Someone asked me the other day what it’s like to pastor at a time like this.
I laughed and said, “Well, it’s like most any other time, I suppose. Well, aside from the fact that the church is not able to gather together, or have any programming, or even conduct the kind of worship service that we’ve come to know and expect. Other than not knowing when any of this might change, things are pretty normal right now.”
Oh, we’re all going to be okay. We are. I have no doubt that God is in the boat with us, and that the storm will pass, and that the waves and the wind will quiet down.
However.
I do wonder how our current season will affect us as the Church. And by the Church, I mean the Church Universal—as in, all of our churches together, and not necessarily our very own fellowship (that used to meet) on Main Street in Sylva. Jesus is in the boat with us, yes. But what will the world look like when we get back to shore?
Lately, I have begun to jot down a list of what I’m calling, “Essential Questions for the Church.” At the risk of being too transparent, I’m going to share some of these questions with you, here:
1.) Is the church supposed to be another subscription service that people tune in to like we do Netflix, Amazon Prime, or Disney +?
2.) What can our current crisis teach us about what Worship truly is?
3.) How do you practice community when you cannot physically gather together?
4.) What does service look like when opportunities for serving are curtailed? How do you wash one another’s feet when you can’t get close to them? What does it look like to bear one another’s burdens when you can’t be near them?
5.) How can we engage in the virtual world without playing in the mud of online toxicity?
Since we’re all still very much trying to grasp ‘what all this means for us,’ I think it’s wise to focus on the questions rather than fixate on the answers. Don’t be fooled. I’m wringing my hands trying to determine the right ‘answers,’ but I am coaching myself to identify the right ‘questions’ more than anything else right now.
For those who were able to tune-in to our worship experience on Facebook LIVE this past Sunday, you heard me grappling aloud about the purpose and function of Worship. Our current limitations have put us in a prime position to examine our practice of Worship and to consider what we’re doing and why we’re doing it.
The Bible tells us that on this side of the resurrection, Worship is “clasping the feet of Christ (Matthew 28:9).” Taking up a position alongside the women who first saw the risen Christ means adopting a posture of humility, and of honoring someone far greater than ourselves.
The Early Church, months and years later, would gather as a church weekly (in addition to going to be in God’s presence in the Temple) to remember Christ’s life, his words, and his ministry while at table fellowship with one another. Remembering God’s work in the past and leaning in to hear God’s Word for the future is key to our practice of Worship.
Worship, whether revealed in the moments where the disciples marveled at Jesus’s power in the boat or in the century-old practice of giving sacrificial gifts to God, means presenting God with our offerings.
Worship means offering God our (exceedingly valuable) time, our (frequently muted) praise, and our devotion (Where we answer the question: Who do you say that I am?). Worship is where we offer God our (reluctantly granted) confessions and truth-telling, our thanksgivings, our petitions and intercessions, and our physical gifts.
Worship is a full-contact sport. It demands attention, participation, and commitment. And as our current moment may be revealing, Worship is hard and not everyone is going to do it.
Let’s face it. It’s far easier to watch Worship than it is to do Worship. Which may, parenthetically, explain our historically high levels of worship attendance in the 20th century when the emphasis was on ‘spectator worship.’
There’s no good way to sugar coat this. Worship is a discipline. It is a practice. And it is costly. It costs our time, meaning that we have to sacrifice doing something else. It’s expensive in that it requires planning, thoughtfulness, and obedience. Worship is troublesome in that it forces us to have to revisit moments where we’ve felt embarrassed or ashamed by our actions (or inactions). And it can be uncomfortable to be down on our knees, clasping the feet of Christ.
We worship because God commands it. But even more than that, we worship because it is our first and most-authentic response to being in the presence of the risen Lord. Worship is our response to God’s goodness to us, but it is also the way we become strong in the Lord, find direction in our lives, and are reassured by the reality that Jesus is walking alongside us.
So, perhaps the right question is this: What should it look like to worship? What can the church do to assist our fellowship in worshipping? Yes, looking to scripture for answers is our first step. And yes, we’ve got to be diligent to create a climate where families feel equipped to worship more faithfully. This is the question that I am holding at the moment, and I covet your prayers and thoughtfulness as we find ways to be faithful during these strange, surreal days.
God is already at work to redeem the extraordinary disruption that we’re experiencing. In countless ways, this moment is disorienting, and frequently grief-filled. In light of the resurrection, however, we can say this: Let’s make sure we don’t waste it.