If you're over 40, you like the old songs. A lot. That's why there's so many oldies stations.
I noticed that this morning. I don't listen to the radio, and I do run with the windows down, so I hear a lot of stations over a month. I recognize the music rolling out of the windows of people my age. The Boomers are redefining the layout of the radio band as much as they are anything else, and I like it when they drive by because I get an instant warm feeling from whatever song they're currently ignoring.
And it makes me wonder stuff.
Are we hardwired to learn and like music in our teens, and after that everything we like requires extra concentration? I learned to like classical in my early 20's, and it still doesn't give me a warm fuzzy.
And I learned Camptown Races and She'll be Coming Around the Mountain (with variations) and others as a child, and they're still a part of my repertoire. There's hardly any cause to sing such songs any more, but they used to be a common language across generations according to popular American myth.
Amazing Grace is like that, or it was before it fell into complete disuse. These days you hardly hear it except on the bagpipes in movies that want to create instant grief. Just as I Am used to be one of those. I still wish it were around. It's probably my favorite sentiment, and statement of grace upon which I most rely. I chose it for my wedding 20+ years ago, and still love it.
It seems to me our churches are making a profound mistake by not perpetuating the common language of song. There should be (let's say) 8 songs that are sung at least 4 times a year, and everyone should be required to learn them. Anyone who is a member of the church should be able to sing these 8 songs, at least the 1st and last verses, without an overhead, hymnal, or karoake prompter.
Simple reality teaches me that the older folk ain't going to learn the new songs easily, so if we want the barrier to entry to be low for them, we should give the benefit of the doubt to an older hymn over a newer alternative.
What would your 8 songs be?
(Over the next week, I'll be at a conference in Wash DC, so I might actually be able to comment on this thread! WooHoo! Vacation!)
Showing posts with label Worship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Worship. Show all posts
08 October, 2008
27 June, 2008
Ishi, not Baali
I was at church, and we had a visiting pastor who quoted Hosea 2:16.
He said, "Ishi," as he read it, and I was all over that. I guessed pretty quickly what I thought it meant, and quickly BlackBerry'd myself an email message so I would remember to dictionary it when I got home. Sure enough. About 1 time in 6, the word means, "husband."
This is such an arresting passage I'm going to go ahead and quote the whole thing. I don't have any big conclusions from it, but that one word was so telling to me. God found Himself betrothed to a lover who whispered Ba'al's name in her sleep. She sought Ba'al out with all her free time. She gave him little presents and the flower of her youth.
And He was God.
He made Ba'al, and could "disappear" not just him, but everything over which he was supposed to be "god." YHWH could have manipulated the wife of His youth, or overpowered her. He could rightfully demand that she call Him, "Lord Omnipotentate, YHWH." She has spent so much time adoring Ba'al, an abusive god if ever there was one, that she has taken to reacting to her Lord as if He needed to awe her with His power. She has taken, not only to worshipping Ba'al, but to calling YHWH Baali as an act of tenderness.
He dreams she will call Him, "Ishi."
He rejoices when we name Him rightly, tenderly.
Hsa 2:14-20
Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak comfortably unto her. And I will give her her vineyards from thence, and the valley of Achor for a door of hope: and she shall sing there, as in the days of her youth, and as in the day when she came up out of the land of Egypt. And it shall be at that day, saith the LORD, [that] thou shalt call me Ishi; and shalt call me no more Baali. For I will take away the names of Baalim out of her mouth, and they shall no more be remembered by their name. And in that day will I make a covenant for them with the beasts of the field, and with the fowls of heaven, and [with] the creeping things of the ground: and I will break the bow and the sword and the battle out of the earth, and will make them to lie down safely. And I will betroth thee unto me for ever; yea, I will betroth thee unto me in righteousness, and in judgment, and in lovingkindness, and in mercies. I will even betroth thee unto me in faithfulness: and thou shalt know the LORD.
