On Jack White, Worship, and the Marketplace of Art & Spirit

Jack White is a performer – no ifs, ands, or buts about it – and yet he has the audacity to expect a relationship of mutuality from his audiences. If you’ve ever preached, given a speech, or performed on stage in any capacity then you know exactly what he’s talking about here. There is a kind of reciprocal relationship that can exist between artist and audience, giver and receiver, wherein the gift is nurtured and grown between them.

The problem, according to Jack, is that American audiences are increasingly “spoiled,” by which he seems to mean lazy or entitled. Referring to the rock concert, Jack says, “It’s supposed to be a sharing experience.” Is it just me, or is he describing something we see happening in churches too?

For my part, I would say that Americans have increasingly lost the imaginative realm of the gift as the locus of relationships. Hence, we’re less able to conceptualize our relationships as anything but marketplace exchange; a tragic loss that has crippled institutions of art and spirit as sacred spaces of human formation - largely because we’ve thoroughly saturated those realms with the metrics of the marketplace. Consequently, I tend to think that by purging gift-space of marketplace dynamics we might be able to re-appropriate the role of artists and priests as performers in an appropriate sense.

Thoughts?

Technorati Tags: art, Charlie Rose, Church, Jack White, Preaching, Reciprocity, The Gift, The White Stripes, worship

The Danger of Worship: Untamed, Chapter Two

(During the month of April I’m blogging through Alan and Deb Hirsch’s latest book, Untamed. Previous posts: Chapter 1)

Your sincerity is not enough. Everyone is sincere, but there is a real-live God, with real-live thoughts, values, and expectations that exclude other thoughts, values, and expectations as possibilities of goodness.

If the first chapter of Deb and Alan Hirsch’s latest book, Untamed, concerned the re-affirmation of a personally accessible God, then the second Chapter wants us to know that God is dangerous. Moreover, as history’s slew of cult leaders and televangelists attest, it is also dangerous to miss the truth about that God. Such false prophets are very sincere about their faith, as Martin Buber has noted:

“False prophets are not godless. Rather, they adore the god “success.” They themselves are in constant need of success and achieve it by promising it to the people. But they do honestly want success for the people. The craving for success governs their hearts and determines what rises from them. That is what Jeremiah called the “deceit of their own hearts.” They do not deceive; they are deceived, and can only breathe in the air of deceit.”

This means getting the “fundamentals” about God right, but before you make the mistake of hearing a re-hashing of fundamentalism here, you must understand what the Hirsch’ mean by this term; for them, the fundamentals refer to being like Christ:

“We easily lose focus on what is essential. We miss the fact that discipleship has to do with becoming like Jesus, living the Shema, and not forgetting that the “more important matters of the law,” namely love, mercy, forgiveness, justice (Matt. 23:23–24), are nonnegotiables in the equation.”

This is in sharp contrast to the fundamentals of fundamentalism, which are unquestionable, universally certain  doctrinal propositions of truth that must be consciously affirmed. For the Hirsch’s this is too abstract, and this places them squarely in postmodern territory (though, not lost in its wilderness). Indeed, it’s likely that many sectors of Christendom will dismiss the these ideas as legalistic because some of the focus is being shifted to include what we do (what they call, “living the Shema”), as well as what we believe (i.e. “believing in Jesus”).

The authors indirectly reject fundamentalist conceptions of legalism as a false dichotomy, instead seeing legalism as too much emphasis on doctrinal purity. They affirm that, “The reality is that what we believe about God does have consequences. History is full of people who have wreaked enormous damage and even killed for what they believe in.”Our theology dictates our conception of what it means to be good and right, and how it will look to build a just society.

For the authors, this is where the Shema – the core Jewish prayer, taken from Deut 6 – comes in. For the Hirsch’s, Jesus’ placement of the Shema (or what Scot McNight calls “The Jesus Creed“) in Mark 12:29-31 as the central explication of faith is his remarkable distillation of right theology and praxis in one simple statement, a statemnt which holds the two concepts of belief and action firmly together – making his “way” into a concrete, bodily faith:

“The follower of Jesus broadens his or her knowledge of God through living truth, not just believing in it. True knowledge of God must be expressed in practice or action—that’s why the Bible is one-third ethics. Obedience— body and soul—is part of the condition of God’s covenant (for example, Exod. 24:7; Jer. 11:3) as well as the momentous parting words of commission under which we live (Matt. 28:18–20). As C. S. Lewis says, “Obedience is the ‘holy courtesy’ required for entering into the divine relationship.”

