worship

Most posts are ambiguical trotters, designed to disclose no particular polemical direction, but rather to direct the doughty derelicts and dastardly deed-doers towards one end - reflection - in the hope that in the placid waters of thought one might see an undistorted view (if backwards) of oneself.

This, however, is no such animal. I am here not to prod, but to provoke. I will reveal in turbid glory my very own opinion, and grandly proclaim a pox on my detractors. Furthermore, this will be a very narrow topic, such in which perhaps only the most similar selves might find interest. And jolly good for them - cheerio for being like me.

Onward, then, to worship.

Someone once told me that worship is when a kid crawls into his father's lap with a hug, looks adoringly into his face, and says, "I love you, daddy". Probably not how that heartless sterilizer of words The Dictionary would describe it, but mebbe truer.

When asked to define worship, most churchgoingprotestantnorthamericans, however, would probably say something about music, maybe referring to an electronically synthesized drum set, a fifty-thousand dollar sound system, and perhaps a smoke machine. This is probably because "worship", in a theological sense, is not an easy subject. When the Big Daddy you're supposed to be love-gushing at is somewhat invisible, it becomes hard to know exactly where to jump if you want to land in a solid lap. The human mind abhors complexity, and with the "enlightenment" ratiocentricity giving theoretical credibility to the idea that we can and should "know" everything, it becomes a lot easier to put worship on a list of quantifiable things, a thing that, say, occurs precisely after the pastoral welcome and before announcements, exploding towards the ardent fields of churchgoers with enough pop-culture musicological references that they can all sway along.

I can understand this. I, too, cower in the face of complexity, of unknowing. And music is a potent force, a gut-level soul-jiggler that can bypass doubt and move strait on into joy. The whole kerfluffle breaks down, however, when we come to the part where the music in question sucks. This is because music, at its best, always transcends reason. When we try to use it as some sort of farm implement with which to bind the unfathomable mysteries of the universe (like joy, or worship, or God) into solid bales we can toss around and stack at will, we end up betraying the power of that very medium. Or in other words, if you take something as profound and mystical as worship and make it a "thing" that can be contabulated and quantified and reproduced every Sunday in such and such a building at such and such a time with such and such a combination of overpaid leaders and attention-starved teenage drummer/guitarist/bassists, then the very spirit of worship has been betrayed and you are bound for failure.

Perhaps I only hold this view because I did not grow up in this culture, and was therefore unblinded to the fact that "worship" in church is usually just a shady copy of a reproduction of a piss-poor pop-rock concert. Perhaps. But let me fill you in on a little secret: there is no such "thing" as "worship". Worship is not a time, a place, a CD, or a band. Worship can, theoretically, be in all these things - but that is not what it is.

Worship, mes amigos, is a state of being: a moment, or succession of moments, in which a small child is humbly and simply overwhelmed with love for his daddy. You cannot force, fabricate, or recreate worship at will. And all you who might at this moment be inclined to thump me over the head with a Bible, think on this - there is NOTHING in the Bible to indicate that the God described in the Bible ever thought to say through the Bible that the modern evangelical view of "worship" is right - in fact, it's just the opposite!

Worship in the Bible is not something, it is everything! It is, among other things, what the whole world is doing, all the time. It is a mad, tempestuous, uncontrollable vibrant dance. It explodes outwards and has you dancing naked in the inexpressible infinity of God's creative eye. To say that worship can be controlled and contained in some poorly contrived and executed derivative musical schlock is a mockery - no, not even that... it's a silliness: a great big farce of a human folly, full of poorly-cadenced sound and a fury of intention, but signifying nothing.

Why has this happened? In short, I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with the way the church fornicated with the enlightenment and produced a dualism of sacred and secular, spiritual and profane, dividing the universe into tinier and tinier imaginary categories in an effort to gain power over truth and by so doing control their reality. Ah, what fools these mortals be!

Don't get me wrong, though. I love music. I think music is the sap and soul of the universe. I think it's the bees knees, the cat's meow and its pajamas. The whole world resonates, I believe, with the strains of a symphony eternally speaking unspeakable truth beneath the hands of a Master who wields his baton with a faultless ear for wisdom, grace, beauty, truth and love. This master uses point and counterpoint, balancing light and dark, hate and love as all of creation sings out, pours forth and aches on in the glorious ecstasy of becoming. That is not a song you stop, or control, or record on a shiny CD you promote to the masses. No, it is a song you join, every moment of every day. It is not something you do, it is something you are, despite what you might happen to be doing.

That, I hope, is a unique part of the unique message of Christ, a part that gets lost in the institutionalized hustle and bustle of "Christianity" - the message that God's grace has done the work, and all that is left now is to revel in the Masterpiece. You are the song. You are worship. Even in your doubts, failures, dissapointments and sorrows, God is creating something beautiful and good. Despite your lazy, arrogant, selfish, controlling pride, worship is being made through you - the imago Dei.

Maybe I'm preaching to the converted here. Worship is everything: blah, blah, blah and et cetera. But for me, this is IT, the big Everything and the hope I cling to when someone or something makes me think about what it all means. You don't need Sunday or a First-Baptist-approved-barely-post-pubescent-"worship leader" to tell you it's OK - you're already there. It isn't about doing, it's about acknowledging.