He said, "Ishi," as he read it, and I was all over that. I guessed pretty quickly what I thought it meant, and quickly BlackBerry'd myself an email message so I would remember to dictionary it when I got home. Sure enough. About 1 time in 6, the word means, "husband."
This is such an arresting passage I'm going to go ahead and quote the whole thing. I don't have any big conclusions from it, but that one word was so telling to me. God found Himself betrothed to a lover who whispered Ba'al's name in her sleep. She sought Ba'al out with all her free time. She gave him little presents and the flower of her youth.
And He was God.
He made Ba'al, and could "disappear" not just him, but everything over which he was supposed to be "god." YHWH could have manipulated the wife of His youth, or overpowered her. He could rightfully demand that she call Him, "Lord Omnipotentate, YHWH." She has spent so much time adoring Ba'al, an abusive god if ever there was one, that she has taken to reacting to her Lord as if He needed to awe her with His power. She has taken, not only to worshipping Ba'al, but to calling YHWH Baali as an act of tenderness.
He dreams she will call Him, "Ishi."
He rejoices when we name Him rightly, tenderly.
Hsa 2:14-20
Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak comfortably unto her. And I will give her her vineyards from thence, and the valley of Achor for a door of hope: and she shall sing there, as in the days of her youth, and as in the day when she came up out of the land of Egypt. And it shall be at that day, saith the LORD, [that] thou shalt call me Ishi; and shalt call me no more Baali. For I will take away the names of Baalim out of her mouth, and they shall no more be remembered by their name. And in that day will I make a covenant for them with the beasts of the field, and with the fowls of heaven, and [with] the creeping things of the ground: and I will break the bow and the sword and the battle out of the earth, and will make them to lie down safely. And I will betroth thee unto me for ever; yea, I will betroth thee unto me in righteousness, and in judgment, and in lovingkindness, and in mercies. I will even betroth thee unto me in faithfulness: and thou shalt know the LORD.
20 April, 2008
Yahweh's Love Interest
The Biblical Archaeology Review has an article in this issue regarding "A Temple Built for Two." The inspiration is a little house shrine evidently showing a 2-seated throne. One of the seats they suppose to be for Yahweh, and the other for His consort, the local fertility goddess, Asherah.
The article does a fine job evaluating the possible meanings of the idol, and makes a good argument that, yes, in the local popular religion (as opposed to the intellectual religion of the priesthood) Yahweh did not abide alone. One of the chief points the article makes is that the prophets all spent reams of parchment decrying Asherah. The prophets' complaint that sanctuaries to "The Queen of Heaven" were "on every hill and under every green tree," is about as good a proof as one needs that Asherah was big medicine. The little house shrine portrayed in BAR merely gives an indication that the Israelites came up with the usual way of reconciling their conflicting deities.
The point that occurs to me while reading this article is that Yahweh is the only God I can remember who has no mate, except His people, and them as a whole. I can think of many examples of gods who are mated to other gods. I can think of gods who have been taken with individual humans. I can think of gods who have every human romantic problem. I cannot think of a single other god who mates himself to all willing humans as a single entity.
Yahweh calls Israel His wife, and mourns her departures. He brings Israel gifts, protects her from enemies, nurtures her, and makes life promises to her that are unique in all religious history so far as my memory recalls. Ours is a God Who loves inhumanly. He loves a being no human has ever imagined as an individual before, the church, with a pure grace no human has ever conjured up in any religious fiction.
As the heavens are above the earth, so His love is above our love, His intent above our intentions.
We are so much more than lucky to be so loved. Praise the Lord our King.
The article does a fine job evaluating the possible meanings of the idol, and makes a good argument that, yes, in the local popular religion (as opposed to the intellectual religion of the priesthood) Yahweh did not abide alone. One of the chief points the article makes is that the prophets all spent reams of parchment decrying Asherah. The prophets' complaint that sanctuaries to "The Queen of Heaven" were "on every hill and under every green tree," is about as good a proof as one needs that Asherah was big medicine. The little house shrine portrayed in BAR merely gives an indication that the Israelites came up with the usual way of reconciling their conflicting deities.