This is how we truly come to know God: by faith, which means believing Jesus’ teachings to the extent that we put them into bodily practice and learn how, through trial and error, to become like him through the enabling grace of God given by the indwelling Holy Spirit. The teachings and actions of Christ, including the Shema, are not only the starting point for our theological conception of God, but also our guide for whether we’re getting it right or wrong.

Another distinctively postmodern aspect of this chapter is the Hirsch’s insistence that such a life simply cannot be lived individually. While we all can know God, no one individual can know God completely. Rather, because everyone is wired differently with a variety of temperaments, strengths, and weaknesses, we must pursue the knowing of God in community. That is the place of proper theology.

The rest of the Chapter explores some of the ways that people are derailed in their discipleship – with emphasis on the big three of sex, money, and power – but the core message remains the same: we recapitulate what we worship, therefore we must endeavor to know God as God really is. For the authors, this means that the first order of Christianity is a full-orbed, holistic worship (not just singing), which they call “dangerous” because it has the capacity to put us in contact with an untamed God who transforms us beyond our meager lusts.

Some Questions For Reflection:

1. Do you agree that we imitate that which we worship? Can you think of examples from non-religious life?
2. What is your concept of worship? What are the most effective ways you engage in worship?
3. What are you thought on the proposition that we can only know God in community?

Technorati Tags: Alan Hirsch, Christianity, Deb Hirsch, discipleship, God, missional, Postmodernism, Scot McNight, The Shema, Untamed, worship

Eating Our Own Egos

I’ve been a pastor for nearly 14 years in a denomination that is known the world over for its innovation in worship music. But there’s a dirty little secret that not many people talk about: hardly anybody in church sings anymore.

And it’s not just us.

I’ve been to dozens of churches in different denominations (including my own) and there’s not much singing going on in any of them. In fact, it’s not just the congregations. Last year I was at a regional pastor’s conference where for two straight days worship bands took the stage morning, noon, and night and blasted us with heartfelt songs…and very few people sang. We watched, we tapped our feet, we clapped politely after every song (I hate that), and we smiled. But hardly anyone sang. And these were pastors.

I have to admit, personally I have been completely bored with Sunday morning worship for well over 12 years. By and large I think the evangelical brand of worship is an inch wide and an inch deep and, even worse, our dependence on technology results in the mediation of genuine experience – and video-venue churches only exacerbate that problem.

Lots of folks want to blame the decline of congregational singing on shallow pop-songs and amplified music, but let’s be honest: the problem of lackluster worship began long before electric guitars. Archaic hymns weren’t connecting with emerging generations in the 60′s and hymns connect even less with uninitiated emerging generations today. They may learn to appreciate hymns (as I have), but it takes time to integrate hymns meaningfully into our context. Besides, there’s nothing inherently virtuous about songs written before the 20th century.

Some think the solution involves raising the bar for “good songs” or “good worship leaders.” I’m all for doing things well, but what people typically mean is that we need to ratchet up the skill level. That sort of subjective elitism will only lead to more of the professional/amateur split that already threatens the integrity of the Western Church at large.

Others vilify the Jesus-is-my-boyfriend brand of worship songs which make Christ the intimate object of our emotional expression. There’s an entire chapter devoted to this in a well-known missional church book. The author’s rant toward intimacy-orientated contemporary worship is so antagonistic that it borders on homophobia (seriously, I was embarrassed for him when I read it).

But, as bad as contemporary worship can get, I think we ought to admit that it has done much to revitalize the faith of (probably) millions of people all over the world. In fact, by far the most participatory, passionate, powerful congregational singing I’ve joined, hands down (no pun intended), was in contemporary-worship settings. There’s nothing inherently wrong with emotionally expressing our love and devotion to God through contemporary, first-person songs. Emotions ought to be part of our offering.

It’s true that many old hymns are theologically rich compared to many new worship songs, but we tend to compare the best of the former with the worst of the latter and pat ourselves on the back for being theologically astute. Moreover, I think many people simply feel hymns are theologically richer for strictly aesthetic reasons. Archaic language tends to seem smarter because it’s less accessible – when in fact it’s just archaic (people think the King James Bible is theologically richer for the exact same reason).

Usually, when it comes down to it, these perspectives are mostly about taste and temperament. We want our worship to look like us (gregarious, dignified, upper-class, blue-collar, hip-hop, alternative, contemplative, country, hipster…take your pick). When it looks like me it doesn’t threaten me.

