Worship — My Final Word On This Controversial Issue (That Shouldn’t Really Be An Issue)

I don’t know if you know this about me, but I am an avid Jesus-worshipper. I’m in a Christian worship band that leads worship at my church every week, and am also the Worship Director on our Mission Board (or you might call it a board of directors). Because of this, I’ve had the awesome opportunity to dialogue with many people about what worship is in general, what it is to me personally, and the “climate” of worship in our world.

A well-meaning person printed off an article by Thom Schultz for me to read and placed it in my church mailbox last Sunday. Before you continue reading this, take a look at the article first, so you can see where I’m jumping off from.

Note that I will be using the terms “traditional” and “contemporary” throughout this post – neither are meant in a negative way, it’s just easier to use those terms in a description.

First off, let’s all just admit that we live in a consumerist society — rightly or wrongly, people will not buy a product, accept a philosophy, attend an event, etc. unless it caters to something they need or want. So if they find church in the traditional sense (old hymns, organists, 45min sermons, uncomfortable pews) to be boring or unfulfilling, they just won’t go. Please understand, there is just as much spiritual food to be gotten out of services like this as contemporary services — those churches still exist, with quite large congregations. But let me tell you, I’ve grown up in church my entire life, and if this was my only option as to the type/genre of worship service to attend, I probably wouldn’t go either. At least not as often. This type of older, traditional, historical service feels forced and regimented in my heart — there are much more heartfelt ways for me to express my worship and adoration for Jesus, even if it’s in my car on my way to work in the morning.

“Contemporary” churches came about, I believe, to meet a need. A desperate need. People needed to reconnect with their faith again. They needed to fall in love with worship music again. I can vividly remember the first time I heard contemporary worship music – I was 11 years old, and it was Shout To the Lord, Darlene Zscheck style. It was incredible to my 11-year-old brain that church could incorporate music I liked, and would actually listen to! (And there a passion for worship teams was born – 2 years later I joined my first worship band and have never looked back.)

Secondly, we all know that excitement is contagious — but different people express their excitement in different ways. My wondering is how does the author of the above article feel he is qualified to judge how engaged people are solely based on whether or not they are singing along, or mirroring the enthusiasm of the musicians on the platform? Simply put — he’s not. We have no idea of the state of a person’s heart; only God knows. Actually, this is a great segue into a personal anecdote.

A couple of years ago, on a holiday weekend, our church was packed. People were shoulder to shoulder in the pews. During our worship team set, I looked out at the congregation and I saw an entire pew of people (a couple of whom I knew, but a few who were strangers), sitting all together, not standing, not singing along, and looking like they had completely checked out. My mind was going a mile a minute (“What if they hate this song?” “What if they hate our style?” “What if it’s too loud?” “They’re never coming back here again”). After the service, I was approached by one of the women in that pew. She introduced herself, shook my hand, and thanked me. She said she had never been in the presence of God like she had that morning. Her family wasn’t from the area, and had come into town for the week to attend a wedding. Her mother was a regular attender at our church, so they had all come together on that morning. Her teenage daughter was standing with her, and apparently had whispered to her mother, after our set was over, that if her mother could find a church with “music like this” in her own town, she would never miss a Sunday. Do I take any credit for that? None. None whatsoever. It wasn’t the work of me or my team — it was purely the work of God in that place on that morning. But if I hadn’t stopped to speak with them, I would’ve chalked it up to just a few more people who didn’t care and who were completely checked out.

As far as the other points in the article, I have the following responses.

Professionalism – the risk when music is not of a semi-professional calibre is that it becomes a distraction, and instead of fervently worshipping, you can’t stop looking at the drummer who continues to drop his sticks, and you can’t stop hearing the keyboard player who sounds like she wore boxing gloves to church that morning. It’s really about my utmost for His highest … Jesus deserves nothing less than my best, and if my best is professional sounding music, what’s the problem?

Blare – granted, you didn’t intend to come to a rock show that morning; you intended to come to church. So I will give him that — worship bands need qualified sound technicians to keep everything sounding balanced, and even a bit understated.

