Undignified and beautiful

Ok, this is one where I really wish I had taken a picture. This weekend we had a guest musician in worship, Ken Medema, who then gave a concert last night. The whole weekend was amazing; he wrote music during the worship based on the prayers, baptism, themes. It was incredible.

The best was the concert last night, though. A few songs into the concert, he started talking about dancing. But talk wasn't enough. He said, "The world doesn't give us the space to dance. Let's make this place our sacred dance space." He then invited everyone to stand up and dance, encouraging them to utilize the whole room, even the whole building if necessary. I wasn't sure what would happen. I mean, we just don't dance in worship very often.

The response was almost immediate. It started in the aisles. People joined hands and danced up and down the aisles. The space was too confining, though, so before long they took to the chancel (our fancy word for the stage), and within a few minutes, what looked like 100 people were dancing all over it, circling Ken and the piano, waving their arms, jumping up and down, acting completely undignified. It was out of control, and it was beautiful.

There was no going back after that. As the concert continued, I saw hand raising, heard personal testimonies, even from children, and felt the Spirit of God sweep over us.

I truly believe John Wesley would be proud.

Safety First...or not

I've been inundated with safety messages lately. Or maybe always, and I've just noticed lately. Not that there's anything wrong with taking precautions. I'm all for car seats, helmets, login passwords, and vaccinations, but I wonder whether we've become a little too obsessed with it. Do we spend a little too much time, effort, and money on disinfecting everything we touch (and then ourselves), making our house an impenetrable fortress, researching every possible recall, and cushioning our falls. Every other night, it seems, the special report on the nightly news reveals yet another lurking danger in our lives. "You thought your home was child friendly, but is it really a death trap? Tonight, in a report you can't afford to miss: 100 ways your home is killing your family."

So a few days ago I'm jogging while listening to the music mix my sister made me, and along come Garth Brooks's song, "Standing Outside the Fire." For those of you not from Oklahoma, the lyrics include:

we call them weak
who are unable to resist
the slightest chance love might exist
and for that forsake it all



they're so hell bent on giving, walking a wire
convinced it's not living if you stand outside the fire

standing outside the fire
standing outside the fire
life is not tried it is merely survived
if you're standing outside the fire

And it strikes me, I don't want to stand outside the fire. I want to jump into the fire, to look for love in the least likely places.

Our family has discovered our own passion, a place where we're willing to risk some safety and comfort for the possibility of greater community. Our own way of standing within the flames. I was second guessing myself when Garth reminded me that it's worth it.

In fact, if there's not at least one place in your life where you're wading into the fire, what's the point? When I read the stories of the great heroes of the faith, never do I hear God say to them, while calling them to a mission, "Remember, safety first. If it looks dangerous, or uncomfortable, or personally unfulfilling, or if success isn't guaranteed, just come on back and we'll call it quits."

Quite the opposite, actually. Usually, God's knowingly sends them into the fire. When they dare to whine, God replies with something like, "Yeah, I know it's hot. What's your point?"

So, here's to running into the fire, without a helmet or even a safety net. It's so worth it, burns and all.

As the Sun Rises

This morning I rolled out of bed a little earlier than normal for a Sunday morning, as Adam, our senior pastor, was introducing all the pastors to the congregation at every service, including the 7:45 a.m. service. This was my first time to attend the early morning service, and I was surprised at the large attendance. The service was in the chapel, the original sanctuary that seats around 300, and it was close to full. It's a beautiful chapel, designed to be especially conducive for weddings, funerals, and other special services.

"Why?" I asked myself, "Why would so many people wake up this early on a Sunday morning for worship?" It was clearer to me after the service. Here the congregation enjoys all the advantages of a large church with all its resources, but also the intimacy of a smaller church in a space that feels and looks especially sacred. Between the great acoustics of the space and the energy of the people, the congregational singing filled the room. I enjoy worship at all of the services here, but there was something very special about this early morning service.

Plus, who doesn't love to greet the sun as it peeks above the horizon in the morning?

If you've never tried it, come on out and give it a go. And if you don't love it, if you're not glad you woke up earlier than normal for the worship experience, give me a call and I'll take you out to coffee to make up for it.

New Sights, New Sounds, New Office

I'm moved into my new office at Church of the Resurrection. It's a nice sized space, with plenty of bookshelves, a happy desk, and delightful co-workers. I'm missing one important piece, though. Currently, when I look up from my computer, I stare at a big blank wall. So, I could really use something more beautiful for my viewing pleasure. Suggestions? Donations?