There’s a lot going on with this dilemma, but I’m going to risk oversimplifying by saying I think it’s fundamentally a failure to teach what worship is through our church praxis. Our understanding of what worship actually is must be followed harmoniously (which is where evangelicals fail) and contextually (which is where inherited traditions fail) by the way we actually practice worship. What we do teaches more powerfully than what we say. When we attract people to a passively-received spectacle, we’re teaching them that worship is spectatorship – so we shouldn’t be surprised when they become passive spectators. As Bill Kinnon recently observed, What we win them with is what we win them to.

Good teaching is a relatively slow process of discerning not only what people need, but also what they already have. It’s like a pot-luck. The good teacher’s job is to set a table where everyone can enjoy a full meal because of what everyone brings. Moreover, what we’re teaching (namely, Christian worship) is not an event or a gathering – it is an ongoing life of this very kind of meal, where the first gift is offered by God (demonstrated via Eucharist) and the offering of oneself to God in return through the diverse gifts of the faith community (which are also given by God) is the only reasonable response (Rom 12). It’s logically obvious that at this kind of meal and in this kind of life everyone must pitch in (1 Cor 14). Hence, this kind of worship is best taught by living that way intentionally, over a long period of time with other people. Our gatherings should represent that same slow-cooked, pot-luck life.

However, from a church leadership perspective, there’s a very real temptation to abdicate that kind of participatory worship-teaching in favor of entertainment because entertainment can quickly draw a crowd, and crowds can be inspired to give money – and money is what makes the world church go round (isn’t it?). We never say that out loud, but we always rationalize it. We think we can’t sustain ourselves without the kind of revenue that entertainment promises. We’re addicted to the drug of conspicuous success (bigger, better, stronger, faster) and we no longer believe that God’s daily provision of gifts, given through the faithful, will result in conspicuous success – and it probably won’t. Therefore, we’ve taken control of God’s gifts by converting them to cash so we can spend them however we please.

But there’s another dimension to teaching, and, behind that, another dimension to the preference for entertainment-based worship.

On the last night of that lackluster pastor’s conference, a well-known worship leader took the stage and did something radically different: he told us what to do. He coached and exhorted us through our apathy until eventually the place came alive and people brought their sacrifices publicly. There is a general squeamishness today among missional leaders about being too directive – and for good reason. For far too long the church has been enamored with a coercive posture of power. But good teaching also recognizes when to be directive and correct mistakes.

We’ve confused individualized liberty with authentic worship and the result is entire congregations of people who are isolated in a crowd: “Good morning! Here at church XYZ we believe you’re free to worship any way you like. Just do whatever feels comfortable.” Well, frankly, that’s a leadership cop-out. It’s bad teaching and it isn’t even remotely theologically true. When we worship this way, we aren’t feasting at the table of the Lord on gifts of grace that flow from divine abundance, we’re merely eating our own egos. Like modern consumers of fast food, we’re getting spiritually fat while simultaneously dying of malnutrition.

Down deep, our worship dilemma isn’t about the songs, the style, the instruments, the amplification, or even the loss of connectedness to our past traditions. Those things are important and should be used appropriately in harmony with the best theology. But the core problem is us, not our structures or systems. We’ll always take every opportunity we can to break every well-intentioned system we create. The problem is the condition of our hearts. We need to learn to lay down our egos and offer ourselves as living sacrifices. We need to surrender and submit to the will of the ultimate other (that’s the literal meaning of coming to “the alter”).

That’s hard, vulnerable, and humbling. After all, when it comes down to it, we’re all the students in this classroom. Sometimes we’re leaders and sometimes we’re followers – but we’re always beggars at the table. At the end of the day it’s easier serve entertainment because that way we all get to keep our egos.

Technorati Tags: Bill Kinnon, Church, Hymns, Pot-Luck, Singing, worship

Everything is Worship

This is Part 2 in a multi-part blog series laying out a philosophy for spiritual formation. You can read the earlier installment by clicking this link – Part 1: Everything is Spiritual.

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Everything we do is spiritual, which is why Paul says that true Christian “worship” is not merely a visit to the temple or even time spent in prayer or scripture, but rather the sacrifice of one’s whole life to God:

Therefore I urge you brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God – this is your spiritual act of worship” (Rom 12:1).

Worship is not only certain things we do at certain times – such as singing, or praying, or receiving communion. Since everything we do is spiritual, worship is whatever we do with our bodies. We spend every moment of our lives – waking and sleeping – devoting our thoughts, dreams, decisions, and subsequent actions to something. Sometimes what we devote ourselves to is another person, or group of people; sometimes it is activities or objects – cars, motorcycles, sports, or hobbies; other times it is to the pursuit of sex, money, food, or some other form of surrogate power.