Music choice – it never fails: whenever we try to move forward, someone is always slamming the brakes so hard you can hear the tires squealing. If you can sing along to a song you’ve only heard a few times on the radio, you can sing along to most modern worship songs. Some of them are a bit tricky to sing, but if you had any idea how much backlash I heard the first time I introduced “How Great Is Our God” on a Sunday morning, you’d wonder why we ever sung it again. Now it’s a classic, and a favourite at our church. Sure, some songs are easier learned than others, but it’s possible to learn them all. And when in doubt, focus on the lyrics. Are they God-centered? God-loving? God-feared? If yes, it’s appropriate, and lovely. End of story.

Anyway, I think I’ve rambled on enough. Of course Mr. Schultz is entitled to his opinion, and this isn’t a personal attack on him or any of his writings. It’s not an attack on anyone. It just seems that this topic is everywhere, and everyone has an opinion, and I don’t understand why we can’t just be. I don’t understand why we can’t just worship instead of focusing on the politics and the A/V and the song choice and how much the singer is jumping up and down (or not).

Matt Redman still said it best, even years later:
A song in itself is not what You have required / You search much deeper within

In Him,

J

Mara Wilson Writes Stuff (and makes me want to do it, too)

Remember this kid?

Yep, that’s Matilda. (Or as I would HOPE you know, actress Mara Wilson in her younger years.) Sometimes it feels like my sister and I grew up with Mara — Matilda was (and still is) one of our favourites, Mrs. Doubtfire is a classic and if you tell me you didn’t like it I have doubts about our long-term viability as friends (just kidding, kind of), and the remake of Miracle on 34th Street is my favourite Christmas movie.

Because I’m a huge geek with too much time on my hands (ha), I have this obsession with looking up “where are they now” types of things involving my fave childhood actors. (If I passed one of the kids from The Little Rascals on the streets today, I would absolutely know who they are.) So naturally when my bi-monthly viewing of Matilda came around, I Google’d Mara’s name while the movie ran in the background. And I found this woman.

 

Side note: Does anyone else think she looks a bit like Jena Malone? Anyways.

That’s Mara, all grown up. Despite what she says about herself on her blog, I think she’s just beautiful.

Being such a fan of her childhood work, I was curious not only about what she looks like now, but what she’s up to lately. I hadn’t seen her in any movies since Matilda (though she did do 2 others I haven’t seen), and it turns out there’s a good reason for that.

So as I’m reading through some of her blog entries (quietly crying inside that I probably won’t see her on the big screen anytime soon), my mind slowly started to focus on the entries I was reading. And something awesome happened.

I discovered an amazing writer. My mind goes through quite the process when I find an author I like. It’s pretty hard to impress me, so initially, no matter what I’m reading, it’s like “Catch me if you can … I dare you to give me a reason not to shut this book” (or in this case, close the tab). A lot of times, the author falls short. I give someone two pages to snag me, and if they can’t, the book is back on the shelf. (Maybe that’s not enough, but it’s usually a good test.)

If an author is good though, those two pages turn into four. Then the four becomes the entire first chapter. At that point, I start to notice I’ve been standing stock-still for a bit longer than is appropriate, and I usually end up buying the book.

It’s similar when I find Internet writers I love. I have what I call Mouse ADD — I literally can’t keep my computer mouse still for longer than 30 seconds. So usually it results in me navigating away from whatever I’m looking at. But reading Mara’s blog, the mouse only moved to scroll down the page. After literally two hours of reading, I had to stop only because I felt like I was going blind from staring at the screen for so long. And as I sat back to contemplate what I had read, I was struck by this intense urge to come over to my own blog and write something.

So Mara did a few things here:

1. She grabbed my attention, and kept it.
2. She kept me entertained for quite the lengthy period of time.
3. She gave me some things to sit back and contemplate.
4. She inspired me to write stuff of my own.

And when I think back to other authors I’ve come to love, they have all done those first three things, with varying degrees of the fourth thing. Which makes Mara Wilson another name to add to my faves.