The point that occurs to me while reading this article is that Yahweh is the only God I can remember who has no mate, except His people, and them as a whole. I can think of many examples of gods who are mated to other gods. I can think of gods who have been taken with individual humans. I can think of gods who have every human romantic problem. I cannot think of a single other god who mates himself to all willing humans as a single entity.
Yahweh calls Israel His wife, and mourns her departures. He brings Israel gifts, protects her from enemies, nurtures her, and makes life promises to her that are unique in all religious history so far as my memory recalls. Ours is a God Who loves inhumanly. He loves a being no human has ever imagined as an individual before, the church, with a pure grace no human has ever conjured up in any religious fiction.
As the heavens are above the earth, so His love is above our love, His intent above our intentions.
We are so much more than lucky to be so loved. Praise the Lord our King.
02 December, 2007
Contra-Liturgy
I have been reading my absolute favorite theologian some more, NT Wright. I love the way he orders his arguments, and I love his priorities. So far as I'm concerned, he does as good a job of putting important things first as anyone I've read. He's a joy to read.
He's an Anglican.
That's cool. I love Anglicans, and I dearly love the Truth of Christ that he spells out so patiently and lovingly. Still, I have to admit I have trouble with his view of liturgy. He's a practitioner and mild advocate of high liturgy. He does a really good job of presenting a core Christianity that doesn't require him to dwell on liturgy, and when he does he's quite amiable about it. I respect his viewpoint deeply.
Still, after reading his stuff for a while I need to vent about the pain liturgy causes me - Anglican, Episcopal, Baptist, Assemblies of God, PCA, all of it. After all these years, I still assert we will not see all the church should be until we break through the wall of liturgy again.
Oh, I know all Christian services are allegedly "liturgical," and the only difference is whether they are "high" or "low" in their liturgy. Whether you meet in a living room or a cathedral, whatever you do is supposed to be a liturgy of some form.
Balderdash.
Allow me to quote 1 Cor 14:24-33, and you tell me where the liturgy is.
24 But if all prophesy, and an unbeliever or outsider enters, he is convicted by all, he is called to account by all, 25 the secrets of his heart are disclosed, and so, falling on his face, he will worship God and declare that God is really among you. 26 What then, brothers? When you come together, each one has a hymn, a lesson, a revelation, a tongue, or an interpretation. Let all things be done for building up. 27 If any speak in a tongue, let there be only two or at most three, and each in turn, and let someone interpret. 28 But if there is no one to interpret, let each of them keep silent in church and speak to himself and to God. 29 Let two or three prophets speak, and let the others weigh what is said. 30 If a revelation is made to another sitting there, let the first be silent. 31 For you can all prophesy one by one, so that all may learn and all be encouraged, 32 and the spirits of prophets are subject to prophets. 33 For God is not a God of confusion but of peace.
I beg you to come up with one single denomination on Earth today to which Paul might have to write anything remotely similar to this. Each one has a hymn? Each one has a lesson? Let two or three prophets speak? Let others weigh in? Let the first prophet speaking pause to allow another prophet with a "breaking revelation" to interrupt?
And these instructions are Paul's "corrections!" These are not the problem. These are the cure. In our age, we have applied the cure where there was no disease and ended up with a patient who is so "well" she can hardly speak any more.
Analogy:
I bring my car to the mechanic and tell him that it's shaking at 65 mph. A week later I pay him my money on his good word that it doesn't shake at 65 any more. And sure enough, when I get on the road the car won't go over 25 mph.
The car no longer shakes at 65, but I am emphatically not a happy customer.
Even so with liturgy.
