criticism--a whole sandwich of it!
Without a doubt, today was one of the most draining experiences of my life. Unfortunately, I got little sleep last night (and it looks to be the same tonight), so my exhaustion was only increased by today's all-worship chapel.
I played my instrument for nearly two hours straight (beginning of chapel through to almost the end of lunch, though some on the worship team played till the very end). Just as lunch was about to begin, and I began to look forward to eating and finishing up my English assignment, Daniel (or was it Chloe? I can't remember, but it doesn't matter) announced that we would be playing "a couple" more songs for anyone who wanted to stay. Immediately, my selfish nature provoked me to simply leave; after all, it IS lunch, and I am entitled to enjoy my only break in the entire day. But I didn't leave, because I thought it an unfair thing to do when the rest of the team was staying. Finally, after about the fifth song, I was overwhelmed with frustration. There was no way in the world I would keep playing those same five notes (the EXACT same notes--the entire chapel was in the same key, and that should never happen again if we can avoid it). I was also discouraged, because I knew that for the most part, I couldn't be heard through the abundance of instruments around me. And that's not the sound guy's fault--it's simply the inevitable consequence of having too many instruments playing at one time.
I think the playing today was the best it has been in a long time. We were staying together, listening to each other, and no one was going off into their own little world :) We were also mostly in tune, which was a plus.
Before I continue this post, I would like to clarify a few things. First, I think that everyone involved in Chapel operations (our Chaplains, our worship leader, and our Head Hancho Jake) are doing an amazing job so far this year. Rarely are Chloe and Martin conversing off the topic of the spiritual needs of our school, and how best to deal with them. Daniel and Jake are always collaborating on creative ways to improve the quality of our worship arts. Daniel never fails to call every individual team member the night before a scheduled practice to remind us what songs we're playing and when to show up, and Jake has masterfully implemented a highly useful, organize, easily-accessible electronic system that keeps everyone on the same page. I'm pleased to honestly say that our spiritual leaders this year are reliable, committed, capable individuals who thusfar have shown that their priority is serving the God they love, as well as the students they are called to serve.
With that said, it's important for me to make it clear (especially as a reminder to myself) that everything I say is meant to further strengthen and spur on the team we have set in place, and to advance God's work at Alma Heights in the best way possible. Now, on to the criticism! Brace yourselves.
Having an all-worship chapel is, for many reasons, an absolutely horrible idea. I haven't said anything before now, because I did not want to create a spirit of dissent or discontent right beforehand. This issue is so complex, however, that I'm going to have to start way back, back to our theological understanding of worship. What is worship?
It's certainly not about music--but it's most certainly not about lifted hands, a pained expression, and the whiniest voice you can muster either. Worship, by definition is "honor given to someone [in this case, God] in recognition of their merit". Essentially, it's our effort to present God with something equal to all that he has given us (in many ways a vain effort because of our inability to give God anything greater, or even remotely close to, what he has given us, but one that we are called to cherish and pursue nonetheless). It's what we naturally gravitate toward when we fully comprehend what God has done for us. For some reason, our most natural response of praise and exaltation is music. Song is our default method of worship, and always has been throughout the history of humanity--it's a beautiful, fulfilling, masterful way to worship our Creator. Of course, worship can manifest itself in many important ways (doing your best work for the sake of worship, rather than the for a reward or despite a lack thereof) But shouldn't the songs we sing reflect the purity, profundity, grace, mercy, truth, and sheer incomprehensibility that are perfectly embodied in the God we worship? This is why we hear in so many prayers, and in certain parts of the Bible, the importance of worshiping "in spirit and in truth". Also, shouldn't the music played be done so in the most artful and tasteful way? Does not our God deserve the best we can possibly offer him?
Don't get me wrong, I'm not criticizing the quality of anyone's musicianship. In the same way that a professional Jazz pianist can leave his audience dumbstruck with awe and bring worship to his maker, so can a child learning to play the recorder bring joy to his Heavenly Father. The principle of excellence, however, remains. It is far more pleasing to God when the musician not only plays his instrument just well enough to strum a few chords or hit a few keys, but strives to further and further expand and perfect his craft. Therefore, I would argue that criticizing and seeking to improve and build up the quality of composition and musicianship in our worship teams is far from "wordly" or "materialistic", but rather edifying and extremely important elements of worship.
In the same way, the songs we sing are vitally important in every aspect. As spiritual leaders, we are not only representing the God we serve, but leading the students along with us. When we choose songs that poorly represent God, or only do so in an extremely shallow, limited, and/or clichéd manner, we are leading the rest of the students along in the same direction. It is also important for us to not only play to the best of our ability, but to choose songs that are conducive to a focused worship environment, one where the congregation can not only appreciate the skilled musicianship on stage, but experience communion with each other and with the God who makes it all
possible.