It’s amazing that I went looking for her simply to see how adulthood has changed her appearance from the little 6-year-old I loved to watch in movies, and I found a beautiful young woman who is still so talented, but now it’s at more crafts than acting alone. I look at her blog and it doesn’t feel anymore like I’m reading Matilda’s blog. I’ve spent enough time on there now that I associate her writing with her — not a character she played a million years ago.

So here’s my little personal note to Mara — You’ve obviously made a big effort to focus your creativity on something that you love to do, and I just thought you would want to know that I came to your writing as a fan of your movies, and you’ve now made me into a fan of your writing as well. Good job — keep up the good work. 🙂

Alright, all of you — go write something. 😉

“Heaven Is For Real” – My Thoughts Post-Movie

If you’ve stepped into a bookstore at least once over the last four years, you’ve probably seen this book.

And you’ve probably heard that it has recently been made into a movie. It’s still in theatres, so if you find yourself wanting a good couple of hours at the movies, make it the next one that you go to see.

In the wake of the popularity of this new franchise (and I don’t say that negatively, but that’s exactly what it has become — a franchise), you see mixed opinions about it, and it seems that after experiencing this remarkable story (either through the book or the movie), everyone frantically turns to their pastor/church leader to grab their perspective on it, such as this guy:

This pastor is obviously incredibly convicted on the subject, but let me interject. I sat in the movie theatre tonight with two pastors who have been in ministry for over 30 years, and a soon-to-be ordained pastor friend of mine, who were just as fascinated and awestruck by the fantastic-ness of this story as I was.

David Platt (the guy in the video above) makes a point to charge pastors and leaders to show people the truth of God through the death and resurrection of Jesus, and I completely, absolutely agree with him. But in my heart, I cannot agree with the way in which Platt completely derails the entire story that is the basis behind “Heaven Is For Real”. Sure, he has some Scripture to back up his opinions, but there are just as many Scripture references that are to the contrary of what he is referencing.

“I was caught up to the third heaven fourteen years ago. Whether I was in my body or out of my body, I don’t know — only God knows.” 2 Corinthians 12:2

This was described by Paul. Or take the entire book of Revelation, just packed full of John’s experiences of Heaven, and the Divine. But then again, this is the 21st century, the age of the Internet — where everyone is an expert and everyone has an opinion. Different pastors and commentators say different things — most, I am sure, after careful prayer and studying and being in the word. The entire premise of this story puzzled me, so I did the same — I prayed, I spent some time with my Bible, and then had conversations with people who were smarter than I am, people who have made it their life’s work to study the Bible and its validity and relevance.

Am I any closer to figuring out what I think about the whole thing? Not really. I know on the outside, it sounds like a crazy story, but then again, Jesus has a reputation for dealing in stuff that seems “crazy”, like raising people from the dead and walking on water and making five loaves of bread & two fish enough to feed a crowd of thousands. Is it so far outside the realm of what I know about Jesus to think that He would give this experience to a 4-year-old? Not really.

At the end of the day, I can’t tell you what’s real or not real — you have to decide for yourself, perhaps using the same methods I did. And maybe you’ll arrive at a different answer. But don’t leave those questions unasked.

I will say this to David Platt, though. True or untrue, passing fad or timeless story, fiction or non-fiction … the book is a best-seller, and the movie has beaten out “Captain America” at the box office. People are talking. People are asking questions they may not have ever asked before. People are seeking out the truth about Heaven and Jesus and their eternal realities. That, to me, is a ministry tool. And a powerful one. It’s being used by God for something big. Don’t be so quick to discredit it.

What I’ve Learned From Grey’s Anatomy

Just an FYI, this post could’ve just as easily been titled “HOLY CRAP, DID YOU SEE THAT SEASON PREMIERE?” That was a couple of the most tense, emotion-filled 2 hours I’ve had since…well, who are we kidding, since the season finale. I know, maybe that’s a little sad, but my life just isn’t that dramatic. I mean, yes, I get to wear navy blue scrubs every day, and sometimes I even get to wear a mask (but that’s only when germs are spewing out of me), but the only time my friends and I run through the halls in a panic is…well, never. Anyway.

