Here are my thoughts...
What if Jesus were here?
I get accused quite frequently of becoming a curmudgeon. I
suppose I am. But I am also a man of intense belief and passion. I am
passionate about doctrine and liturgy and adhering to what our earliest fathers
gave us as the basis for our Faith.
I get burdened and sometimes –many times- angry at what I
perceive are slights against the Faith we were entrusted by those fathers. It’s
easy to do when we see how it gets misused and mistreated these days.
I was thinking this morning about what modern Christianity
has become. We interpret Jesus in our own way and make him fit our needs. This
is dangerous. One of the most effective and impacting books I ever read was In His Steps by Charles M. Sheldon. The
book’s subtitle is actually more well known. “What would Jesus do?” It became a
force for living out the gospel when it was written over 100 years ago and has
sold 30,000,000 copies. It was resurrected about 20 years ago with a movie and
a soundtrack and a crass marketing program, replete with all the latest trendy
things including those stupid silicone wrist bracelets that said “WWJD?”
There is an inherent problem with answering that question
for ourselves...we can easily decide the answer, regardless of the facts we
have to back it up. Jesus isn’t physically here to ask. I have an image of
Jesus in scripture and I know how I want Him to be in any situation, therefore
I can extrapolate what it is I think he
might do and decide to say emphatically “This is what Jesus would do!” The
problem is, there is often no basis in fact or in scripture for my decision. I
have created a Jesus of my own making and I have put my words in His mouth and
I have declared that my answer to “WWJD?” is accurate and since it’s what Jesus
would do, if you don’t agree with me, you aren’t just against me...you’re against Jesus.
Two situations bring this to mind and demonstrate this
issue. One is the various forms of “worship” that are prevalent in the Church
today. The other is the current border crisis.
I want to address both.
First, and perhaps easiest, is worship. I’ve said this
before, so it’s no surprise to readers here...most praise and worship makes me
sick. Seriously, internally, queasy. Like “I need to run out of here before I
puke and / or punch someone / something right now.” Nothing enflames my suspicions like the trusty phrase “Ushering
in the presence of God” or “Feel the presence of the Lord.” This is always
spoken by a pastor, either a “worship pastor” or a “senior pastor” (not to be
confused with a “resource pastor” a “buildings and maintenance pastor” a “Kitchen
pastor” or a “stewardship pastor” –the guy who counts the money and keeps the
records of tithes- or any of the other pastoral positions created by the senior
pastor to give a cushy, tax-break-providing job to a buddy) But this is the
very guy who will also remind you that God is omnipresent. His presence is
everywhere at one time. So he was already here, and you needed this emotionally
driven, pabulum-and-breast-milk flavored music to remind you of this.
The lights go dim...or are always dim, causing your focus to
be affixed on the stage and it’s performers. The music comes up, cued by a “worship
leader” who tells you to “stand to your feet this morning!” No thanks, snapperhead,
I’ll get to the standing part after lunch. Then he outlines how worship is
supposed to look on his watch. “Put your hands together!” or “Lift your hands
and praise Him!” or “Lets come into His presence!” Thanks pal, I thought I was going to a car
wash until you reminded me.
Then the swaying begins. The glassy-eyed, hand-waving like a
teen-aged girl hearing a ballad at a Selena Gomez concert. Who can help but to
feel all “worshippy and praisy” when this music / setting / lighting is
happening all around you?
Me. That’s who.
I’ve always wondered and frequently imagined what it would
be like if Jesus actually showed up in the flesh. If He walked into the
twenty-somethings in their praise mosh-pit or got bumped in the head by the arm
of a swaying dervish caught up in the enraptured emotion of worshipping. (This
has actually happened to me, I got smacked in the head trying to get to my seat)
I’ve wondered what my reaction to seeing His face would be.
It won’t be this:
I think if Jesus were to walk into a room on a Sunday
morning, my first reaction would be to fall flat on my face and lay silent and
still. What could I say? What words do I have to add to this moment? What can I
add to the presence of Jesus? Nothing.
It would be obscene to try. yet that’s what we see Sunday after Sunday...”worship
leaders” trying to “usher in” the presence of God, forgetting that it never
left, and then trying to orchestrate our response to it. It’s not a Justin
Beiber concert. It’s the presence of Jesus Christ. Imagine He is standing here
where you can see Him...physically touch Him. Now...start singing one of those
songs about how you’re his buddy and how you long for Him and how desperate you
are for Him. Declare that friendship you keep bragging about. I don’t know about
others, but I find it hard. I would find it hard to do anything except fall to
the ground, lay out flat, and be entirely silent. Because I might miss
something...anything. I don’t want to speak over Him. I don’t want to babble to
Him about our relationship. If I am truly in the presence of the King of Kings
and the One who allowed himself flayed open like a side of beef for my sin...then
my response is wonder, and wonder is too big for words. I’d weep. I’d smile. I’d
tremble. I’d be so quiet and so still I could hear Him breathing. I’d wash his
feet with my tears.
But I wouldn’t react like I was on a contact high at a
Grateful dead concert.
And NOBODY would dare tell me how I should respond.
The presence of God brings AWE. Awe is not a word you use on
a roller-coaster at a theme park. Awe is what a blind man would say if he awoke
one morning to find himself standing on the shore of the Atlantic and he
suddenly could see. Awe is what I felt the night my daughter was born. Awe is
peering through the Hubbell telescope at the heavens that you knew were there,
but could never conceive in your mind.
That is what worship is like.
I’ll close with this (sadly) true story...A friend of mine
was in church during the worship time and felt the urge to go to another friend
and give her a hug. She approached this woman and wrapped her arms around her.
(For the record, they were VERY good friends so this was not some random occurrence)
The woman hugged her and said “I love you” and the other woman turned to her
with a hideously angry look and hissed “Don’t you EVER interrupt me when I’m worshiping!” My only comment here is
that she was worshiping alright...it just wasn’t God she was worshiping.
I think I’ll leave the borders for tomorrow. Because I have
a lot to say there too.
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