With all that said (and I certainly hope that any Christian reader will at least partially agree with what I've said), I'd like to continue in the topic of today's worship chapel.
Lifting up hands and contorting your face into strange positions in a song is a way many people naturally worship (and I hope no one will take offense at my description, because I mean none--this is simply how it appears.) However, under no circumstances should we expect this to be everyone's natural reaction. Therefore, when we say things like "just sing this part again like you REALLY mean it" or "just lift up your hands now and REALLY worship", we are calling people to conjure up their emotions in order to achieve some kind of "gold standard". That true worship only truly and profoundly occurs when a person is physically engaged and shut off from their immediate surroundings is a lie. A huge lie. And if anything, being aware of the people around you, as well as the people who are on stage, is essential to worship, as it reminds us of two things:
1. It's NOT all about "my personal moment with God". I hear it said often that worship is a time for you to just forget everything and everyone around you and focus on your own experience of God's presence. This notion is not only false, but fatally poisonous to anyone's spiritual life. When we cut everything out, we are failing to deal with reality--something God definitely wants us to be a part of at all times--and transforming our faith and the act of worship into some kind of escape ladder we use to get away from all of life's troubles. If anything, our faith is meant to shove us into the deepest darkness of those troubles, to grapple with uncomfortable and uncertain situations, and to rely on God for sustenance through it all.
2. It adds to the worship experience when you consider the community of believers around you, as well as the musicians on stage. Heck, even having a sense of awe at the amazing talent God has given the musicians playing, or recognizing the tremendous ability God has given these people to lead is a form of worship.
In short, when you cut yourself off from everything around you, you cut yourself off from the amazing things God has placed in your immediate vicinity for you to enjoy and thank him for. Certainly, it is important to find quiet times to spend alone with God, and this would appropriately be done through devotionals, time spent in God's word, or even listening and singing along with a song that is meaningful to you and edifying to God (notice, I'm not saying anything about whether or not this experience must involve "Christian" music). But in a community of believers, where worship is taking place in a unified manner throughout the congregation, it is important for us to engage our surroundings.
Again, let me clarify that I have nothing against any particular style of worshiping, whether it be with lifted hands or sprawled out on all fours--as long as you are not isolating yourself, and as long as you do not expect others to do the same.
This is why I internally cringe when the worship leader (whoever it may be) asks us to "sing it this time like you REALLY mean it" or "REALLY get into this song". It merely provokes a base, shallow, counterfeit emotional environment.
We need to be honest with ourselves; not all the songs we have been singing in chapel are the greatest, or even the most accurate representations of the God we serve. "Jesus, Lover of my Soul" (the non-hymn version) basically goes into great detail about how committed we are to God and all that we pledge to do for him, even if the goals set in that song are somewhat lofty and for many people (including msyelf) highly doubtful. Would I really embrace God with full zeal after my entire world has just fallen? What does that even mean, "though my world may fall"? I will worship you until the very end--but when things get hard, I'll be honest with you, it's going to be pretty difficult to keep this commitment. Is this song really a truthful reflection of God and our relationship with him? It's a rosy picture, but ultimately proves to be a shallow promise backed by nothing but how emotional we're feeling at the time we sing it. I can't be expected to meet any of those promise without some serious divine intervention. Now, there's an idea! Let's sing songs that talk about THAT!
The reason I love hymns so much is not because I'm in love with Old English poetry, or that I can't live without my daily fix of elderly choirs singing along with a droning church organ. It's because the meanings they express and the ideas they bring across are so deeply, profoundly true. And with more and more musicians embracing these hymns and composing modern tunes for them, it makes more sense than ever to embrace these songs and sing them ourselves. I'm not "harshing" modern praise songs' "mellow" either, mind you. In fact, if we just sang all hymns all the time, I'd be complaining in the other direction. "Modern hymns" have the unique ability to connect with our culture and speak to certain issues that older hymns can't touch. But older hymns portray beautiful, deep theological truths in such a way that modern hymn writers are rarely able to emulate. Therefore, a healthy mix of both is the best idea. Too much of one or the other will turn you into a shallow, base moron or a rigid, monotonous dead person :)
Today's chapel, was certainly emotionally stirring for many people, and did in many ways yield the desired results, but Martin's speech on the importance of this not turning into some kind of "spiritual high" was comically ironic, since that was basically exactly the goal (though I doubt anyone would have put it into those words). And what other goal can there be, when the lights are turnd down low, the shades are lowered, and aromatic candles are lit to give the room a sensual, intimate atmosphere? The evidence of an attempt to emotionally stir a large number of people in a relatively short amount of time is overwhelming! How should we expect people NOT to simply lose the "high" they get when they step out into the real world, where it is certainly not dark, and where there aren't any pleasantly-scented candles or small wooden crosses in corners to nail your prayers (or sins or confessions, or whatever the heck people were supposed to nail into a piece of wood), and where you are not surrounded by an emotionally-charged congregation at all times? Let's be honest, here. The intention of an "all-worship chapel", especially one set up like today's, can never go beyond a mere temporary emotional display. I also think it is irresponsible of us to think that a worship chapel is beneficial to everyone. Those who weren't somehow emotionally engaged felt extremely awkward and uncomfortable. Those who have a more intellectual understanding the world must surely have been repelled by what appeared to them a display of mindless emotion for that hour of their day.
