Sunday Thoughts
I've been reading Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer by C.S. Lewis for quite some time now. I picked it up for only $3 this summer while I was passing through Gatlinburg, TN at one of those Discount Christian Book Warehouses. I've pretty much been reading this 120 page book for about a month and a half now. You might wonder why it's taking me so incredibly long to read this short book? I only read it during church (which might be irreverant, I know, sorry). The last C.S. Lewis book I read, Till We Have Faces, was read only in the gym (which was not as difficult as one might imagine, I actually got quite used to reading whilst on the elliptical machine). I feel kind of guilty because I probably should be giving Lewis my full attention, not to mention the material I'm reading. It's a little ridiculous that it's taking me so long to read Letters, not to mention a little annoying because I end up having to reread parts so I can refresh my memory. I plan on finishing it up in the next day or two...outside of church.
This morning I woke up and found myself not really wanting to go to church. My reluctance to go really wasn't any reflection on my desire to spend time worshipping God. The church I'm attending right now simply exhausts me and I often find myself so distracted during service that I've taken to reading during the hour teaching instead of listening and trying to gain something. Sitting in church this morning, it became clear to me that I really need to go somewhere else to worship. I began attending this church in January. I liked it fine for a while, but then I guess I began to be my judgmental self (something I'm not too proud of) and I turned to picking apart every thing. This summer I thought, "Well, since I'll only be in Palm Bay for one more year and I'm tired of church hopping, it will be ok if I just stay here until I move. Then I can find the perfect church." Ok, I know that no church is perfect. But, I am tired of the Hollywood church I'm currently attending, and I want to go somewhere else. I don't want the bright lights, modern worship, and celebrity pastor any longer. I want to go back to where I came from. Funny how I've come full circle.
While sitting in church, I began flipping through the read pages of my book and rereading passages that I've underlined, starred, or put smiley faces by. This passage struck me:
It looks as if [Anglican clergymen] believed people can be lured to go to church by incessant brightenings, lighenings, lengthenings, abridgements, simplifications, and complications of the service...Novelty, simply as such, can have only an entertainment value. And they don't go to church to be entertained. They go to use the service, or, if you prefer, to enact it. Every service is a structure of acts and words through which we receive a sacrament, or repent, or supplicate, or adore. And it enables us to do these things best--if you like, it "works" best--when, through long familiarity, we don't have to think about it. As long as you notice, and have to count, the steps, you are not yet dancing but only learning to dance. A good shoe is a shoe you don't notice. Good reading becomes possible when you need not consciously think about eyes, or light, or print, or spelling. The perfect church service would be one we were almost unaware of; our attention would have been on God. But every novelty prevents this. It fixes our attention on the service itself; and thinking about worship is a different thing from worshipping...A still worse thing may happen. Novelty may fix our attention not even on the service but on the celebrant. You know what I mean. Try as one may to exclude it, the question "What on earth is he up to now?" will intrude. It lays one's devotion to waste. There is really some excuse for the man who said, "I wish they'd remember that the charge to Peter was Feed my sheep; not Try experiements on my rats, or even, Teach my performing dogs new tricks."
I felt like Lewis was writing those words specifically for me. I love love love when I read something that I wholeheartedly connect with that I feel like the author was able to see inside my mind and put in writing that which I could not find words to accurately articulate. As much as I've been guilty of wanting to get away from the "traditional" church service I grew up attending at a very traditional United Methodist church, I can recognize now that I was completely unaware of the service. My attention wasn't on the service, it was on God. Ever since my move to Miami for college, I've been attending churches where the focus is on the service, not God. I've been attending services where the worship team coordinates their outfits and the musicians get solos. I've been attending services with fancy, elaborate power point presentations with fill in the blank sermon notes (where sermon note binders are for sale in the bookstore). I've been attending church services where you have to apply and audition to serve in music ministry and where hundreds of church goers flee the sanctuary in order to stand in an insanely long line at the media booth to purchase DVDs of CDs of the morning's service. I have often found myself asking, "What on earth is he up to now?" when the pastor begins another sales pitch or when an electric guitar solo kicks in. I have sat amazed at how the masses adopt, without question, whatever is said from the pulpit or in small groups.
[[Well, I probably am sounding pretty judgemental right about now. I would like to say that while I personally am finding fault with my church, there is a lot of good, too. For instance, hundreds of church goers came together and fed 3,000 people in the community this last week who were severely affected by Hurricane Frances. Hundreds of people came together and went out cleaning up yards and sawing up trees. The church definitely welcomes hundreds of people, right where they're at, often times people who haven't ever been to church before (or who are trying to return after many years of staying away).]]
