I’ve rotated out of my Worship Planning Committee. I’ve served for two years, and feel it’s time for another to lead the group I led; someone who can devote full attention to the planning. I’ve just asked to rotate out “for a while,” until I can get my schedule under control.
I have learned a lot about worship during the two years I’ve served:
- Worship is not for me. That is, it isn’t directed toward me. It benefits me more than I can possibly perceive. But the object of worship is God. What I like or dislike is immaterial. What He wants is paramount.
- Worship was never meant to make me comfortable. It was meant to make me uncomfortable, always craving more and better and closer in my relationship to the Lord.
- Worship is more than what takes place Sunday morning and evening. It’s pointless and heartless if it begins and ends there.
- Worship was never designed to be a personal experience. It was intended to be shared … between spouses, among families, within clusters and small groups, in choruses of throngs. And upward; always upward.
- Worship may have leaders, but the leader of worship is always Christ. Everything He ever did; everything he ever does, points to God.
Something I wanted to convey in the worship last week was Christ’s leadership at His own table. I wanted Him to lead our thoughts in prayer. So we went back to what he prayed. With a clip-on mike at my own seat, I read the excerpts from His prayers in John 17 projected in a PowerPoint, just so the folks in the nursery tending babies could continue to participate, even if they couldn’t read the monitors there. In the first service, another leader did much the same.
But Jesus led. And when I thanked God and asked a blessing on the bread and on all of us who shared it, I asked what Jesus asked: that He would protect us by the power of His name; make us one as They are one; sanctify us by the word of truth; and send us into the world.
When I prayed the same thanksgiving and blessing on the cup and those who would drink, I tried to pray for the same unity that would lead those in the world to believe that God loves all of us as dearly as He loves His Son.
I led a blessing on our giving from the lectern after the sermon. It’s related to the feast, I know, because it’s our response to the sacrifice we remember. But it’s different. It’s just different.
Just once, I wanted it to be different.