Winter Sunshine

This is something that I wish my home church could understand-- that God is present in beauty; that tender and reflective moments are as needed as really loud praise songs; that there is something powerful in reciting a creed; in other words, that throwing out all elements of the liturgy is throwing out the baby with the bathwater. If you throw out all of the liturgy, you throw out confession, statements of belief, prayers, and even communion, which we celebrate infrequently. It bothers me that someone stepping into our church on Sunday morning would not know who we are or what we believe, because we are so intent on downplaying our denomination (CRC) and rejecting anything that smacks of "church."

Our church bills itself as a "church for people who don't do church." In other words, it's mostly for the unchurched or for people who have been hurt by church in the past. I'll admit that I don't entirely understand the reasoning that says that an impoverished service would help those who have been hurt by the church. When I've been hurt by the church, I've been hurt by its people. But others have apparently been hurt by legalism, a good-on-the-outside but rotten-or-at-least-indifferent-on-the-inside mindset that manifests itself in, among other things, a works-based church service (you *have* to recite this creed; you *have* to dress up, etc.). So we do away with all the "have to's." (The irony, of course, is that we acquire a whole new set of "have to's:" we have to do praise songs only, we have to do away with anything churchy.)

One thing I know I have to do is to honor the hurt that leads to this attitude. "Therefore, if what I eat causes my brother to fall into sin, I will never eat meat again, so that I will not cause him to fall" (I Corinthians 7:25). Should we change the way we worship so that hurt brothers and sisters will not fall? At the very least, I can feel more tender towards them, instead of angry that they've (indirectly) taken away the liturgy.

I can't help thinking, however, that the anti-liturgical mindset may itself be (unintentionally) hurting people by eliminating important and powerful elements of worship--confession, creeds--and by hiding denomination and beliefs. "You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free," Jesus said. I'm a little concerned that at my church, we're afraid of scaring people off with the truth. I think that hurt people need the truth. Not works, but the truth. And frankly, I'd rather scare a few people off with the truth than have a bunch of wishy-washy people in my church. In the end, though, I don't think we'd scare them off. Most people are desperate for something real, something solid and true. Let's give them something. Let's really give it to them. Let's realize that we have something wonderful to give.

My church is Christian Reformed; it's my opinion that week after week, we should be showering people with the best message that came out of the Reformation: God's grace. For hurt people, for unchurched people, for legalistic people, what better message could there be than this? "We can do nothing; we're screwed. But wait, God has done everything. He's fixed everything, and you don't have to do and do and do anymore." O church of mine, by incorporating just a little of your heritage, just a little of the liturgy that sustained your fathers and mothers, you wouldn't be "churchy" or overbearing. You'd be the aroma of God's grace to suffering people. Wouldn't that be far better than being "the church for people who don't do church?"

I'd better stop before I rip my heart out. Maybe it's enough that for today, I experienced God in the liturgy at the church that I visited. I got my fix, and I can be thankful for that. Next week I'll be back at my home church singing praise songs. I'll probably experience God there, too. I usually do. Although in my heart of hearts, I'll be yearning for something quieter and more reflective, something grace-ful, something more "ancient of days." It fills me more.