Boxes and Baals

You might excuse him as naïve but truth-be-told he just really wasn’t all that sensitive – you know intentionally observant. If he had been, he never would have moved that old wooden box down into the storage room. Spoiling for a quarrel was never his intention.
He had a good reason.
The box had been in the way for several months and for all that time he and his buddies had carefully moved their musical equipment around it to avoid scratches. Drums and guitars and keyboards couldn’t just be left lying around after practice – they would certainly get into trouble for that. So the box quickly became a nuisance. Without it present in the storage room their mobility and space would be greatly enhanced. So one night after grumbling their equipment past it once again – they all stopped and someone suggested they should get rid of the box.
He made the call to send the box downstairs. He knew of a place where it would fit out of the way. So with the assistance of a couple of the guys he packed it away – down there. Slapping their hands together with that sense of authoritative satisfaction they marched back up stairs to finish their packing up…
That was Saturday night…
Monday morning dawned and he obliviously sauntered into his office without even a thought of the box or the impending conflict.
The man was waiting for him in his office. Normally meek the man was, at this moment, obviously agitated – in the way a well shook Pepsi can is before the unsuspecting person opens it. He was clearly upset.
He had a good reason.
You see the box was, as the man described it, not just a piece of furniture and certainly not just a box. It was a pulpit and this pulpit had been present at the consecration of the building in which it resided. It was invested with special spiritual meaning although what specifically that meaning was the man found it difficult to explain.
Taken off guard he wandered around the topic with the man till it became clear that nothing less than the immediate relocation of the box would do.
Chagrined he wrapped his arms around the box once more and carried the box back with the man to its place not in the off-stage storage room but to the very center of the stage.
As he glanced around room standing there he wondered about why people seem to need certain implements to access God. He had learned much earlier in his career has a minister that wearing a tie on a Sunday when he stood behind that box and preached seemed to help some people to listen more closely to what he said. It seemed to him that for some God needed to be confined at least somewhat to certain restricted locations and parameters. It seemed sad to him that after all these years since the veil had been torn in that temple long ago there where still those who preferred to encounter God at a distance.
He remembered the story in the Great Book that told of how Israel had pleaded with Moses to cover himself when he spoke to them after having encountered God directly. He thought about how easily those same people erected a golden calf to worship in the place of God. And he remembered the words of Jesus to the Samaritan woman when he told her that God could not be confined to one holy mountain or another but was to be worshiped in spirit and in truth. And his heart grew with acrid condemnation for the man.
He walked down to favourite spot in the youth meeting room and picked up his guitar – to clear his mind he reasoned – to connect with God…

Yesterday…

…I was singing some random 80's tune and Lukas interrupted me and said, "Dad, stop singing! You suck at singing!"

"I do not!" I chirped back.

"Yes you do!" he said picking up on the chance to needle his dad.

"Well," I said feeling a trump card coming on, "I sang good enough to make a CD."

Pause. He wasn't quite sure where to go with that one. "No you did not!" he said.

"Yup, I did!"

"Well then prove it!"

So I went rummaging around in the CD closet to see if I could locate a copy of the "More Than a Song" CD. I found one. Removed the cellophane wrapping and proceeded to show my son the evidence on the liner notes that I was actually a part of the project. And I also subjected him to listen to the disc. I'm really not sure if he was impressed at all but I had at least emerged victorious from his challenge.

The memories came flooding back for me and I lost myself in those scenes flashing through my mind. The 2 am hours at the studio mastering. The song selection process. The venue where we recorded the songs live. The overdubs. It all came flooding back to me.

I remember driving home from the studio directly to Ryan's house to check out the recently mastered copy. We made 500 copies of that thing for crying out loud.

And that is it. I vacillate between pride and bewilderment when I think of that project. It was a pretty cool project for group of hacks to put together an album of songs. We had some awesome help with the project and in truth there are still places on some of the tracks where I think it sounds pretty dang good.

But like Ryan said – there are a lot of places where the lyrics of the songs we sang are pathetically self centered and even in some cases untrue. But more than that there is a personal twinge that tugs at me every time I think of that project. I think about how the process of making it really became a sore spot between Char and me. I think about how to her it seemed like I was placing this project as a higher priority over her. I think about how I defended the 'sacrifices' I made to get it all done. And to my greatest embarrassment – how I pinned some pretty unrealistic hopes of grandeur on this CD thing panning out. I feel like a fool in that way.

