This past Sunday was tough. I'm not exactly sure what precipitated it - whether it was the backside of the peak from the worship conference, situations at work that were distracting, a heady realization that what I've been preaching to myself as a panacea isn't true, or just a low moment following the showing of a powerful video in our class time Sunday morning. Whatever it was, it was all I could do to immobilize my legs and keep them from walking out the door during the middle of the service. And I really don't know why I stayed. Maybe it was because my nephews were there and I didn't want to answer questions when they got home. Maybe I was scared - scared that someone would ask what was wrong. Maybe I was really scared - really scared that no one would notice I left nor ask why nor understand when I tried to explain myself.

I've been preaching to myself that our (that's a global "our", not a "Jill and I" our) experience with church is primarily about relationships and worship is a state of mind, an action of lifestyle rather than an hour on Sunday morning. Our church is wonderful when viewed that way - we've made some good friends in our church and relationships are continuing to get deeper the longer we stay. Good things are happening that are drawing our church closer together and causing them to think about reaching out. But as I looked around me on Sunday morning, I couldn't help but think, "Why would I EVER invite someone to this? That gathering seemed so irrelevant to real life, so plastic and cheap, so depressing. I'm not opposed to tradition or even ritual. When done with the right spirit, these things are liberating and useful. Men have a hard time throwing out their favorite easy chair because its familiar, comforting, and has always been there. We cherish antiques that bring meaning and their age only adds to their value to us. Yet there are some things that are just old and outdated. That avocado green couch from the 70's isn't cherished - it's trash, even though it's a perfectly good couch.

I know comparing my church experience with an old couch is extremely dangerous and fraught with opportunity for misunderstanding, but bear with me. When that couch becomes unattractive, we do two things. Our culture today throws it out and gets a new one. Many people have done that with church as well. I don't really want to go there. I think recovering is a better solution. If that old couch sits well, and is paid for, why not update it with a covering that is appealing? But what if it doesn't even sit well? What then?

Even this analogy falls short, for I don't really intend that our church should be recovered with an appealing exterior. What I long for is changed hearts - a renewal that comes from within. Changing the songs we sing and the style we sing them in does nothing for creating authentic worship. Authentic worship comes from the heart of the worshipper being transformed and open to God. Authentic worship can come from any song, any format, any audience - if that audience really wants to worship. And I guess that is why I'm feeling depressed. It's pretty easy to change worship styles or the songs we sing. It's pretty difficult to change our hearts, mine included. I guess that was what was so convicting about our class time Sunday morning. Here is the trailer for the NOOMA video we watched, called Sunday -

"Why do we do the things we do? Why do we go to church or give money away? Because we’re supposed to or because we think God needs it? Do we honestly put on our best clothes for an hour once a week, stand and sit at all the right times, and sing all the appropriate songs for God’s sake, or because it’ll make us look better to the world around us? We’re tired of all the empty rituals and routines. And so is God. God hates it when we call ourselves Christians but ignore all the things he really cares about. He hates it when we go through hollow religious routines out of some feeling of duty or obligation. God doesn’t want the meaningless rituals. God wants our hearts. "

That is our mission - to change hearts for God and the only way I know to do that is through authentic relationships with people as we experience life together. I love where we are - I love our church - I love what God is doing in our hearts as we learn what it means to be in community with Him and with those we live amongst. It's a journey full of peril and adventure and that is the point - we live in the midst of a journey. We hope to reach our destination. We long for it, we dream about it, we create it in our minds so we can continue moving that way. But living the reality of our destination isn't meant for the here and now - that comes when this life transistions to the next and all things are returned to how God intended them to be. And yet, we still work towards that goal while we are here. We don't wait patiently, we work furiously to bring a little bit of heaven here on earth.