Paul had a problem with the church in Corinth. It was not their biggest problem, by any means, but it was one that needed handling. They were so puffed up with knowledge that their meetings were circus shows, three rings rollin' 'round the clock. They had people drunk at love feasts, people interrupting, and people just flat talking in unknown tongues during the whole affair.
That's a heap o' problems.
So Paul cured them. And then he stopped. We didn't stop, though. We kept going until we got to where we are today. Paul did not tell them to restrain all worship to that led by a minister of worship. Paul did not tell them shut up and listen to one man speak - "you can all prophesy one by one." Well, you could in one of Paul's churches, but you certainly cannot in the 21st century.
My problems with the liturgy are these:
+ A man determines when the meeting will end - and makes the call before it even starts. You cannot possibly believe the Spirit always takes exactly 65 minutes to say to the church what needs to be said?
+ A man determines who will speak and what roles each will play. Could this be any more directly against scripture?
+ A man determines the content of the meeting.
Have you ever had a revelation during a church meeting? It hurt didn't it? You saw something beautiful that would have been helpful to everyone, and you had to stifle it. That feeling of pain is called "quenching the Spirit," and it's supposed to hurt. Pain is a natural warning that something is happening to you that is not good for the body.
The correct response to pain is not to ignore it, and yet that is the only option allowed us.
Ever wondered what it must be like to come to church expecting to share something sometimes, instead of receiving everything week after week after week? It feels like responsibility, and responsibility feels good.
I recommend it to anyone.
He's an Anglican.
That's cool. I love Anglicans, and I dearly love the Truth of Christ that he spells out so patiently and lovingly. Still, I have to admit I have trouble with his view of liturgy. He's a practitioner and mild advocate of high liturgy. He does a really good job of presenting a core Christianity that doesn't require him to dwell on liturgy, and when he does he's quite amiable about it. I respect his viewpoint deeply.
Still, after reading his stuff for a while I need to vent about the pain liturgy causes me - Anglican, Episcopal, Baptist, Assemblies of God, PCA, all of it. After all these years, I still assert we will not see all the church should be until we break through the wall of liturgy again.
Oh, I know all Christian services are allegedly "liturgical," and the only difference is whether they are "high" or "low" in their liturgy. Whether you meet in a living room or a cathedral, whatever you do is supposed to be a liturgy of some form.
Balderdash.
Allow me to quote 1 Cor 14:24-33, and you tell me where the liturgy is.
24 But if all prophesy, and an unbeliever or outsider enters, he is convicted by all, he is called to account by all, 25 the secrets of his heart are disclosed, and so, falling on his face, he will worship God and declare that God is really among you. 26 What then, brothers? When you come together, each one has a hymn, a lesson, a revelation, a tongue, or an interpretation. Let all things be done for building up. 27 If any speak in a tongue, let there be only two or at most three, and each in turn, and let someone interpret. 28 But if there is no one to interpret, let each of them keep silent in church and speak to himself and to God. 29 Let two or three prophets speak, and let the others weigh what is said. 30 If a revelation is made to another sitting there, let the first be silent. 31 For you can all prophesy one by one, so that all may learn and all be encouraged, 32 and the spirits of prophets are subject to prophets. 33 For God is not a God of confusion but of peace.
I beg you to come up with one single denomination on Earth today to which Paul might have to write anything remotely similar to this. Each one has a hymn? Each one has a lesson? Let two or three prophets speak? Let others weigh in? Let the first prophet speaking pause to allow another prophet with a "breaking revelation" to interrupt?
And these instructions are Paul's "corrections!" These are not the problem. These are the cure. In our age, we have applied the cure where there was no disease and ended up with a patient who is so "well" she can hardly speak any more.
Analogy:
I bring my car to the mechanic and tell him that it's shaking at 65 mph. A week later I pay him my money on his good word that it doesn't shake at 65 any more. And sure enough, when I get on the road the car won't go over 25 mph.
The car no longer shakes at 65, but I am emphatically not a happy customer.