I would never give up the years I had playing with those friends of mine. It was grand. But it wasn't more than it was. It was shortly after producing this CD that a stark revelation radically changed my perspective on life. One day I remember waking up and thinking that the greatest accomplishment I could ever achieve would be my success as a father. That put all of my egotistical nightmares in the place where they belonged.

So when my son comes up to me and tells me I can't sing and wants to start a good natured tête-à-tête with me – it makes me feel really good. Cause I am his dad. And you there is always the meteoric rise to fame that my "confession videos" will bring me. Oh yeah – Check that out!!!

Here's the little tag piece that somehow got onto the back end of the CD as hidden track. I thought it was appropriate!

Just Worship

Ok so before I go on please remember that:
I have been, am, and will be a ‘worship leader’ (shiver shiver)
I think music is hard core great stuff and important for our spiritual lives.
music is a gift.

I found this post on Think Christian the basic gist of both was: stop b$%^&ing about lousy ‘worship’ music. SUCK IT UP – And just worship!
Quote: “I think what we need to do is just worship.”
So that’s it eh? Just give yourself an intellectual spanking for being so critical and do some worship. Sorry that just does not work for me on almost every level. I understand that having a default attitude of criticism is wrong but…
I just think it is crucial to sing, write, perform, ask other people to sing songs that are theologically honest. On top of that – while I don’t think arrogant perfection and showmanship is an admirable quality in a ‘worship’ leader, we do need to recognize that leading people to sing something together requires certain skills. And on top of all that – the spiritual maturity to lead songs that most people will feel good about participating in is immense. Given the diversity of musical tastes in most congregations – I would suggest that this is nearly impossible even with most skilled leader.
I think the only answer is to make music a special feature of our gathering times and not so much of a staple in our ‘worship’ diet. The other place for group singing is where the group is more homogeneous in musical tastes and singing preferences.

Consulting Part 2Aa

thanks Paul for this link

Words are not enough?

Let me introduce you to the Mapuche (mä-pū'chā) people of Chile. Yesterday listening to And Sometimes Y on CBC sparked me up a little. I have this closet, amateurish linguist lurking in the shadows of my mostly empty brain. See if you can follow this:
Remember this tirade by Steven Colbert well it gets worse – sort of. Turns out Microsoft wants to use the Mapuche language in its software platforms (as it does hundreds of other languages). So they make a deal with the Chilean government (who are famous for their upstanding human rights record) to use the language. Turns out roughly 95% of all Mapuche do not even own a computer but…
Now the Mapuche want to take Microsoft to court. Smelling the potential of a healthy settlement, they claim Microsoft did not follow due process in gain the right to use their language for their software. They are ticked that Gates and Co. did not consult with Mapuche leaders before incorporating the language into their stuff. (read more here)
This got me thinking about who really owns the words we use. Owning a language could be a difficult thing to do but it is clear in this case that Microsoft stands to benefit financially from securing the exclusive rights to use this language (especially if they can convince more Mapuche to buy and use computers). And as such they clear have some influence on the way the language is used and how the words in the language are interpreted and understood – even if that is only in the context of their own software. So even though they may not be able to change the meaning of words outright they will still have and influence on the words thus changing the language. That is the privilege of ownership.
So who owns English words? And what scrim illuminates and reveals the meaning of those words? This is where Colbert’s rant really starts to haunt.
Language is constantly shifting. It is influences by so many factors: the function of words, the common cultural understanding, technology, etc. But what happens when language – the words we use are controlled and shifted due to profit margins?
And then the next question that comes to mind is – wait for it – come on – Who owns Christian words?
Let’s take the word “worship” for instance. If by some enormously fabulous twist of fate the Christian establishment were to decide to return the word worship back to its original meaning and intent and not just a primary reference term for music done in the church, what would be the implications on our Christian music industry? I dare say there would be some significant scrambling to re-orientate the way most of these recording companies market their products. So you say you want a revolution why not start with the words?

more mistakes...