All this to say, I want to go to another church.
I will leave you readers (those of you who have read until this point) with another quote from Letters:
We may ignore, but we can nowhere evade, the presence of God. The world is crowded with Him. He walks everywhere incognito. And the incognito is not always hard to penetrate. The real labour is to remember, to attend. In fact, to come awake. Still more, to remain awake.
I love that...The world is crowded with Him.
This morning I woke up and found myself not really wanting to go to church. My reluctance to go really wasn't any reflection on my desire to spend time worshipping God. The church I'm attending right now simply exhausts me and I often find myself so distracted during service that I've taken to reading during the hour teaching instead of listening and trying to gain something. Sitting in church this morning, it became clear to me that I really need to go somewhere else to worship. I began attending this church in January. I liked it fine for a while, but then I guess I began to be my judgmental self (something I'm not too proud of) and I turned to picking apart every thing. This summer I thought, "Well, since I'll only be in Palm Bay for one more year and I'm tired of church hopping, it will be ok if I just stay here until I move. Then I can find the perfect church." Ok, I know that no church is perfect. But, I am tired of the Hollywood church I'm currently attending, and I want to go somewhere else. I don't want the bright lights, modern worship, and celebrity pastor any longer. I want to go back to where I came from. Funny how I've come full circle.
While sitting in church, I began flipping through the read pages of my book and rereading passages that I've underlined, starred, or put smiley faces by. This passage struck me:
It looks as if [Anglican clergymen] believed people can be lured to go to church by incessant brightenings, lighenings, lengthenings, abridgements, simplifications, and complications of the service...Novelty, simply as such, can have only an entertainment value. And they don't go to church to be entertained. They go to use the service, or, if you prefer, to enact it. Every service is a structure of acts and words through which we receive a sacrament, or repent, or supplicate, or adore. And it enables us to do these things best--if you like, it "works" best--when, through long familiarity, we don't have to think about it. As long as you notice, and have to count, the steps, you are not yet dancing but only learning to dance. A good shoe is a shoe you don't notice. Good reading becomes possible when you need not consciously think about eyes, or light, or print, or spelling. The perfect church service would be one we were almost unaware of; our attention would have been on God. But every novelty prevents this. It fixes our attention on the service itself; and thinking about worship is a different thing from worshipping...A still worse thing may happen. Novelty may fix our attention not even on the service but on the celebrant. You know what I mean. Try as one may to exclude it, the question "What on earth is he up to now?" will intrude. It lays one's devotion to waste. There is really some excuse for the man who said, "I wish they'd remember that the charge to Peter was Feed my sheep; not Try experiements on my rats, or even, Teach my performing dogs new tricks."
I felt like Lewis was writing those words specifically for me. I love love love when I read something that I wholeheartedly connect with that I feel like the author was able to see inside my mind and put in writing that which I could not find words to accurately articulate. As much as I've been guilty of wanting to get away from the "traditional" church service I grew up attending at a very traditional United Methodist church, I can recognize now that I was completely unaware of the service. My attention wasn't on the service, it was on God. Ever since my move to Miami for college, I've been attending churches where the focus is on the service, not God. I've been attending services where the worship team coordinates their outfits and the musicians get solos. I've been attending services with fancy, elaborate power point presentations with fill in the blank sermon notes (where sermon note binders are for sale in the bookstore). I've been attending church services where you have to apply and audition to serve in music ministry and where hundreds of church goers flee the sanctuary in order to stand in an insanely long line at the media booth to purchase DVDs of CDs of the morning's service. I have often found myself asking, "What on earth is he up to now?" when the pastor begins another sales pitch or when an electric guitar solo kicks in. I have sat amazed at how the masses adopt, without question, whatever is said from the pulpit or in small groups.
[[Well, I probably am sounding pretty judgemental right about now. I would like to say that while I personally am finding fault with my church, there is a lot of good, too. For instance, hundreds of church goers came together and fed 3,000 people in the community this last week who were severely affected by Hurricane Frances. Hundreds of people came together and went out cleaning up yards and sawing up trees. The church definitely welcomes hundreds of people, right where they're at, often times people who haven't ever been to church before (or who are trying to return after many years of staying away).]]
All this to say, I want to go to another church.
I will leave you readers (those of you who have read until this point) with another quote from Letters:
We may ignore, but we can nowhere evade, the presence of God. The world is crowded with Him. He walks everywhere incognito. And the incognito is not always hard to penetrate. The real labour is to remember, to attend. In fact, to come awake. Still more, to remain awake.
I love that...The world is crowded with Him.
posted by alisa beth at 3:29 PM
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