I try to be a flexible person. As a leader, my number one goal is not to push forth my own interests (though, being the selfish person that I am, this often turns out to be the case), but to make sure I am representing the interests of those I serve. And in this case, I feel that it is my duty to represent the numerous individuals who were ignored and whose impression of Christianity and what worship means was severely marred today.
I read an article recently, and it said that it's best to sandwich criticism with complements. Having placed the patty on the bottom half the bun, I now proceed to add the tomatoes, lettuce, pickles, ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, Worcestershire sauce (if that's your thing) and top bun to this thick (interpret that how you will), juicy burger of criticism.
Often, we learn best from our mistakes. I don't think today's operation was a total failure. Who am I to draw limits on what God can do in any situation? To be certain, God moved today at Alma Heights. In fact, he moves every day at Alma Heights. I always chuckle internally when someone says that they really felt God "move" in a certain situation; I want to say, "Well, DUH!" But seriously, no matter what we do, God always works for the good of those who love him, and unlike our own empty promises, God's words are always reliable, even if they are not immediately apparent. Let us, then, press on toward the goal that is set before us. Let us build each other up, encourage one another, and strive for excellence in all that we do. Let us look back on this day as a day that God taught us something, a day that God worked in our hearts and in the hearts of others, and let us look forward to the many things God has yet to accomplish through us.
May God bless the student ministry at Alma Heights, and may we continue to pursue, understand, and interpret his will with all purity and truth.
I played my instrument for nearly two hours straight (beginning of chapel through to almost the end of lunch, though some on the worship team played till the very end). Just as lunch was about to begin, and I began to look forward to eating and finishing up my English assignment, Daniel (or was it Chloe? I can't remember, but it doesn't matter) announced that we would be playing "a couple" more songs for anyone who wanted to stay. Immediately, my selfish nature provoked me to simply leave; after all, it IS lunch, and I am entitled to enjoy my only break in the entire day. But I didn't leave, because I thought it an unfair thing to do when the rest of the team was staying. Finally, after about the fifth song, I was overwhelmed with frustration. There was no way in the world I would keep playing those same five notes (the EXACT same notes--the entire chapel was in the same key, and that should never happen again if we can avoid it). I was also discouraged, because I knew that for the most part, I couldn't be heard through the abundance of instruments around me. And that's not the sound guy's fault--it's simply the inevitable consequence of having too many instruments playing at one time.
I think the playing today was the best it has been in a long time. We were staying together, listening to each other, and no one was going off into their own little world :) We were also mostly in tune, which was a plus.
Before I continue this post, I would like to clarify a few things. First, I think that everyone involved in Chapel operations (our Chaplains, our worship leader, and our Head Hancho Jake) are doing an amazing job so far this year. Rarely are Chloe and Martin conversing off the topic of the spiritual needs of our school, and how best to deal with them. Daniel and Jake are always collaborating on creative ways to improve the quality of our worship arts. Daniel never fails to call every individual team member the night before a scheduled practice to remind us what songs we're playing and when to show up, and Jake has masterfully implemented a highly useful, organize, easily-accessible electronic system that keeps everyone on the same page. I'm pleased to honestly say that our spiritual leaders this year are reliable, committed, capable individuals who thusfar have shown that their priority is serving the God they love, as well as the students they are called to serve.
With that said, it's important for me to make it clear (especially as a reminder to myself) that everything I say is meant to further strengthen and spur on the team we have set in place, and to advance God's work at Alma Heights in the best way possible. Now, on to the criticism! Brace yourselves.
