Friday, September 18, 2009

Quite Possible the Best Contemporary Worship Song Ever Written

We are the family of God,
Yes, we are the family of God.
And He's brought us together
To be one in Him.
That we might bring light to the world.

Go make disciples of all lives
Go show them my way is true.
Tell them the wonderful story
That they might be on in me, too.

We are the family of God,
Yes, we are the family of God.
And He's brought us together
To be one in Him.
That we might bring light to the world.

Let them know life in the making
Let them know peace from above.
Show them by your own example
Of love in the family of God.

We are the family of God,
Yes, we are the family of God.
And He's brought us together
To be one in Him.
That we might bring light to the world.

Bigger and better is my love
That I have bestowed unto you.
And now it's for each one to share of,
That all things might now become new.

We are the family of God,
Yes, we are the family of God.
And He's brought us together
To be one in Him.
That we might bring light to the world.

1976 John Byron

(And I had to scour the bowels of the internet to uncover that gem, let me tell you.)

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Hurting and Healing

There's an interesting post (interesting to me anyway) on Anastasia's blog about praying for healing when it's obvious that death is near and that healing is more or less impossible. I read this passage today which is not directly about that sort of situation, but which relates nonetheless.  

For thus says the LORD: Your hurt is incurable,
    and your wound is grievous.
There is none to uphold your cause,
   no medicine for your wound,
    no healing for you.
All your lovers have forgotten you;
   they care nothing for you;
for I have dealt you the blow of an enemy,
   the punishment of a merciless foe,
because your guilt is great,
    because your sins are flagrant.
 Why do you cry out over your hurt?
    Your pain is incurable.
Because your guilt is great,
   because your sins are flagrant,
   I have done these things to you.
Therefore all who devour you shall be devoured,
   and all your foes, every one of them, shall go into captivity;
those who plunder you shall be plundered,
    and all who prey on you I will make a prey.
For I will restore health to you,
   and your wounds I will heal,
declares the LORD,because they have called you an outcast:
   'It is Zion, for whom no one cares!'
Jeremiah 30:12-17 (ESV)
It'd be hard to sum that up in a Facebook status update.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Be Still: Me and the Church

Early Sunday morning feels like deja vu rising with the dawn
Daylight's sweet relief after the night so long
Got to get to church on time, got to say a prayer and got to sing a song
Got to keep my eyes open and see what's going on

I'm up early this morning, and although it's not Sunday I'm thinking about church.  The church has always been important to me, both as a group of people and as a place.  Place in general has always been important to me.  For some reason I don't really understand, the physicality of presence means a lot to me.  That's shaping my life in a big way right now, desiring place and permanence but instead having a temporary life in a temporary place with the home I grew up in long gone.  But this is supposed to be about church, not about home.

In a way for me, church, the place, is home.  I've been longing for a homecoming ever since I first left where I grew up.  I've found myself dissatisfied, sometimes violently dissatisfied, with each church I've been a part of since leaving home.  The church we worship with now is not perfect at all.  In fact, I think the only reason I haven't left yet is that I've resigned myself to the fact that there's nowhere else to go.  I'm still holding out hope for the future to find a church that feels like coming home, a church that I can truly make my home.  Perhaps it would be better to say I was holding out hope.  I think something about this morning made me give that up, made me abandon hope.

On one hand, I want to work in the church.  The Gospel is too real to me to feel like I could do anything else.  On the other hand, I've lost hope in the church as a home.  Do I just want to work in the church to take on a project parish and make it what I want it to be?  My own little emotional playground?  I have the feeling I've done that on a smaller scale in the past while leading music.  Did I lead in the way the people needed to be led, or did I just do what I wanted to do, letting the people trail along if they will?  I don't want to fall into that trap on a larger scale.

On top of everything, the church is apparently dying.  Now, I'm not someone who really subscribes to this view, but enough people in all corners of the church are talking about the death of the church to make it something I can't ignore.  So what do I do?  I've always been at heart a mainliner, and figured that's where I'd spend my days.  Is that going to change?  Will I still have the conviction to work in the church if the church is not a place with a building with a finance office that can write me a paycheck?  Can I justify the time and money spent going to seminary if it's bound to be an investment with no chance of financial return?

Now, as I said, I don't think the church is dying, at least not as quickly and drastically as people like to say it is.  If I go to seminary I'm sure there's a pulpit somewhere that needs filling.  I guess I'm more worried about becoming a player in a game that's already ended.  Dying or not, I think odds are good that tomorrow's church will look different than yesterday's, and our established way of training leadership for the church seem to focus more on the way things have been, rather than the way things might be.

I'm going to end this post right here, rather than try to come to any real conclusion, because I don't think there is one.  Those lyrics up top are from a song I wrote about 10 years ago.  I started off with that this morning just because I'd woken up early, before everyone else in the house and was thinking about the church.  But it's funny, I think that song might be more appropriate to my current situation than I first realized.  It continues:

'Cause every second's just a grain of shifting time
Moving with the ebb and flow of ocean's tide
When all the things I meant to be are thrown to the mercy of the cold relentless sea
I'm still his and he's still mine

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

A Little Music

Nothing new here, you've heard this one before. This is Hosea's lullaby, this time with electric guitar. I just wanted to post something just to prove that I am indeed at least thinking about working on music.

Friday, March 27, 2009

Be Still: A Change of Perspective

Earlier in the year I shared that I adopted "Be Still" as a sort of motto for the year in lieu of any more concrete new year's resolution.  I took "Be still and know that I am God" as an imperative to renew my relationship with God, meeting again for the first time, so to speak.  To this end I started following the Lectionary and reading the Bible daily.  I had been reading the Lectionary on and off since sometime last year, but approached the practice with new vigor with the new year and now at the end of March I'm still going strong.