Even so with liturgy.
Paul had a problem with the church in Corinth. It was not their biggest problem, by any means, but it was one that needed handling. They were so puffed up with knowledge that their meetings were circus shows, three rings rollin' 'round the clock. They had people drunk at love feasts, people interrupting, and people just flat talking in unknown tongues during the whole affair.
That's a heap o' problems.
So Paul cured them. And then he stopped. We didn't stop, though. We kept going until we got to where we are today. Paul did not tell them to restrain all worship to that led by a minister of worship. Paul did not tell them shut up and listen to one man speak - "you can all prophesy one by one." Well, you could in one of Paul's churches, but you certainly cannot in the 21st century.
My problems with the liturgy are these:
+ A man determines when the meeting will end - and makes the call before it even starts. You cannot possibly believe the Spirit always takes exactly 65 minutes to say to the church what needs to be said?
+ A man determines who will speak and what roles each will play. Could this be any more directly against scripture?
+ A man determines the content of the meeting.
Have you ever had a revelation during a church meeting? It hurt didn't it? You saw something beautiful that would have been helpful to everyone, and you had to stifle it. That feeling of pain is called "quenching the Spirit," and it's supposed to hurt. Pain is a natural warning that something is happening to you that is not good for the body.
The correct response to pain is not to ignore it, and yet that is the only option allowed us.
Ever wondered what it must be like to come to church expecting to share something sometimes, instead of receiving everything week after week after week? It feels like responsibility, and responsibility feels good.
I recommend it to anyone.
08 October, 2007
Celebration - An Example
I was answering KB, and got carried away. Here's what I'd recommend.
----
If I had my way, the 12 closest churches would all get together, rent the local football field, and have a potluck. This potluck happen at 7:00 AM some Sunday morning in July, and it would be a black tie affair. Everyone would bring cold delicacies worthy of a King. There would be bread and wine in the style and manner of each church on every table in wrappers saying, "Please open when asked." The placemats would have printed on them the doxology and Thou Art Worthy
Each church would bring a flag on a 10 foot pole, a unique flag that would represent their church. Each church's tables would have miniature versions of this same flag on them. Each placemat would also have a sticker on it showing another church's flag. (They would be in triplets. The placemats at Church A's table would have three stickers for church B in a row, then three stickers for church C, then 3 for D etc.)
The food would be placed on the tables, and everyone would follow their flag to a place just behind the their end zone. 6 churches would be circled around 6 flags in the south end, and 6 in the north end. Each church would be advised to place seats behind the end zone for those who were not able to stand for 90 minutes.
An MC with tophat and tails would run to the center of the field precisely at 7:00 announcing that we were here to worship our King. He would then pull a name out of the hat, and call that church to the tables in the center. They would let out a practiced cheer then walk to the center of the field while singing a chorus - into which everyone could join. A representative of that church would then stand to the mic, and deliver a 2 minute prayer of praise and allegiance to the King. Then the MC would call the next church forward.
That process would take an hour and a half.
After the last church had entered, someone with a strong and steady voice of pleasant range would lead everyone in "Thou Art Worthy." followed by a praise of God for the riches on the table, and free everyone to begin eating.
A minister (chosen by lots well prior to the meeting day) would deliver a message on the meaning of the bread, and the unity of the body of Christ. 5 minutes tops. :-) At that point, he would free the assembled body partake of the bread together. Each church would observe their customary respects toward the elements in administering to their own people. Then a second minister would follow the same protocol with the drink.
At this point, the ministers would all sit down quietly, and enjoy the meal with everyone else.
When everyone had eaten, the flag bearer of each church would be asked to return to his place in the end zone, and everyone would be asked to rally around, not their own flag, but the flag that matched their placemat sticker.
With the people all nicely mixed together, a caller would lead everyone in a responsive recitation of Psalm 122 (probably in the Message translation). After the caller spoke each line, the assembled body would shout it back to him. When the Psalm was done, and when any spontaneous shouting died down, our singer would lead everyone in the doxology.