Having an all-worship chapel is, for many reasons, an absolutely horrible idea. I haven't said anything before now, because I did not want to create a spirit of dissent or discontent right beforehand. This issue is so complex, however, that I'm going to have to start way back, back to our theological understanding of worship. What is worship?
It's certainly not about music--but it's most certainly not about lifted hands, a pained expression, and the whiniest voice you can muster either. Worship, by definition is "honor given to someone [in this case, God] in recognition of their merit". Essentially, it's our effort to present God with something equal to all that he has given us (in many ways a vain effort because of our inability to give God anything greater, or even remotely close to, what he has given us, but one that we are called to cherish and pursue nonetheless). It's what we naturally gravitate toward when we fully comprehend what God has done for us. For some reason, our most natural response of praise and exaltation is music. Song is our default method of worship, and always has been throughout the history of humanity--it's a beautiful, fulfilling, masterful way to worship our Creator. Of course, worship can manifest itself in many important ways (doing your best work for the sake of worship, rather than the for a reward or despite a lack thereof) But shouldn't the songs we sing reflect the purity, profundity, grace, mercy, truth, and sheer incomprehensibility that are perfectly embodied in the God we worship? This is why we hear in so many prayers, and in certain parts of the Bible, the importance of worshiping "in spirit and in truth". Also, shouldn't the music played be done so in the most artful and tasteful way? Does not our God deserve the best we can possibly offer him?
Don't get me wrong, I'm not criticizing the quality of anyone's musicianship. In the same way that a professional Jazz pianist can leave his audience dumbstruck with awe and bring worship to his maker, so can a child learning to play the recorder bring joy to his Heavenly Father. The principle of excellence, however, remains. It is far more pleasing to God when the musician not only plays his instrument just well enough to strum a few chords or hit a few keys, but strives to further and further expand and perfect his craft. Therefore, I would argue that criticizing and seeking to improve and build up the quality of composition and musicianship in our worship teams is far from "wordly" or "materialistic", but rather edifying and extremely important elements of worship.
In the same way, the songs we sing are vitally important in every aspect. As spiritual leaders, we are not only representing the God we serve, but leading the students along with us. When we choose songs that poorly represent God, or only do so in an extremely shallow, limited, and/or clichéd manner, we are leading the rest of the students along in the same direction. It is also important for us to not only play to the best of our ability, but to choose songs that are conducive to a focused worship environment, one where the congregation can not only appreciate the skilled musicianship on stage, but experience communion with each other and with the God who makes it all
possible.
With all that said (and I certainly hope that any Christian reader will at least partially agree with what I've said), I'd like to continue in the topic of today's worship chapel.
Lifting up hands and contorting your face into strange positions in a song is a way many people naturally worship (and I hope no one will take offense at my description, because I mean none--this is simply how it appears.) However, under no circumstances should we expect this to be everyone's natural reaction. Therefore, when we say things like "just sing this part again like you REALLY mean it" or "just lift up your hands now and REALLY worship", we are calling people to conjure up their emotions in order to achieve some kind of "gold standard". That true worship only truly and profoundly occurs when a person is physically engaged and shut off from their immediate surroundings is a lie. A huge lie. And if anything, being aware of the people around you, as well as the people who are on stage, is essential to worship, as it reminds us of two things:
1. It's NOT all about "my personal moment with God". I hear it said often that worship is a time for you to just forget everything and everyone around you and focus on your own experience of God's presence. This notion is not only false, but fatally poisonous to anyone's spiritual life. When we cut everything out, we are failing to deal with reality--something God definitely wants us to be a part of at all times--and transforming our faith and the act of worship into some kind of escape ladder we use to get away from all of life's troubles. If anything, our faith is meant to shove us into the deepest darkness of those troubles, to grapple with uncomfortable and uncertain situations, and to rely on God for sustenance through it all.
2. It adds to the worship experience when you consider the community of believers around you, as well as the musicians on stage. Heck, even having a sense of awe at the amazing talent God has given the musicians playing, or recognizing the tremendous ability God has given these people to lead is a form of worship.
In short, when you cut yourself off from everything around you, you cut yourself off from the amazing things God has placed in your immediate vicinity for you to enjoy and thank him for. Certainly, it is important to find quiet times to spend alone with God, and this would appropriately be done through devotionals, time spent in God's word, or even listening and singing along with a song that is meaningful to you and edifying to God (notice, I'm not saying anything about whether or not this experience must involve "Christian" music). But in a community of believers, where worship is taking place in a unified manner throughout the congregation, it is important for us to engage our surroundings.
Again, let me clarify that I have nothing against any particular style of worshiping, whether it be with lifted hands or sprawled out on all fours--as long as you are not isolating yourself, and as long as you do not expect others to do the same.
