Sunday, 29 May 2011

of miscellaneous jumbled thoughts

Am I Ephesus to serve and persevere, to test the prophets and hate evil, but to forget my first love?

The funny thing is, I think I'm more afraid of the sword of Anna than of the sword of the Lord. It's kind of like I'm afraid of what I can do, if I would only let myself do it. Maybe because it comes back to the fact that most times I am afraid of what I want to do because I am afraid of what other people would say/think. Which is, frankly, stupid.

Most of the time I don't think I have a problem with what God can do. It's usually the problem of what I can do with God. And maybe the crux of this matter is that I doubt myself too much. I doubt my motives too much. There's so much second-guessing and triple-guessing that sometimes I forget how to think straight. It seems that every time I allow myself to dream, I start to worry about whether this is my dream and my goals instead of what God wants me to do. And then in a moment of clarity, the thought comes that what if this IS a God dream? Except that these moments of clarity never last long enough before I slide into a but I can't valley of depression.

I need to stop thinking church. It should be central, but not centric. It should be an anchor, but not a basis. It should be a starting point but not the ending. Because the world is out there, and there is where I should be.

Tuesday, 10 May 2011

Stop. Rant.

And yet, my dear, how is what you do any better or any more insightful?
You still rely on grace. You have always relied on grace.
Shouldn't it be time you offered grace as well? Without that grimace on your face? Without that half-smile, that hidden smirk?
Is it only about the songs, or about the heart behind it?
Is there depth behind any thing you say?
Is there a heart?
Or are you merely words and music?

You. Are. Good.
You have ever been.
What more is there to say?

Sunday, 8 May 2011

another day, another rant

I was looking through my drafts (basically all the half-written posts that I have forgotten about) and found this:
While I was busy getting a new blister on my right foot (it's always the right, I don't know why?) I started thinking about what Christianity means in these times. Okay, it's something that I've been thinking about, writing about, deleting words on. It's nothing new. Just so you know.
But the thought was this: we're living a watered-down Christianity.
This lifestyle isn't real. This isn't what it was meant to be. If we were living the right way, I don't think we'd be so comfortable that our biggest worry is about getting a bigger building, (or getting enough people to justify a bigger building), parking lots and accessibility. We'd be getting into trouble with the law for the good things that matter: righteousness, truth and justice in a land where it's scarce.
We wouldn't be arguing about whether the 10% is meant to be gross or net income. We'd be saying we've given so much there isn't anything left to give out of. That meal at the restaurant would really be a treat - a luxury - instead of a normal occurrence.

I think I wrote that sometime in October last year. I guess it ties in with the stuff I blurbed out in my handy Mark Twain notebook during service yesterday. 
It is wrong. We move, when we should linger. We rise when we should be still. And we stop, jarringly, when we should flow. We are children pretending to know what we are doing, muddying the great flood of God's majestic river. We play in the eddies when we should plunge into the great flow, the mighty stream.
It is all wrong. It has nothing to do with our music, beautiful or not, rising to God. He doesn't need it. It is us learning to plunge into the music, the unheard music, that already surrounds us; learning to tap into His majesty and awesomeness that always surrounds us.
He sings over us. He dances over us. He spins His webs, His stories, His Words all around each and every one of us. All we need to do, is to be. Be open and receptive. To realise that He is there and to dance with Him, to His tune. Not. our. own.
We are rabbits. Frightened rabbits.
We are not even meek lambs who follow with trust and faith.
We are rabbits hiding in burrows, quivering when we should roar.
Roar! WHERE IS THE LION?
We are children of the King and our King is a mighty roaring lion, a raging fire.
So why are we rabbits in our worship?
Words are a powerful thing. Music is a powerful thing. Our God is more powerful than these for He made them to be tools.
I am tired of playing church. It is the time for the Church to rise up from its own ashes. We should be free of what people think our worship to be, but to be captured by what God wants it to be.
There is more to life than this.
There is a task to be finished.
There is work to be done.
It's a recurring theme. A deep dissatisfaction with where life is. Where life seems to be heading. And yet, at the same time, it's an acknowledgement that I don't know how to get there. Maybe I dream too big. Maybe I don't know what I'm asking for. Maybe I just don't know Him enough.
And yet. We are too tiny for our God. We think too small. We are satisfied with the comfort of church as we know it. Maybe I've been too many places. Seen to many things. Or maybe I'm still young. I don't know what it's like to be old and deaf and timid. But it just seems that in catering to the weakest, we never get anywhere.
We are stuck in the same old rut of Some people don't like it. So we shouldn't do it. ARE THE 'SOME PEOPLE' GOD? Yes, we are there to lead people into worship, and yes, that does mean that we need to take into account the type of people who are coming into the church. But you can't lead by pushing from behind. You need to lead by being out there, by entering first. By showing them the way.
I would like a valid reason for why we keep on singing tired old songs when the Bible says sing a NEW song to the Lord. I would like a valid reason for why our music must be soft and tinny (and basically high-school-band-bad) when the Psalms say SHOUT with joy to God... Make His praise GLORIOUS!
I really don't know how quiet and faded and washed out translates into AWESOME AND GLORIOUS. Yes, there are times for that hush. But with that hush should come the majesty of His presence. Not the awkwardness of the band/worship leader doesn't know what to do now.
I feel that sometimes we are dancing to a different tune from where God would take us. Or maybe I am critical because that is not what I would do. So maybe I am the problem. Maybe I am getting in the way. Acknowledging this doesn't detract from the fact that frankly, it could be much better. We are a long way from arriving.