At that point, the flags would do one more turn around the field, and as your church's flag passed you, you would fall in line behind it and head for the parking lot.
It should be right around 10:00 AM by this point, and the sun should just be starting to get too warm for black tie outdoors. I would recommend there be a couple RV's in the parking lot for people to change out of dress clothes into work clothes, and it would be time to break down the tables and chairs.
----
If I had my way, the 12 closest churches would all get together, rent the local football field, and have a potluck. This potluck happen at 7:00 AM some Sunday morning in July, and it would be a black tie affair. Everyone would bring cold delicacies worthy of a King. There would be bread and wine in the style and manner of each church on every table in wrappers saying, "Please open when asked." The placemats would have printed on them the doxology and Thou Art Worthy
Each church would bring a flag on a 10 foot pole, a unique flag that would represent their church. Each church's tables would have miniature versions of this same flag on them. Each placemat would also have a sticker on it showing another church's flag. (They would be in triplets. The placemats at Church A's table would have three stickers for church B in a row, then three stickers for church C, then 3 for D etc.)
The food would be placed on the tables, and everyone would follow their flag to a place just behind the their end zone. 6 churches would be circled around 6 flags in the south end, and 6 in the north end. Each church would be advised to place seats behind the end zone for those who were not able to stand for 90 minutes.
An MC with tophat and tails would run to the center of the field precisely at 7:00 announcing that we were here to worship our King. He would then pull a name out of the hat, and call that church to the tables in the center. They would let out a practiced cheer then walk to the center of the field while singing a chorus - into which everyone could join. A representative of that church would then stand to the mic, and deliver a 2 minute prayer of praise and allegiance to the King. Then the MC would call the next church forward.
That process would take an hour and a half.
After the last church had entered, someone with a strong and steady voice of pleasant range would lead everyone in "Thou Art Worthy." followed by a praise of God for the riches on the table, and free everyone to begin eating.
A minister (chosen by lots well prior to the meeting day) would deliver a message on the meaning of the bread, and the unity of the body of Christ. 5 minutes tops. :-) At that point, he would free the assembled body partake of the bread together. Each church would observe their customary respects toward the elements in administering to their own people. Then a second minister would follow the same protocol with the drink.
At this point, the ministers would all sit down quietly, and enjoy the meal with everyone else.
When everyone had eaten, the flag bearer of each church would be asked to return to his place in the end zone, and everyone would be asked to rally around, not their own flag, but the flag that matched their placemat sticker.
With the people all nicely mixed together, a caller would lead everyone in a responsive recitation of Psalm 122 (probably in the Message translation). After the caller spoke each line, the assembled body would shout it back to him. When the Psalm was done, and when any spontaneous shouting died down, our singer would lead everyone in the doxology.
At that point, the flags would do one more turn around the field, and as your church's flag passed you, you would fall in line behind it and head for the parking lot.
It should be right around 10:00 AM by this point, and the sun should just be starting to get too warm for black tie outdoors. I would recommend there be a couple RV's in the parking lot for people to change out of dress clothes into work clothes, and it would be time to break down the tables and chairs.
07 October, 2007
Celebrate
OK. I absolutely have to turn off KB's Impossible Dream recording. I cannot type while enthralled. [And while I'm mentioning things KB, his session with Jon Stewart is incredible, too. I know I'm supposed to be all conservative and all, and not like ol' Jon, but the man is brilliant, funny and honest. If you didn't see him gut, fillet and grill two conservative talk show hosts some time last year (I remember neither the show, nor the hosts, but I remember he single-handedly took them off the air with his one interview) then you've never seen the power of wit. Not quite Man of LaMancha stuff, but worthy of respect.]
