First, you are up way too late (or too early)! However, as long as you are up, you might as well read my blog.

I hope that you’ve read enough (and I’ve been clear enough) to see that I’m not really talking about style or personal likes and dislikes (although I do feel that to some extent, “the medium is the message” and how we do things communicate things we may or may not want to). I’ve been full circle, as it were, in that regard, having been in the present “movement” for over 20 years. I was also involved in leading worship for much of that time, and wrote a few existentialist worship songs myself.

And, as you say, I like the people in the church, and church is also about relationship; so, we’ve made a commitment to stay, and I can’t see us going anywhere else. I’m not critiquing from outside, but from a position within (although that position is shifting and I’m not sure how it will end up – perhaps I’ll move to the right side of the room?).

I’ve become increasingly uncomfortable with subtle changes in recent years – in me as well as in the larger community – that have major implications, both theologically and personally. I’ll be posting more from a personal standpoint in the next couple of weeks as I work through this book I’m reading by Robert Webber.

So, stay tuned…

I find it interesting that at “that church,” we have members (or have had members) who like yourself, have originated in a (orthodoxly defined) liturgical church and desire a return to that strong, blatantly corporate style of worship. I have worked at Lutheran you camps for the past two summers and have been to my fair share of Lutheran services, and there is definitely something to be said for the practice of worshipping in unity of posture, word, and action.

On the other side of things, we have people who hate the Evangelical liturgy of songs, offering, announcements, greeting, teaching, song, prayer, leave. Some people want to abolish any sort of format and come to church without knowing what to expect.

-”What kind of ice cream would you like, dear?”
-”I dunno, surprise me.”

How can we worship together in unity of mind and purpose when, as individuals, we all prefer to worship in different manners? The solution in the Church has been to fracture. We have 32 flavors of Baptists alone, not to mention the factions of Methodists, Lutherans, and [insert name brand here], ad infinitum. What happens eventually, once denominational gene pool gets diluted too many times over crucial theological decisions–chairs or pews? transubstantiation or consubstantiation or remembrance? 3-in-1 or 1-in-3? gifts or no gifts? gays or no gays? democrat or republican?–is that we all end up being alone by ourselves in our own denomination.

The Church of Josh. First order of business, abolishing the employment of sound-deflecting plexiglass cages for drummers. Would I love it? Yes. Would anyone else come? Probably not, unless the Doppleganger Theory turns out to be true. My lack of feeling corporately plugged-in would be just as isolating as if I would have chosen to worship in a specific body, which doesn’t have everything right the way I want it, despite its failing. Personal sacrifice so that I can contribute to loving His Church.

“That church” falls short of fulfilling my utopian fantasy. However, I love the people there–and I feel loved by the people there. However, we can’t be dependent upon love by peers for our survival. My dad has told me that marriage isn’t about love, it’s about committment. Sometimes you may not love or even like your wife, but what sustains the marriage is committment. I am committed to “that church” or perhaps more appropriately “those people.”

By the way, I will try to un-emo the percussion section of the worship team. Just for you, Alden.

-Josh

drat! it’s against the fire codes!