"With thanksgiving
I'll be a living
Sanctuary
For You."
Once upon a time, in the far away land of New York City, the fledgling band Ghosts of Pasha had a gig. After driving all night, somewhat hungover and quite sleepy, they trudged to the Mercury Lounge with their gear. Set up. Tuned. Laid out Merch. Nursed some Advil (probably?). And stepped up to the mic. What they didn't expect, however, was the massive amount of crazy fans awaiting their performance.
They were a new group of musicians, struggling to make their way in the music industry and accrue bigger and bigger audiences. The sudden amount of wriggling bodies anticipating the start of the show was certainly a surprise. But, they continued. On with the show.
Once upon a time, in the far away land of New York City, a group of agents from an organization called Improv Everywhere got together and attempted to do something kind. "Pick a struggling rock band and turn their small gig into the best show of their lives," Agent Lee suggested. After much research, they landed on Ghosts of Pasha. Bought the tickets. Swarmed the club. Awaited the band's arrival. And then. Went. Nuts.
"Fans" rushed the stage. They screamed musicians' names. A brave soul jumped up beside a guitarist. The more thorough agents sang along with lyrics they had diligently researched the week before. Girls stretched their hands out and begged for high fives. It was a whirl-wind of concert hysteria that so many of us know well. They demanded encores, and purchase SO MANY CD's. After the last song ended, the remaining agents of Improv Everywhere promptly left, confident they had given Ghosts of Pasha a fantastic story to tell.
Except they didn't. Ghosts of Pasha found out weeks later, and they were crushed. After hours of rehearsal, swollen fingers and sleepless travel they found out that their hard work amounted to nothing but charity. They felt easily mocked. Harrassed in quite a unique fashion. Who wouldn't? It's as if Improv Everywhere was so busy getting caught up in the hype that they completely forgot about the object of their affection--the very goal of the entire evening.
Sometimes during a service--only every once in a while--I'll look up from my bass neck and observe a sea of tired, blank faces. The songs all sort of end up deflated and the room is slightly...dead. Nobody is enthused. The atmosphere is flat. It happens to every worship leader, and it's the kind of set that can be the most discouraging.
These are my favorite services.
My favorite, namely because of the dark balcony corners. I'll find them, one, two, maybe three faces. Hands clasped, or raised slightly. Swaying, or still. Eyes closed, or raised, or staring somewhere the rest of us can't see. Spotty shadows of individuals who are very aware of their surroundings and in their own unique manner have chosen an attitude of worship anyway. They get it. And they are beautiful to me.
It's difficult to explain, but when we attend worship services, it's as though we are expecting something very...specific. We seek a sanctuary where we feel comfortable raising our hands, shedding tears of awe, getting on our knees, or any other position of expressive worship that becomes more and more familiar. There is nothing exactly wrong with this--many of us are expressive individuals, and to find a body where we can worship passionately on a weekly basis is a gift. But please, please be forewarned--beware the hand-raising ratio.
I hesitate to call myself a "worship leader," simply because I don't have to put in as many hours and hard work as others do. I am the stereotypical bass player. My job is not very difficult (I'm only playing one note at a time. It isn't rocket science) and occasionally I get placed behind a backdrop or stage device on accident (hey--staging is hard!). But I do take my position very seriously. Worship leaders, worship bands, worship organizers--we all serve as facilitators. We usher congregations into the presence of Jesus to speak with Him about who He is. It is a simultaneously weighty...and yet, insignificant job. Hear me out.
It's very tempting to judge a service's success by the hand-raising ratio. Look. Most of them are raising their hands. We've done it. People are actually worshipping. This is what we've longed for. They've entered the sanctuary, and they like it here. Right?
I think one of the most frustrating things I've observed is after any sort of organizational changes are made to a set pattern. People have this look about them like "Yes! Finally! Finally I can have an authentic worship experience!"
Finally. Finally? Finally....what? What exactly changed here? We used less lighting? We went back to simplicity? We changed the song choices? The guy or girl who is singing is more expressive, so you are more comfortable being expressive? It's more like IHOP? It's very trendy for one generation to explore glitzier opportunities and another to desire simplicity..,but what "finally" was it exactly that you were waiting for? And why, why dear one, were you waiting?
Listen, I get it. Worship atmospheres are something that have to be created, and a congregation can tell when something isn't right. Spiritual warfare is indeed at hand at all times. But conditions are exactly what they say they are--conditional. If it's a perfect sanctuary we are waiting for, then we are doing it wrong. We seek nothing more than an emotional experience. At the very core of it, we must admit a very painful fact: we didn't come to worship. We came to feel something. And Jesus--beautiful, lovely, precious Jesus--deserves more than what amounts to a spiritual dog and pony show. He's not a fledgling rock band. He's much bigger than that.
One of my greatest mentors had some cool things to say about worship. My favorite was this: "If you don't actually mean the lyrics to this song, then don't sing them. Don't. No ones going to judge you if you aren't singing. You aren't going to look stupid. But don't be the person who honors Him with your lips when your heart is far from Him." It's something that has stuck with me to this day. He desires worshippers that worship in spirit and in truth. That means saying words that we are also going to mean later, when the music is done and we have to go back to real life.
My fear is that readers are going to assume my point runs along the lines of "You can worship, just don't overdo it. Like an IDIOT." And this couldn't be further from the truth. By all means, if the Spirit compels, then speak in tongues. Dance. Shout. Clap. Cry. Laugh. Do it all. Do it because that's how you tell Jesus you love Him. Do it to show your passion. Do it.
The difference lies in the depths of our individual hearts. Yes, worship is carthartic. It is a release. It feeds us. But it's easy to look for a sanctuary that provides all of these things for us. We have forgotten the object of our affection. We worship, because it's cathartic. We worship, because it's a release. We worship, because it feeds us. But we don't worship because He is good--it's something that becomes secondary, and that is a terrible thing indeed.
Louie Giglio put it this way:
"Worship is …
our response,
both personal and corporate,
to God—
for who He is!
and what He has done!
expressed in and by the things we say
and the way we live."
Don't you see, friends? He dwells within the praises of His people. We don't enter the Sanctuary. We are the sanctuary. When souls genuinely respond to a God who is good--That. Is. Worship. While Sunday mornings have their own traditional importance, we don't need a Sunday morning to do that. Some of the greatest worship services have occurred at quiet breakfast tables. In blaring car stereos. In still nights where hymns are murmured to children fighting sleep. We find them when we see something beautiful and think of Him. When an unexpected check comes through and we wonder at His provision. When we eat an excellent apple pie and consider how great it is that He thought to make applie pie a thing. When the Spirit descended in tongues of fire, a sanctuary ceased to be somewhere we go. A sanctuary is now a state of being. If we are lacking in our worship experience and our answer is to look at the guy in charge with contempt, we have utterly missed the point. It's a problem when we are looking for how many hands are raised instead of looking at the conditions of our own hearts. We neglect our inner sanctuaries. We forgot why we were there.
Worship leaders, be encouraged. Worshippers, be genuine. This is the best of all places to open up.
Let us not seek Sanctuaries. Let us become them
