Down Worship

It appears that much of contemporary church worship today has adopted a particular emotional bias. That bias being the opinion that "good" worship always leaves the worshipper feeling "great" and "up" (never down) when all is said and done. Upbeat music, colorful graphics, high energy presentations all culminate in a rousing "Hallelujah" at the end of a "successful" worship experience. All attenders leave feeling "good about themselves and God."

My home church took a decided and intentional move away from that bias yesterday (not that we typify that bias on a weekly basis by any means, because I would honestly say that we don't) and it was quite a bold step by modern church standards. While the music was filled with energy and was certainly rousing with emotion, the wound of the soul was exposed and allowed to air in the company of all worshippers. The morning was perhaps one of the most moving I have experienced in some time.

According to Solomon, there is a time to tear down, a time to weep, a time to mourn (Ecc. 3:3-4). Yet in many church cultures today, our spiritual woundedness is rarely, if ever, acknowledged. Without the wounds of the soul (sin, shame, reproach) it is difficult to live a "time for everything" as Solomon advises. Generally speaking, we just don't want to worry and just "be happy." We'd rather not wrestle with the pains, sorrow and despair that pursuing a relationship with God can bring. Jesus said it would cost us something to follow Him and some of that cost is the pain of being aware of who we are without Him.

Sin, sorrow and pain are difficult to sell in a market-driven world. You can find pain relievers everywhere you turn. But for most churches, it appears it is easiest to merely avoid the subject altogether. But if we are to have relationship with the Righteous One, the Holy God, we must to come to grips with our unrighteousness and lack of holiness. In other words, eventually "our sins will find us out" and we'll have to deal with the magnitude of them. Even as a baptized believer, it is easy to forget the "downside" of my soul. That part of me is ugly... and I typically want to avoid the ugly. I'll go for "spiritual botox" (inject me with some temporarily numbing agent and let my spiritual insulation swell around my trangressions) before I'll admit the wrinkled depths of my sin, let alone allow someone else to see it. As I recall, Solomon said a thing or two about vanity, too.

This past Sunday, our worship planners and participating leaders chose not to avoid or ignore our sin and shame. Instead, we publicly met the reality head-on encouraging our acknowledgement of it. Once acknowledged, we move toward a deeper realization of our redemption in Jesus Christ. I'll be the first to admit it was a powerfully transforming moment. It was said that it is okay to be sad in church today. Sin is something to be sad about and we aren't going to pretend it isn't a very real part of our lives. Thankfully, there is no condemnation and we find full redemption through the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus. For that, we are encouraged to give glory and praise to God for He has made us whole. I left that time of worship hopeful. Though our hearts were made sorrowful for the pain we have brought on ourselves, others and the Lord, we left as transformed people -- changed for the better -- ready to serve with deeper humility and thanksgiving.

Dealing with my own personal sins in that hour and fifteen minute worship service, in the presence of 1,500 other sinners was emotionally heavy. Buffalo-sized tears streamed down my face and moistened the carpet in front of me as I felt a renewed weight for what my sin cost of my Savior and the pain inflicted on those touched by my sinfulness. Letting that weight settle on my soul and spirit again gave me an increasing appreciation for just how dirty and ugly I can be spiritually. And yet, the love of God is constant, overwhelming and ever-reaching into the depths of my despair (Ps. 51; John 3:16, Rom. 5:6-8, etc.) and causes me to see what glorious potential I have in Jesus Christ! Why do we run from pain, especially spiritual pain?

Maybe we run because pain is one of the greatest transforming agents of our human condition. If something physically hurts when you do it, the nerve sensors in your body make demands to your brain saying "we should stop doing this right now!" and we'll stop the behavior immediately (barring any mental or emotional dysfunction). Spiritually, doesn't it seem reasonable we need the same level of stimulus telling us of the dangers of sin, rather than just letting it burn our souls away? Spiritually is it really any different than with our body? When we are willing to feel the weight of our sin, we realize the pain it generates (in ourselves, in others, and ultimately in God) and we begin to realize "I can't continue willfully doing this... it just hurts too badly" and we change our behaviors. The old gym tag may apply, "No pain, no gain."

In a culture never allowing, let alone empowering "down worship," how are we going to realize the magnitude of our sin? How are we going to more deeply appreciate the sacrifice of Jesus Christ? How are we going to be transformed into the likeness of our Savior? I believe a little "down" time is good for the soul.

There is a time and a season for "down worship" and yesterday's "down" brought me to new heights of thanksgiving and praise. "It is well (again) with my soul."