I cannot hear The Impossible Dream without wanting to change the world all over again. And what's more, I cannot want to change the world again without imagining a way to try. I will fail, but I wouldn't bet a stale donut against me presenting this post to my pastor before too very long. Or writing a book with Celebration as its theme.
Let me start with the back story.
I went to the opera with two young couples from the church Friday night. Puccini is a little light for me, I think, but that's not much of a surprise. Granted, most people probably think having the heroine die of TB at the end of La Boheme is anything but light, but I want tragic tragedy! If I wanted conversational opera, I'd stay home and chat with my buds. I want climactic agony, and notes that reach the depths. I grant that Puccini shifted gears quickly, within the space of even a single line going from conversational to epic in tone, but when I find a composer that stays in high gear the whole way, I'll have found true love. The fever-pitch of Impossible Dream sings right to my heart.
The interesting thing about the evening, though, was the people with whom I attended. I was dressed in my best business casual, since I own nothing else. I wish I could have been more dapper because the sisters were dolled to the nines, and pumped. Both of their guys were dressed smartly, but trepidacious. They didn't get it. Opera was to them both boring and intimidating, and they made it clear that they would rather be watching football while we the torture was still hours away.
OK, so young men are boors and act boorishly to their significant others. This is not news. I think I was able to keep their macho negativity in check and everyone enjoyed the evening, even the poor disappointed ladies. (It's really cool being the old guy.) What's more, I think lessons were learned by all.
But there's something bigger in this than just boorish guys and disappointed ladies. Those ladies were living out an important part of being human that those young men failed to perceive. When we say, "Moses," we tend to think of a certain 10 (or maybe 630-ish) commands, and that is appropriate. Still, there are two other things I wish we'd think of when we remember him, Worship and Celebration.
Worship because of the tabernacle. Every provision of God for all of history is portrayed in that tabernacle and its duties. Huge pages of Leviticus are taken up in the description of that badger-hide tent, because it was a mobile memorial of the exact ministry of heaven. Hidden within the lists of things the tabernacle did for Israel, things the priests did for the tabernacle, and things the people did with the tabernacle was everything the Father, Son, Spirit and bride are doing today and will do forever. Displayed before Israel was everything the Son would do on earth, and everything He continues to do in heaven.
The law tells us about God, but the tabernacle tells us about relating to God. The one teaches us His holiness, and the other teaches us His care. When we balance the teaching of the law and the tabernacle, we need not argue that our God was nice even in the old testament. His care cannot be missed.
Celebration because the largest portion of Israel's interaction with God was celebratory. Almost 2/7's of every obedient Israelite's life was spent celebrating. Every 7th day and every 7th year and every 7th - 7th year + 1 (every 50th year) was spent celebrating the end of God's labors and end of their own. And 7 times every single year, Israel celebrated some victory of God's, both visible and invisible. Celebrating the Passover, for example, was celebrating the moment of deliverance from Egypt. At the same time, though, it was celebrating the yet-to-come deliverance of all God's people from sin forever in the Lamb.
Dressing up for a night of high entertainment is a deep part of being humans. Celebrating each other, high art, and the Most High God all spring from the same fount of God's image within us - or could if only we had the imagination. If the Israelites could build booths to God and in their millions shout at once with upraised palm-branches to God, could we not do something high and glorious to celebrate our Ascended Lord of Life? Could we not conceive of a celebration to transcend weekly liturgies, and declare with exuberance and passion the glory of the Reachable Star?
Our churches languish because we fail to reach for God, to declare Him in all the richness we can risk. Until we relate to Him in holiness, worship and celebration together, we'll remain boorish young brothers, afraid to leave behind our veneer of machismo. We'll pass the years of our Christian walk stuck in our blue-jeans and t-shirt relationship to the Most Elegant God, hoping He'll just accept what we find courage enough to give Him.
But one liturgy's not good enough for the God of all variety, is it?
Let's find a way to reach for true celebration of Him.