All of it is worship.

Moreover, whatever we do with our bodies is itself always a result of the condition of our spirit. Always. We always act in accordance with the true values and beliefs that reside in our spirit, whether they be motivated by faith or fear. We simply can’t help it. We may have competing beliefs that will cause bizarre, erratic, or even contradictory behavior, but our spirit – however fragmented – dictates our actions nonetheless.

Hence, just as we are indivisibly spiritual beings, so are we indivisibly bodily beings. Therefore, not only is everything we do spiritual, everything we do is worship. Humans are worshipping creatures. We were literally created for the purpose of existing for something, and to offer our bodies to anything is to worship that thing.

This is like saying everything light does is shine. Light does a million different things and resides in a million different places, but all of it is the act of shining. To say that humans are only worshipping when they are in a religious space or when they are doing a religious activity is like saying light is only shining when it is emanating from the sun or when it is shining on a certain kind of object. Light is always shining, just as humans are always worshipping. Consider this:

What then? Shall we sin because we are not under the law but under grace? By no means! Don’t you know that when you offer yourselves to someone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one you obey—whether you are slaves to sin, which leads to death, or to obedience, which leads to righteousness? But thanks be to God that, though you used to be slaves to sin, you have come to obey from your heart the pattern of teaching that has now claimed your allegiance. You have been set free from sin and have become slaves to righteousness.

I am using an example from everyday life because of your human limitations. Just as you used to offer yourselves as slaves to impurity and to ever-increasing wickedness, so now offer yourselves as slaves to righteousness leading to holiness. When you were slaves to sin, you were free from the control of righteousness. What benefit did you reap at that time from the things you are now ashamed of? Those things result in death! But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the benefit you reap leads to holiness, and the result is eternal life. For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Rom 6:15-23)

Paul is pointing out that offering our bodies to any particular kind of thing, for any particular time, is literally to make that thing our lord. That is worship. I don’t mean that to sound sinister…it isn’t. There’s nothing inherently wrong with it; it’s simply how we’re wired and it’s a good thing. When we find great worth in something – for whatever reason – we literally sacrifice ourselves to it. That is the definition of worship.

Moreover, it’s this ability to offer ourselves whole-heartedly to something that makes us astonishingly powerful beings. Because of our capacity to worship we’re able to raise children, love others, design complex structures, organize social movements, bring political order, create art of all kinds, and generally govern the planet.

Of course, it’s this same power that enables us to destroy ourselves and others with horrific efficiency as well. And that’s exactly what Paul is warning about.

The most important question, then, is what or whom are we worshipping in the midst of our everyday activities? The answer to that question will determine whether our devoted bodily efforts produce life or death. This is why the chief pre-occupation of the Old Testament prior to the Babylonian exile is with idol worship (afterward it is with genuine goodness, which as Paul points out above, should be the natural by-product of good worship). Rightly-placed worship is the most powerful force for good on the planet; misplaced worship is a waste of time at best, and a firestorm of destruction at worst. One need look no further than the history of religion to confirm that. But this is not just a religious reality. The atheistic, hedonistic, and political atrocities of the 20th century were also by-products of mis-placed worship.

The goal of Christianity is that our worship would cease to be pointless, fragmented, double-minded, and destructive, and become, instead, whole-heartedly unified and directed in our devotion toward one truly good, consolidating object; namely, God. Furthermore, because God encompasses all good things (James 1:17), the worship of God doesn’t divorce us from real life and all the good stuff it potentially entails (like food, fun, friendship, sex, work, rest, art, entertainment, etc.); on the contrary, everyday human worship rightly fulfilled in God finally reconciles us with a truly good life, allowing the proper enjoyment of those things to become redemptive, righteous worship.

Because everything is spiritual and everything is worship we can readily know the condition of our spirit or heart by simply observing our behavior. This is a hard truth, but it is exactly what Jesus taught when he said, “A good tree cannot bear bad fruit and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit,” (Matthew 7:18) and likewise, “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks” (Matt 12:34). Paul agrees, saying,

The acts of the sinful nature are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.

Simply put, for the purposes of spiritual formation, the quality of one’s spirit can be readily discerned by the character of one’s outward acts. Therefore, if we’re to assess and train our spiritual condition we must begin in the realm of the mind, the will, and the emotions – but, because we are indivisibly both spiritual and bodily beings we must not be afraid to look to outward behavior as both the indicator and the fulfillment of our inward spiritual conditioning, and use outward acts as a means of teaching and training – just as Jesus did.

Technorati Tags: character, discipleship, goodness, training, virtue, worship