Rex Miller again: "The Attractional Church does not properly distinguish between worshipers and musicians. In fact, in this model, only the beautiful ones are allowed to be “on stage.” And, furthermore, they must smile, be peppy, and radiate that everything is “great.” That is the bias of a broadcast-based church model.
This model is about first impressions. In other words, many people who know nothing about Christian reality or culture are sitting out there in the audience. To connect with them, you must present people who are cool and hip.
So, what happens when you have someone with a great heart for God, but not the best voice and not the most attractive appearance? The bias of the model relegates them to the place in the back. Worse, it disdains the real heart of worship." read the rest here
Again, Miller's point touches an important point about leadership. Of course one aspect that must be considered is competency. The more gifts and ability you have in any area of leadership makes you more qualified to be used as a leader. There is no way to guarantee that a gifted person possesses the right 'heart' for the ministry they are called to.
I have witnessed well-intentioned people whose heart is, 'in the right place' cause major upheaval in a congregation due to thier lack of competence. I have also witness extremely gifted people flaunt thier beautiful 'attributes' in ways that alienate people from receiving the 'ministry' they are trying to do.
I have recognized - that I have strong preferences in terms of who I want to work with me in leading music or other ministry.

Last year I read and subsequently purchased Rex Miller’s Millennium Matrix for a course I took with Dale Dirksen at Briercrest. The book is helpful in framing a contextual grid for some of the distinctions in pre-modern, modern, and post-modern dynamics in church life. Miller has started a blog recently and I have tracked for the last couple weeks. He’s been posting a series of takes on mistakes that worship leaders make. I think he is identifying some of the core problems with contemporary systems of worship (the order and content of spiritual gathering times). Recently mistakes number 7 and 8 seem to evoke some tension in my mind. (check out these posts in order familiarity, routine, and a response) Let me frame the tension as I see it…
From personal experience I know that when a congregation has settled into a routine, complacency and rigidity that is counter productive to spiritual vitality. As Miller puts it, “That kind of formula actually creates a fear of intimacy which leads to a solid wall of activity and noise. No breathing room. No silences. No room to hear and respond. No room for the Presence.”
But I have also seen where the people who lead and design the ‘service’ have used to much new material and led in too many diverse spontaneous ways so as to alienate the congregation from engaging. Miller: “the ratio of novel to the familiar keeps worshipers off balance in most gatherings of the church.”
So how do you find a balance and what is the trick to being able to do enough familiar stuff to foster intimacy and not let it become crippling routine? How do you do new things in the gathering times without again alienating people?
In our church, we always pray before we receive the offering. Most often it is a pastor who prays and the content of the prayer is usually about the concerns and needs of the church community. One time when it was my turn to do the prayer I suggested that people stand up where they were and pick one of the needs listed in the bulletin and pray for them. This shift caused a stir. Several people appreciated the variety in what is easily a staple part of our gathering time. Others were ‘concerned’ that people might be nervous about getting up or that some people might not be able to hear or worse yet that a pastor might not be the one to pray for their concern. (We wouldn’t want common people to pray for Aunt Agnes now would we…)
So what do you think?

off the wagon...

So I’m going up to camp like I have for years now. I’m going to lead worship. I’d sworn off that stuff for a long time but I can’t help myself. I’m really tired of ‘worship’ music. I don’t like that I’m tired of it but it’s the truth. I really want Here I am to Worship to connect with my soul. But more and more now almost any kind of worship song leaves me feeling like I’m chewing on dry crackers. Don’t get me wrong I love playing and singing. I just have very little intestinal fortitude for the pretentiousness of it all. I’ve heard people refer to music like lubrication making it easier for ‘the people’ to receive the word. That in itself seems so contrived. And this notion that there is a special connection with God when we sing may very well be true but not in all cases or for all people – but if that becomes the aim – this connection – boy I miss it a lot. Yeah and I bet you are going to say well that’s easy you are not sincere enough or you are closed to the spirit etc etc etc. And I’ll say thanks for the judgment! And there really are so few songs that so beyond God is great and help me God. So yeah there you go! Probably amounts to a crappy attitude and maybe I just need to turn my rebellious heart around. You know what’s weird though is that my faith and discovery of truth has grown exponentially when I’ve tried to stay away from the worship stuff. But that’s just me.
So here I go I’m packing my guitar (and my capo) as we speak…
out