:: in.a.mirror.dimly ::

When trying to figure out what I should give up for Lent, I’ve decided to make a list of what I can’t live without and to pick one item from that list. However, this season I ran into an interesting twist.

I began to think of what I’m longing for—what I lack and desire but have not been able to find.

My list of things I can’t live without would include my computer, the internet, social media, coffee, nice pens, nice journals, etc. However, I realized that this Lent I needed to create some boundaries in order to cultivate space where certain things could happen that have not been happening lately.

I think my professional life has some decent boundaries in and of itself, but the problem is that my professional life has crept into my personal time. Since I’m working on writing and speaking full time, it’s very hard to know when to stop—and I rarely stop once evening comes.

My wife always looks at me in shock on the few occasions when I sit on the couch reading a book. That is not good.

I need to stop more. I need to create some boundaries from the internet and my work. I need sacred space.

While I admire those who are giving up social media tools such as Facebook and Twitter for Lent, my larger problem is when I fritter my time away on social media, blogs, and web stuff in the evening when I should relax, pray, read, or let a rabbit climb all over me. I don’t feel like these things invade my professional life too much, but they are a problem at home.

So this Lent I’m creating two boundaries.

The first is a space of roughly 20 minutes each day for worship. This means worship music, prayer, or whatever. Some of this needs to be time specifically set apart for worship without any other distractions, but I’m also planning to focus on playing worship music while working throughout the day.

The other is a 6 PM internet cut off time. After 6 PM I am not allowed online, save for the few occasions when I’ll have to check my e-mail for something important. Even then, I’ll only use my wife’s computer where I don’t have any social media or blog settings saved—and it’s frittering my time away on social media and blogs that I’m far more worried about.

It’s already been wonderful. I fought off the urge last night to go online, even if Lent hadn’t begun, and enjoyed reading and journaling for a few hours. One rabbit hopped onto my lap and furiously licked my jeans and the pillow next to me.

I have a feeling that Lent is going to be wonderful for my soul… and my rabbits.

My church celebrates communion each Sunday and follows it with a time of prayer and songs of worship. It’s always deeply moving and powerful, standing in stark contrast to the first half of the service that is fine, but doesn’t affect my spirit so deeply.

I don’t intend to be critical of one part of the service over another. Simply put: I’m moved by one part and not so much by the other. It just happens.

Perhaps some things are best left unexplained, but when I think about the communion table and the celebration of the life, death, and resurrection of Christ, I’m reminded of what some in my family have described in their approach to church: gathering around the person of Jesus. I find it striking that communion moves us around Jesus in both word and deed, acting out his saving work, confessing our sins, and then drawing near to worship in gratitude.

This is highly significant, as Jesus essentially ensured that when we gathered as Christian communities we would focus directly on him and his saving message. Maybe we don’t need to roll out the bread and juice each week, but the one essential should be Jesus himself.

“Does this focus on Jesus?” becomes our litmus test in determining the value of all we do. We may want to focus on truth and the Bible, but unless that truth is the truth of Christ and the Bible as it leads to Christ, we have only succeeded in putting together a nice service, rather than a gathering around Jesus.

That helps me a lot. It keeps things simple. It makes me realize that we have included communion services in our worship because it’s hard to screw up, to make it about ourselves. It’s quite hard to break bread and then think about the latest theology debate or political campaign.

When we participate in this sacrament that has endured for 2,000 years, we are tapping into a reminder that Jesus himself instituted. He didn’t leave us with a Bible and tell us to preach from it, though there’s nothing wrong with that. He told us that our gatherings should focus on him, and he provided a visual aid just in case we ever forgot.

After participating in a variety of church meetings over the years, I wanted to share a little theory I’ve been working on based on some experiences, some ongoing thoughts, and some conversations. I don’t want this to devolve into whining or castigating everyone who doesn’t meet whatever my standard may be.

I’d like to offer these thoughts as four goals for every church, not as judgments of what we are or are not doing. These are things that are worth pursuing. I’d like to know what you think of this and whether it may help us sharpen our focus as we gather together.

I think if a church can do these four things, then it’s on track with the Kingdom of God and the general trajectory of scripture:

Worship

Worship is the one thing that we know churches should do. Sometimes our worship veers a little too much toward our own experiences of God, but it is important for Christians gathered together to worship God first and foremost. Jesus is the head of the church, and therefore we enter his presence with the praise and thanks that he is due. Worship can take place in music, spoken word, prayer, or other acts in community.

Fellowship

Whether fellowship with God and fellowship with one another, churches should be drawing near to God and in the process of meeting God they will find their unity with one another. Not every church that worships God authentically moves into fellowship with God, but it is often the aim of most churches to both worship and to meet with God when they gather.