I cannot hear The Impossible Dream without wanting to change the world all over again. And what's more, I cannot want to change the world again without imagining a way to try. I will fail, but I wouldn't bet a stale donut against me presenting this post to my pastor before too very long. Or writing a book with Celebration as its theme.
Let me start with the back story.
I went to the opera with two young couples from the church Friday night. Puccini is a little light for me, I think, but that's not much of a surprise. Granted, most people probably think having the heroine die of TB at the end of La Boheme is anything but light, but I want tragic tragedy! If I wanted conversational opera, I'd stay home and chat with my buds. I want climactic agony, and notes that reach the depths. I grant that Puccini shifted gears quickly, within the space of even a single line going from conversational to epic in tone, but when I find a composer that stays in high gear the whole way, I'll have found true love. The fever-pitch of Impossible Dream sings right to my heart.
The interesting thing about the evening, though, was the people with whom I attended. I was dressed in my best business casual, since I own nothing else. I wish I could have been more dapper because the sisters were dolled to the nines, and pumped. Both of their guys were dressed smartly, but trepidacious. They didn't get it. Opera was to them both boring and intimidating, and they made it clear that they would rather be watching football while we the torture was still hours away.
OK, so young men are boors and act boorishly to their significant others. This is not news. I think I was able to keep their macho negativity in check and everyone enjoyed the evening, even the poor disappointed ladies. (It's really cool being the old guy.) What's more, I think lessons were learned by all.
But there's something bigger in this than just boorish guys and disappointed ladies. Those ladies were living out an important part of being human that those young men failed to perceive. When we say, "Moses," we tend to think of a certain 10 (or maybe 630-ish) commands, and that is appropriate. Still, there are two other things I wish we'd think of when we remember him, Worship and Celebration.
Worship because of the tabernacle. Every provision of God for all of history is portrayed in that tabernacle and its duties. Huge pages of Leviticus are taken up in the description of that badger-hide tent, because it was a mobile memorial of the exact ministry of heaven. Hidden within the lists of things the tabernacle did for Israel, things the priests did for the tabernacle, and things the people did with the tabernacle was everything the Father, Son, Spirit and bride are doing today and will do forever. Displayed before Israel was everything the Son would do on earth, and everything He continues to do in heaven.
The law tells us about God, but the tabernacle tells us about relating to God. The one teaches us His holiness, and the other teaches us His care. When we balance the teaching of the law and the tabernacle, we need not argue that our God was nice even in the old testament. His care cannot be missed.
Celebration because the largest portion of Israel's interaction with God was celebratory. Almost 2/7's of every obedient Israelite's life was spent celebrating. Every 7th day and every 7th year and every 7th - 7th year + 1 (every 50th year) was spent celebrating the end of God's labors and end of their own. And 7 times every single year, Israel celebrated some victory of God's, both visible and invisible. Celebrating the Passover, for example, was celebrating the moment of deliverance from Egypt. At the same time, though, it was celebrating the yet-to-come deliverance of all God's people from sin forever in the Lamb.
Dressing up for a night of high entertainment is a deep part of being humans. Celebrating each other, high art, and the Most High God all spring from the same fount of God's image within us - or could if only we had the imagination. If the Israelites could build booths to God and in their millions shout at once with upraised palm-branches to God, could we not do something high and glorious to celebrate our Ascended Lord of Life? Could we not conceive of a celebration to transcend weekly liturgies, and declare with exuberance and passion the glory of the Reachable Star?
Our churches languish because we fail to reach for God, to declare Him in all the richness we can risk. Until we relate to Him in holiness, worship and celebration together, we'll remain boorish young brothers, afraid to leave behind our veneer of machismo. We'll pass the years of our Christian walk stuck in our blue-jeans and t-shirt relationship to the Most Elegant God, hoping He'll just accept what we find courage enough to give Him.
But one liturgy's not good enough for the God of all variety, is it?
Let's find a way to reach for true celebration of Him.
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