It began like a lot of Sundays begin – anticipation about worshiping God with those in my fellowship; greater anticipation about what God might have to say to us and to me; a few minor details to be handled regarding the worship service; and overall, feeling good about what the day had in store. The pre-service warm up with instrumentalists and soloists had gone well and so I made my way back to where the choir was waiting so we could run through our music and other elements of the worship service.
Then, it began happening.
A few choir members were absent, but nobody knew where they were. They hadn't reported to anyone that they'd be gone that day; they just didn't show up. Has this ever happened to you? Never mind, I know the answer. That was a rhetorical question. The most holy, sanctified way I can put it is: I was distracted by this.
A few minutes later as the service actually began, it became painfully obvious that something was wrong with our acoustic guitar and that something was this: sometime between our warm up and the service itself, our guitarist had inadvertently unplugged his guitar, then replugged it back into the wrong input on stage. So, instead of a warm, room-filling acoustic intro to the first song, we just got the un-amplified sound of the guitar … which sort of sounded like it was in another room. I was distracted by this.
And did I mention that our air conditioning went out? In July? In Jackson, Mississippi? I can tell you one thing - Jackson, Mississippi in July is not where you want to be with no air conditioning. And yes, I was distracted by this.
But an hour or so later, just as soon as the service was over, a man (whose name at the time I didn't even know) approached me to say, “Marty, can I just tell you how meaningful the worship here is to me and my family? We appreciate the thoughtfulness and effort that goes into helping us encounter God.”
I felt like a jerk. In my attempt to be sure everything was perfect so that we could approach and hear from God, I had let minor imperfections capture my attention. In my striving for excellence so that nothing would interfere with our focus, I'd been driven more by what was wrong in the room than by what was beautiful and right about God. I felt like the victim of Spiritual A.D.D. - God was speaking … I just wasn't paying attention.
There's an old custom, known as “centering,” that some Christian fellowships take advantage of. In its simplest form, the practice involves each worshiper spending a few minutes “centering” their attention on God; sort of like drawing an invisible curtain around themselves, so that their mind is cleared of anything that's recently happened to them as well as anything that might occur later in the day. As their focus on God is intensified, so is there anticipation of His presence. Then as the actual elements of worship begin, they don't have to “get there” … they're already there. They just simply respond! Not a bad idea, is it?
You know, some of us who include what we'd call modern worship songs in our services are sometimes hit with the accusation that these songs are too “I” and “me” centered, and I suppose in some ways a case could be made for that. But then, I remember the words of Psalm 23, written by King David, the greatest worship song composer of all time: “The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul...”
You get the point. In the end, I'm pretty sure that it's not so much about the particular pronouns we use as it is in defining just where our attention lies.
He is the focus of our devotion.
He is the object of our praise.
He is the subject of our worship.
Everything else is just a distraction.
