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| Hymns or choruses? Hymnals or "big screen"? Pipe organ or drums? Pews or folding chairs?
Podiums of wood or plexiglass?
The debate over the structure of worship flares again. It wasn't so long ago that a minister dared not stand behind the pulpit on Sabbath morning wearing a pastel shirt under his regulation black or dark-gray suit. And a woman's spiritual commitment was indicated by whether or not she removed her stockings for the foot-washing service. As a lifelong Christian Seventh-day Adventist who loves her church family, I've seen worship styles, rules, and regulations come and go, accompanied with heated debates and scathing rebukes from both sides. Some changes have been good; others, questionable. I admit that my worship comfort zone is influenced more by my cultural heritage than by a Scripture-based right or wrong, proper or improper. Triggered the First Murder At the turn of the first century A.D. the church's worship structure had become so rigid and cumbersome that the pleasure found in worshiping God had become lost in a maze of laws and restrictions. Along with becoming our Redeemer, Jesus came to demonstrate to His disciples how to live and how to worship the Father. When a Samaritan woman attempted to snag the Saviour into a debate on how and where to worship, He prophesied that the time would come when God's children would worship Him "in spirit and in truth" (John 4:23). Jesus was describing a radically new way of worship. I'd forgotten what His words meant until last July. You see, I "did" church one week last July. I not only went to a church building to worship God or attended a sacred service, but I "did" church. What, you ask, do I mean when I say I "did" church? Here's What Happened Let me tell you about my incredible experience. It all began more than 30 minutes before the church doors were scheduled to open. In drizzling rain, with Bibles tucked under their arms, the worshipers began lining up outside the four entrances. Their faces shone with eager anticipation. I wasn't prepared for what happened when the music began and the doors opened. Four hundred worshipers thundered forward to claim their seats, not the back rows, but the very front. I noticed a few disappointed faces when some had to settle for a place in the second or third row. (Didn't these people know that the last shall be first and the first last? Isn't that why the back rows in many churches are full while the front rows remain empty each week?) The musicians broke into a familiar chorus, one I'd learned as a child but had long since
forgotten. Then another and another. Audience members of all ages belted out the hymns of joy and salvation with I glanced at the other worshipers to see what their reactions might be, but they were so involved in their worship, none noticed but me. Then, instead of being embarrassed, the hapless young man got up and, if possible, sang with more animation than he had previous to his tumble. When the musicians shifted to a quieter prayer hymn and the pastor prayed, the worshipers reverently bowed their heads. The usual announcements followed. When the pastor asked for volunteers to help in a church work bee scheduled for the next morning, eager hands waved in the air the moment he uttered the word "volunteer." More than 100 worshipers signed on before they knew what their task would be. That they'd be helping at a church work bee didn't deaden their enthusiasm. Loud disappointed groans filled the sanctuary when the pastor had to limit the number of volunteers he could efficiently use. It didn't matter what job the pastor needed his parishioners to do, whether it be to give opening prayer or to straighten chairs after the service, the response was the same. I could tell by their faces that they didn't enlist in order to earn points with God or to assuage their guilt for past sins or from resignation (someone's got to do it!). They genuinely wanted to be chosen to serve. I saw the same degree of disappointment on the faces of those not chosen. One young woman wept when she wasn't chosen to pick up the trash after the service. "I never get picked," she said. (Can you imagine how stunned your pastor would be if on Sabbath morning volunteers were asked for to help with Vacation Bible School and the people in the first three rows leaped to their feet, frantically waving their arms and shouting, "I'll do it. I'll do it. Pick me. Pick me!") The preacher's sermon wasn't an "I speak and you listen," one. It was an interaction of
compassion, joy, and laughter between the speaker and his listeners. At the end of his presentation he asked all who When he asked who would do that, it was like a massive wave rising out of the ocean. The entire audience sprang to their feet. The only worshiper looking around to determine whether or not it was cool to respond to the minister's call was me. The loud "thank you" the worshipers gave the speaker would have warmed even Preacher Jonah's heart. Long after the last chord of the closing song faded and the "lucky" volunteers had straightened the chairs, many worshipers still hung around as if reluctant to leave the house of God. Memories "Here, this is for you, Mrs. K," she said, then placed a silk rosebud in my hand. Surprised and pleased, I thanked her and assured her, "You don't have to give me anything, honey." "I know," she said, tipping her head to one side. "I want to because you're special." Then she flashed me the widest of grins. "Don't you just love church?" I eyed the rose in my hand and remembered a 9-year-old girl who for the first time committed her heart to Jesus at a similar service. Forty-plus years later I knew that something special had happened again. As I stepped out of the hallowed place into a drizzling rain, my heart brimmed with praise. Jubilant songs still rang in my ears. The beauty of joyous innocence had opened my eyes. I hadn't only attended a church service that Sabbath morning, I'd "done" church. You too can experience a supercharged worship experience. You too can "do" church. Forget all the debates and folderol that dim your worship experience and "do" church with the primary-age children at your local camp meeting, as I did, or help out in your local primary department on Sabbath mornings. You will come away with a new vision of pure and undefiled faith, exuberant joy, and an unbridled desire to serve when and wherever needed. I promise you that God will be glorified with your simple praise. And He will glorify you (Zeph. 3:17). "Aw, come on. They're just being kids," you might say. "Hardly a new way to worship." Wasn't it Jesus who said, "You must become as little children before you can enter the kingdom of God"? Learning to worship God "in spirit and in truth" may be as simple as following a small child's lead. Kay D. Rizzo, a writer, speaker, and radio host, lives in Visalia, California. |