Transformation

While it’s wonderful to have fellowship with God and one another, meeting God should push us toward the next step of allowing God to transform our lives, to free us from sin, and to empower us to live holy lives. Fellow believers have the important role of building one another up and making sure that we leave our gatherings with greater freedom and in deeper commitment to God.

Service

When we meet our God who transforms and empowers us, the next logical step is to join him in his work among others. This could include serving fellow believers, but should not be limited to that. The church that meets God and experiences his healing power needs to be willing to share it with others. If that’s not happening, then we need to ask why.

Final Thoughts

I think most churches try to do at least two or three of these things well, but all four are necessary for our communities to become outposts for God’s Kingdom. When we talk about why we gather together as Christian communities, I think these are the four categories that should drive our prayers, thoughts, and plans.

Each piece flows from the other. If we’re missing one piece of this, we aren’t fully embodying the Kingdom of God in our churches.

Continuing my meditations on the book of Romans…

Though the majority of the Jews rejected Jesus as Messiah and the promise of God has been extended to Gentiles, the Lord has not rejected his people. He has saved a remnant. They are saved by God’s free and undeserved kindness. Many Jews have been seeking God’s favor, but his kindness is not based on merit, but rather God’s purposes in election. Only those enabled by God could respond to him.

In God’s plan to make salvation available to all people, he appointed Paul to carry the Gospel to them. However, even that calling aimed to spark jealousy among the Jews. God had not forgotten them.

God isn’t done with the Jewish people, as their lineage from Abraham is still important. Paul is hopeful for the day of salvation still coming for the Jewish people.

Since salvation comes by God’s mercy and the cutting off of some Jewish branches, Paul warns the Gentiles from thinking too highly of themselves. They should fear the possibility of falling away. God is kind to those who continue to trust in his kindness, but he is also severe to those who disobey.

God is both severe and kind, patient and decisive, cutting off and preserving. It would seem every time the Jews and Gentiles thought they had God’s plan figured out, Paul revealed new aspects of it that would seem to smash all systematizing. God has a plan and purpose in election, humans make choices they are responsible for, and those in Christ are both safe from sin and in danger of choosing to fall away.

The appropriate response to God comes at the end of this chapter: worship. Hold the truth we know about God out there, but celebrate God and the mercy that comes through the salvation offered by Christ. The last thing God needs is to be twisted and misrepresented by finite humans.

Worship is the place for humanity, whether always part of God’s plan or an addition grafted in.

I’m not much of a musician. I can strum chords. I can’t tune a guitar, pick notes, or read music.

But I’ve been willing to pitch in where I can, and so for years I lead worship in youth group, college groups, my home church, and in many other gatherings. My lack of musical ability bred a tendency to avoid hymns.

I didn’t get hymns. They were hard to sing, hard to play, and sounded dated. I resisted bringing them into my sets, opting to toss the hymn-lovers a bone with a jazzed up version of an old standard. In fact, I only played a hymn if I could fit it into my style.

Five years ago I hung up my guitar. I was through with the Sunday morning worship production, but on a larger scale, I began to see myself more as a writer than as a worship leader—certainly not a musician. I may strum my guitar from time to time, but for this season of my life, I don’t see the guitar fitting into it.

And this brings me to the odd thing I realized about a year or two ago.

I was listening to the Passion Hymns CD, and I realized that years of attending conservative churches had implanted a fairly long list of hymns into my brain. They were part of me—and I liked it. In fact, I worried that I may attend a church where my own hypothetical children would not be grounded in the classic hymns of the faith.

That sense of gratitude and appreciation for classic hymns has only strengthened. I toss in the word “classic” so as to denote the enduring hymns that have stood the test of time and find their way into the regular play list of most congregations. At least those who still sing the old hymns. I’m thinking of songs such as “Blessed Assurance,” “On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand,” and “Come Thou Fount.” Calling a song a hymn doesn’t make it classic, but there certainly are many classic hymns that we would do well to know, sing, and even study.

I remember that Brian McLaren once wrote an open letter to those who write worship songs. He criticized the huggy, sentimental nature of many contemporary worship songs. In addition, many contemporary songs are little more than a scramble of “worshippy” words and phrases that are typically lifted from hymns and arrayed in a sequence that doesn’t always make sense. In fact, there’s a recent worship song by a prominent worship leader that I can’t even figure out…

And so before I lose myself in whining, here are a few thoughts about the lessons of hymns and then some reasons to write contemporary hymns that will endure the test of time:

What Classic Hymns Teach Us

Classic Hymns Have a Narrative

For starters, classic hymns have a poetic narrative that binds them together. There is a progression and development of thought. I once led worship with a guy who loved hymns. He couldn’t bring himself to play the first and last verses of a hymn because he felt like we were missing out on key elements of the narrative. There is a complexity and direction to the lyrics that I have come to appreciate.