This is why I internally cringe when the worship leader (whoever it may be) asks us to "sing it this time like you REALLY mean it" or "REALLY get into this song". It merely provokes a base, shallow, counterfeit emotional environment.
We need to be honest with ourselves; not all the songs we have been singing in chapel are the greatest, or even the most accurate representations of the God we serve. "Jesus, Lover of my Soul" (the non-hymn version) basically goes into great detail about how committed we are to God and all that we pledge to do for him, even if the goals set in that song are somewhat lofty and for many people (including msyelf) highly doubtful. Would I really embrace God with full zeal after my entire world has just fallen? What does that even mean, "though my world may fall"? I will worship you until the very end--but when things get hard, I'll be honest with you, it's going to be pretty difficult to keep this commitment. Is this song really a truthful reflection of God and our relationship with him? It's a rosy picture, but ultimately proves to be a shallow promise backed by nothing but how emotional we're feeling at the time we sing it. I can't be expected to meet any of those promise without some serious divine intervention. Now, there's an idea! Let's sing songs that talk about THAT!
The reason I love hymns so much is not because I'm in love with Old English poetry, or that I can't live without my daily fix of elderly choirs singing along with a droning church organ. It's because the meanings they express and the ideas they bring across are so deeply, profoundly true. And with more and more musicians embracing these hymns and composing modern tunes for them, it makes more sense than ever to embrace these songs and sing them ourselves. I'm not "harshing" modern praise songs' "mellow" either, mind you. In fact, if we just sang all hymns all the time, I'd be complaining in the other direction. "Modern hymns" have the unique ability to connect with our culture and speak to certain issues that older hymns can't touch. But older hymns portray beautiful, deep theological truths in such a way that modern hymn writers are rarely able to emulate. Therefore, a healthy mix of both is the best idea. Too much of one or the other will turn you into a shallow, base moron or a rigid, monotonous dead person :)
Today's chapel, was certainly emotionally stirring for many people, and did in many ways yield the desired results, but Martin's speech on the importance of this not turning into some kind of "spiritual high" was comically ironic, since that was basically exactly the goal (though I doubt anyone would have put it into those words). And what other goal can there be, when the lights are turnd down low, the shades are lowered, and aromatic candles are lit to give the room a sensual, intimate atmosphere? The evidence of an attempt to emotionally stir a large number of people in a relatively short amount of time is overwhelming! How should we expect people NOT to simply lose the "high" they get when they step out into the real world, where it is certainly not dark, and where there aren't any pleasantly-scented candles or small wooden crosses in corners to nail your prayers (or sins or confessions, or whatever the heck people were supposed to nail into a piece of wood), and where you are not surrounded by an emotionally-charged congregation at all times? Let's be honest, here. The intention of an "all-worship chapel", especially one set up like today's, can never go beyond a mere temporary emotional display. I also think it is irresponsible of us to think that a worship chapel is beneficial to everyone. Those who weren't somehow emotionally engaged felt extremely awkward and uncomfortable. Those who have a more intellectual understanding the world must surely have been repelled by what appeared to them a display of mindless emotion for that hour of their day.
I try to be a flexible person. As a leader, my number one goal is not to push forth my own interests (though, being the selfish person that I am, this often turns out to be the case), but to make sure I am representing the interests of those I serve. And in this case, I feel that it is my duty to represent the numerous individuals who were ignored and whose impression of Christianity and what worship means was severely marred today.
I read an article recently, and it said that it's best to sandwich criticism with complements. Having placed the patty on the bottom half the bun, I now proceed to add the tomatoes, lettuce, pickles, ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, Worcestershire sauce (if that's your thing) and top bun to this thick (interpret that how you will), juicy burger of criticism.
Often, we learn best from our mistakes. I don't think today's operation was a total failure. Who am I to draw limits on what God can do in any situation? To be certain, God moved today at Alma Heights. In fact, he moves every day at Alma Heights. I always chuckle internally when someone says that they really felt God "move" in a certain situation; I want to say, "Well, DUH!" But seriously, no matter what we do, God always works for the good of those who love him, and unlike our own empty promises, God's words are always reliable, even if they are not immediately apparent. Let us, then, press on toward the goal that is set before us. Let us build each other up, encourage one another, and strive for excellence in all that we do. Let us look back on this day as a day that God taught us something, a day that God worked in our hearts and in the hearts of others, and let us look forward to the many things God has yet to accomplish through us.
May God bless the student ministry at Alma Heights, and may we continue to pursue, understand, and interpret his will with all purity and truth.
posted by John Mark at 7:10 PM
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