In case you haven’t seen it yet, I won’t spoil anything. Repeat, there are NO SPOILER ALERTS contained in this post. That would be rude.

But of course, as with a lot of Grey’s episodes, there is the vexing question of whether or not to pull the plug, what does the patient want, who gets to make that call, etc. So often we encounter a scene in a hospital room, with one of those oh-so-handsome doctors standing bedside, asking a patient’s grief-stricken family whether or not the life support should be turned off. Inadvertently, someone will ALWAYS exclaim no (and why shouldn’t they, that’s the decent thing to say, and it’s how most people feel), and again inadvertently, some piece of paper will be produced, bearing the patient’s signature and those most-hated letters: DNR (Do Not Resuscitate…is it sad that I had to Google how to spell that?), or “No Extraordinary Measures”, meaning don’t prolong anything.

But since becoming a Grey’s fan, I’ve learned this about myself: THERE IS NO FREAKING WAY I AM EVER SIGNING A FORM LIKE THAT.

I mean it. If I’m crashing, save my life, McDreamy! Don’t get me wrong, I fully understand why some people make the DNR decision, I just ain’t one of them. Seriously, save my freaking life. All family members take note. You’ve been told. My forms should read PDR (Please DO Resuscitate) and “OH PLEASE, TAKE SOME EXTRAORDINARY MEASURES”.

But all kidding aside (although I’m not really kidding), tonight’s episode made me think. If you watch the show, you’ll be familiar with the fact that there’s always an opening and closing monologue, usually spoken by Meredith. Tonight though, it was done by one of the other characters, and this is what stood out to me the most:

We don’t get to decide how we die. But we do get to decide how we live.

That blew me away, because it is SO TRUE. Death can come slowly and painfully, or in an instant, in any number of different ways. It can be painless or incredibly painful. Unfortunately, we have no say in that. But we CAN decide how we live our lives, who we love, what we do with our limited and precious time here on earth.

So take a few minutes right now and ask yourself: Is this how I want to live? Is this what I want to be working on? Is this person who I want to be loving? Is this WHERE I want to be living? If the answer is no, TAKE SOME STEPS to change it! There is no better time than right now, because right now, this moment, is the only guarantee.

I’ve heard it said that “it is at the end of a man’s life when he realizes how important his decisions were in the beginning” (yeah yeah, same applies to the ladies). Don’t allow regret to seep in through the cracks. Just don’t. Only YOU have the power to do something about your situation.

That’s all, folks. Until next time…

The Importance of Love & Family, or…”Why I’ve Been Crying Every Five Minutes For the Last Month”

My future sister-in-law is getting married next weekend, so it’s wedding fever around here lately. No complaints here, I adore weddings. If my stress level didn’t skyrocket so easily I could’ve been a wedding planner.

But anyway. With all the wedding talk and excitement and plans coming to fruition, I’ve been crying a lot lately. Not full-on bawling (well, not all the time…) but tearing up at the drop of a hat. (Not kidding. I decided to watch Beauty & the Beast a couple of nights ago and basically sobbed from beginning to end. I’m quite the case.)

But in truth, I don’t think it’s just the wedding that’s making me this way. I mean yes, it’s reflecting on the meaning and significance that a wedding brings with it – two families coming together, solemn promises that they’re in this until the end. But it’s that this is happening to someone so special to me, who deserves this and every other happiness that comes her way.

It hit me the other day, the REAL reason why I’m so emotional. It’s because subconsciously, I’ve adopted her as a sister. Yes, I do have a blood-related little sister whom I love with a huge amount of my heart, but in the past few years that Rory & I have been together, I feel as though his sister and I have developed our own kind of bond or connection. And I just couldn’t be happier that this day has come for her.

I count myself so blessed that in addition to having an amazing family, who put up with all of my crap through the years and loved me anyway, I now have an awesome second family, who have taken me in and always made me feel like part of them.

That’s all for now. Simple post.

I need a tissue.

