by Buddhists, pagans, and people who drink kombucha and do yoga…not well-minded Jesus followers!  But they’re wrong.  Contemplation is not only a Christian practice, but quite important to our faith.

As many of you may know, I love etymology.  The word “contemplation” comes from the Latin “contemplationem”, meaning the “act of looking at”.  It also relates further back to the words for “observe”.  To contemplate is to observe.  Yet, what should we observe?

Often, we think of contemplation as a quiet thing, and generally one done alone (though not necessarily so).  In Psalm 46, the psalmist says “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).  In this stillness, we can find God.  Yes, we can find him in worshiping, intensive Bible study, and serving others, but we definitely can in stillness.

In this stillness, there is also prayer.  It is the quiet prayer of supplication, not chanted corporate prayer or loud prayer of praise and adoration (which are not bad things, just different sorts of prayer), but those gentle prayers of thanksgiving, fear, and facing the unknown.  In the stillness, we can hear God (not as a voice, but as a feeling inside) when we clear our mind to observe, to contemplate, all that God has done for us.  Additionally, we can simply sit in silence, a thing that becomes more difficult each day with each passing app, tweet, text, or status update.  Just be still and listen, turn off your fears and doubts.  Go wherever you feel closest to God…it could be a forest, a beloved bookshop, a comfy couch where you live.  Go there, and make sure the space is peaceful.  Turn off your phone, turn down any glaring lights, make sure any clutter is out of sight to rid yourself of distraction, and just be.  Yes, you can talk, but be sure to listen more than you do.  You also can perhaps meditate on a Bible verse or a quote you have heard.  Let it surround you and encapsulate you.  Obviously, you can pray, as I’ve said before.  Or, you can sit in the stillness and see what happens.  Regardless of what you choose to do, in your contemplation, let Holy Spirit wash over you as you attempt to become closer to God.