I could write all sorts about how the constant flow of scripture in my life has affected me, and perhaps I will, but now I want to address something different.  I've experienced since the new year, and in this last week in particular, a change of perspective in my spiritual life, and in my conception of worship in particular.  This change of perspective started with adopting the discipline of reading the Lectionary.

I've always had a thing for spiritual disciplines, or rather, always wanted to.  Throughout my life I've tried one thing after another.  Fasting, praying like this, praying like that, writing songs, studying theology, playing music in the church, whatever.  I've always wanted to figure out the thing to do to make myself a more spiritual person.  I wanted to figure out how to make my contribution to my relationship with God, how to hold up my end of the bargain.  I pictured God sitting there, waiting for me to get things figured out so I could be a good Christian and he could...um...give me a gold star or something, I guess.  Listen, I don't really know why I felt like I had to do all this, I just knew that I should, so get off my back about the details, ok?

As you can imagine, this approach didn't work out too well for me.  With no clue where I was going and less of an idea how to get there, I often found myself anxious, depressed, and hopeless about my spiritual life.  For some reason, along with the call to Be Still came the call to read scripture daily.  Nothing else.  No study, no prayer, just reading, just listening.  And so I did.  I stopped praying and felt ok about it.  It was time for me to stop trying to bring anything to the table other than myself.

I shared this with a friend of mine last week, about how I've set aside prayer while reading the Lectionary, and that while I was ok with that right now, I hoped that someday I'd figure out how to pray.  He and his wife recommended using the Book of Common Prayer, the Anglican liturgical handbook, since it gave a structure for prayer and also incorporated Lectionary readings.  I came home and poked around on the internet a bit and found a copy of the BCP in pdf form that I put on my iPod, along with my Lectionary pdfs, and started using it in my daily devotions the next day.

The only way I've managed to keep up daily reading as long as I have, aside from the grace of God, is by reading everyday at the same time, right as Hosea goes down for his nap at 11 in the morning.  This week I used the Morning Prayer, Rite 1 liturgy from the 1979 U.S. Book of Common Prayer.  I don't really know what I'm doing and so far don't have any guidance other than what is written in the book, so I just followed along, reading the parts of both the officiant and the people, plugging in the Lectionary readings where they're indicated, reading a randomly plucked canticle after each and praying at the end of the office, before The Great Thanksgiving.  I started a prayer list several weeks ago on the iPod, even though I wasn't praying, and now seemed like the right time to start putting it to use.  Now like I say, I have no idea if I'm doing this right, but I'm doing it anyway.

Using this outline for morning prayer this week has given me a new concept of devotion.  This is different from "solo time" or personal Bible study, which to this point have been what I thought devotions should look like.  Both put a lot of emphasis on the self, the one doing the devotions.  Solo time puts emphasis on the self being alone.  Bible study puts emphasis on the individual wrestling with scripture and coming up with something for their own benefit.  Using the Book of Common Prayer in devotion was the first time I encountered personal devotion that isn't about me personally.

The seemingly more legalistic structure of the liturgy actually has the effect of freeing me from trying to tying the value of my devotional time to what I do in it.  I know I'm going to do basically the same thing every time.  I don't need to feel the pressure to find that powerfully hitting nugget of wisdom hidden in today's scripture verses and feel guilty when I don't.  Ironically, compared to Bible study as a devotion, liturgy is less work.

I know the word liturgy means the work of the people, but I wonder if it's not more apt to think of liturgy as a framework rather than the work itself.  Maybe liturgy is the system within which work is done.  The liturgy itself isn't the important part, the important part is what happens as we work through the liturgy.  The important work being done is not my work alone, but primarily the work of Christ in which I take part through the Spirit.

The liturgy doesn't do anything itself, as opposed to the idea that diligent study does.  Too often studying can degrade into self-congratulation and reinforcement of our preexisting notions.  And even if we escape that tendency, and are truly stretched and challenged through study, that doesn't change the fact that studying is at its heart a selfish endeavor.  I actually don't think there's anything wrong with that, in its place.  We should be able to make our intellectual pursuit an act of worship, but if it is our sole act of worship I fear we put the self to close to the center.

I recently read Worship, Community, and the Triune God of Grace by James B. Torrance.  The central idea in this book is that Jesus is our worship leader.  More than that, Jesus is the one who worships for us and our worship is a response to his.  We join in his worship by the Spirit, not by our own work, not by the quality of our music or study or prayer.  Our worship is taken up into Christ's eternal worship in the Trinity.

Taking myself out of the center, envisioning myself joining into the Trinity's eternal worship rather than doing the worship myself, is freeing to me.  It is far better for my worship to be rooted in the worship of Christ than to be rooted on my own work.  When I stopped trying to pray and started reading the Lectionary that was the first step towards taking myself out of the center.  I didn't realize then that that's what I was trying to do, but now that I've stepped back I've discovered a new perspective on worship that I didn't have before.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Time

I've been finding myself short of time recently.  On the few occasions that I discover an hour or so, like last night, I lack the motivation to do anything with it.  This is officially a Rut.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Yeah, I'm a Troublemaker

Woman leading prayer in church: "In this moment of silence shout out what you're thankful that God has done in your life."

Me (whispering in Hosea's ear): "What does the sheep say?"

Hosea (very loud and confidently): "BAAAA! BAAAAAAAAAA!"