Whether telling the story of the cross, the perseverance of the saints, or celebrating a particular theme, hymns have a story to tell that takes us beyond a feeling or experience. While there are exclamations of joy, wonder, and gratitude, the overall narrative of classic hymns converges with God’s salvation narrative.

Classic Hymns Have God-Centered Theology

Hymns certainly touch on one’s personal experience with God as many contemporary songs are skewered for emphasizing, but in the classic category there is a strong emphasis on the work of God, with the song writer/singer playing a significantly smaller role. For example, the song “And Can It Be” has a strong personal dynamic, but the overall focus is the saving work of God.

There are many good Christian songs with Christian themes and rallying cries to ministry. However, they aren’t exactly worship songs per se. At their best, they declare allegiance to God, but at their worst they betray a self-centered fixation on what we are going to do for God. I think we’re better off celebrating what God does and the ways God uses us. We can be part of the picture, but a classic hymn doesn’t place the singer on center stage.

Why We Need New Hymns

Some Hymns Have Dated Theology

Many classic hymns are focused on heaven, and who can blame them. Heaven is a great place, and so they end with some kind of transport into glory. However, if you’ve been following the buzz these days about heaven and our eternal future with God, there are many scholars who are calling such pictures into question to a certain degree. For instance, in Surprise by Hope, NT Wright asserts that the point of scripture is God’s coming to earth (a la Revelation 21:3) rather than beaming us up to heaven.

This means the trajectory of many hymns misses a key element of scripture. This doesn’t negate their value or even make them “wrong.” Rather, we have overstated the parts of scripture where believers leave earth to be with Jesus at the expense of God’s plan to one day return and to restore creation. In addition, our understanding of the Kingdom of God has developed over time, and so it will be crucial to see this renaissance in the Kingdom theology of the NT reflected in contemporary songs.

We Have a Limited Number of Hymns

There are two songs that drive me bonkers. One is “This is the Day” after the church I attended in college played that song at the start of EVERY SERVICE. When I shared my issue with a guy in the choir, he looked at me in utter disbelief. “But, but, that’s how we start our service!”

The other song is “Great is Thy Faithfulness.” I know you’re probably shocked. I probably shouldn’t even call myself a Christian if I feel that way about it…

I know it’s a great song. The words are awesome. I just can’t take it. Soooo many churches sing it, and it became the unofficial school song of my college because… well… we didn’t usually sing the official “school song.”

And there we have a problem. There are only so many classic hymns out there. So even if we gave in to the old-timers and crooned hymns from start to finish each Sunday, we would only wear our congregations out on the classics. There’s only so many sets we can do 52 weeks each year before hitting some repeats.

We Need Modern Hymns That Celebrate God’s Work Today

God is at work in our congregations, our communities, and all over this world, and so our songs of worship should celebrate God’s provision, faithfulness, and redemption. On a few occasions over the years I welled up so deeply in gratitude to God that I actually wrote songs and poems in response. These are kept under lock and key, but for those with the talent to pull it off, we need fresh celebrations of God’s work.

It’s Not About the Music…

Before I take myself too seriously with this discussion, I should end with a note about the place of worship music today. It’s nothing new to say that our lives should be offerings of worship to God. Worship extends into all areas of our lives, even if we also need to set aside specific times to pray and sing in worship of God.

The way we fight over our music in church, you’d think the existence of God was at stake. I don’t think we should be surprised that in a world with so many niche markets and strong brand loyalty to music that our churches are a battleground over music styles and songs. We should expect that.

When one pastor told me about the conflict in his church over the selection of music, I suggested, “Why not drop the music altogether for a period of time and explore other avenues of communal worship?” He didn’t of course because  music has become an essential for most Christian gatherings. We can’t imagine gathering for worship without music.

While I see the value of worship music and love it dearly, I feel like it’s taken on an inflated role in our congregations today. I’m far more interested in a congregation moving forward in God’s mission to the world than fretting over… frets.

I used to care about the piano drowning out my guitar, but now I can’t believe I was such a petty jerk. Our world has much bigger problems, our Gospel message is far more compelling, and our mission remains urgent.

We need workers in the harvest fields.

Worship and music have a place among the people of God as they go about God’s work, but the amount of time, worry, and energy given to our worship music belies our deeper problem. We have too much riding on one piece of the puzzle, and thereby reject other key pieces we need desperately.

I hope and pray that I’ll be able to continue singing the classic hymns as well as some wonderfully creative new songs that celebrate God’s works. However, more importantly, I pray that one day we’ll be so amazed at the splendor of God and the mighty ways that he has used us that we’ll be singing his praises with hardly a thought as to its form.

For further thought…

If you’re curious about a next step for writing “classic hymns” today, have a listen to David Crowder’s songs. Not all of them work for congregational worship, not all of them will be classics, but he’s blending the old with the new and dreaming up fresh, poetic expressions in his lyrics. He offers a good place to start.