Until next time… *sniff*

Divorce – I Just Don’t Get It

Before reading any further, dear reader, you should know this about me. I am engaged to be married to the most wonderful, supportive, talented man I’ve ever met. This is my first (and hopefully last) marriage. So needless to say, in the months leading up to my wedding, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and reflecting on the entire concept of marriage and divorce. And I’ve come to the following conclusion:

I don’t understand the concept of divorce at all.

Of course, this doesn’t apply in situations of abuse so please don’t misunderstand me: If you are being abused – be it physically, emotionally, sexually, or all of the above – get out. Get out now. Run as fast as you can and don’t look back. Abuse is no joke and I am not advocating you staying and putting up with it.

But in “less extreme” cases, I simply can’t wrap my mind around the concept of picking up and leaving. I can’t fathom how two people can go from being so madly, passionately in love to “I can’t stand being in the same room with you”.

Rory and I still have quite a bit of time before we tie the knot, but we have been exploring some things that we’d like for our special day, and figuring out how to balance our marriage ceremony to integrate both of our belief systems. So I’ve been reading a LOT (I’m loving Elizabeth Gilbert’s Commitment at the moment), and researching both traditional and creative wedding vows. Let me tell you, those things are no joke. Those promises are serious business. Here’s a sample (I think I like this version the best):

I, (name), take you, (name), to be my lawfully wedded wife/husband, my constant friend, my faithful partner and my love from this day forward. In the presence of God, our family and friends, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals, to honour and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you, and to cherish you for as long as we both shall live.

Um…yeah, those are some pretty serious promises to make to another person. Don’t get me wrong, there’s not a doubt in my mind that I can promise those things to my fiancé and mean them with every ounce of my being. What I’m saying is, I can’t see myself in a place where those promises mean nothing.

Read that again. In my own words, here’s what I’m saying. If, heaven forbid, you fall ill with a deadly disease, I’ll love you; I’ll be right there. If you have a cold, I’ll feed you soup. If you’re the healthy one and I’M sick, I’ll love you then, too, and you’ll love me (and you’d better, ’cause I love soup). If our bills are paid and we live in a gorgeous, modern, top-of-the-line house with brand new cars and the newest gadgets and “toys”, I’ll love you. And if our home sweet home is a hole in the wall barely big enough to house all of my shoes, and we have to take the bus to work, I’ll love you then, too.

But yet, so many just throw in the towel.
“My wife cheated; I’m done.”
“My husband has no idea how to manage money; I can’t do this anymore.”
Or, my personal favourite: “I just don’t love you anymore.”

In my mind: too bad. You made promises. You work through the issue if there is any way at all to do so. Did you know there’s a great big world out there with professionals called marriage counsellors? What do you think they’re there for? To tell all the happy couples what a great job they’re doing and how adorable their kids are?

After reading all of this so far, I suppose this is more of a rant on the divorcer than the divorcee. I know plenty of devoted husbands and wives who have tried desperately to make their marriages work through the toughest of times, but if the other party is not interested, I suppose there’s not much you can do.

I’d love to hear some thoughts, especially from those of you who have gone through a divorce who might feel like telling me where my thought process is so broken…

Until next time…

To blog or not to blog…

Good evening, dear reader!

Whatever twist of fate has brought you here, I welcome you. As you can see, this blog is new, and maybe you’re already contemplating navigating away. But give me a chance! I’m new. 🙂

There are a few things you should know about me.

1. I’m 25 years old.
2. I’m a bit quirky (most people just say “weird”).
3. Luckily, there is at least one person who openly embraces my quirkiness. I’m marrying him next Thanksgiving.
4. I’ve started (and ended) many blogs in the past. Theories abound as to why. I can tell you, it’s only because I get bored easily, and old blogs stagnate me.
5. My version of the human experience so far has been unbelievable. Details will follow. That’s why I started a blog.
6. My friends are the most important people in my life. I am fiercely protective of my relationships and my family, sometimes to their chagrin (and my own detriment).
7. I don’t appreciate liars, cheaters, idiots, or just plain mean people.
8. I don’t like change.

That should give you a clearer idea of what is (probably) to come. Until then…