He hung alone. Well, not completely alone. There were the thieves – one a new friend, one a scoffer. There were the three Mary’s, his own mother among them. There were the soldiers, doctors of pain and humiliation. And there was the crowd, wagging their heads and hurling abuse. Although Jesus was not completely alone, he was. He was left desolate by the One whose presence truly mattered. God’s Son lifts a bitter dirge of forsakenness to a Father who promised he would never abandon his own. He who knew the Father’s voice from eternity and was the author of sound for all creation heard nothing but silence. God seemed for an instant to be an atheist. Jesus, feeling the presence of the Father being withdrawn from him, quotes one of the laments David gave to Israel in Psalm 22. To know the God who is, is to look to him even when he won’t make eye contact. To know the God who keeps covenant is to sing to him, even, perhaps especially, when you fear he may not be listening.
When I Survey the Wondrous Cross, hymn by Isaac Watts (1707):
When I survey the wondrous cross On which the prince of glory died, My richest gain I count but loss And pour contempt on all my pride.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast Save in the death of Christ, my God; All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to His blood.
See, from His head, His hands, His feet, Sorrow and love flow mingled down. Did e’er such love and sorrow meet, Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small; Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all.
I recently read Reggie Kidd’s With One Voice. So much good stuff in it about Christ as our singing Savior – our Chief Liturgist. As we sing our songs of corporate praise and adoration here on the earth, we’re merely echoing and pointing to the greater song that Christ is already singing to the Father as He leads all the saints in song.
The challenging stuff is about the different voices of Christ and His body (Bach, Bubba, and the Blues Brothers). Congregations develop their own nuances and styles of corporate worship appropriate to the people they’re made up of and the surrounding culture. That’s the part of Christology we call “incarnational.”
“But we say something profound about the gospel itself when we stay a family and refuse to allow ourselves to become insular, a closed-in group. By God’s grace, we can nurture the good we’ve inherited from our family tree, further its contribution to the larger body of Christ, and at the same time appreciate – and perhaps learn from – folks who sing Christ’s song differently.” (p. 156-157)
Keeping a congregation opened-out to the variation of Christ’s song is tough. It’s too easy to just go to the top 25 songs from CCLI and create a set list every week. It’s too easy to just stick with what the denomination prints. It’s too easy to just keep doing what the Pastor or Worship Leader likes and prefers.
I think in most cases, a pleasing variety of Christ’s songs are present in any given congregation. Just from the people that are already there, the music of their hearts and backgrounds. The tough work is mining it. It means building relationships and learning about people. “What does it sound like for your heart to be engaged by God in worship?” That should be a frequent question from servant-leaders.
And then comes the skill of creating a collage representative of what God has already knit together in the congregation. And on top of that, the task of patiently explaining and teaching everyone that “It’s OK if you didn’t like, or get, or enjoy the musical offering/palette today. Rest assured that it was beneficial to someone else in this Body. And rest assured that it’s not about you.”
There are 3 ideas/images/sounds that are lingering with me after this session has finished:
1. Professor Reggie Kidd made this statement (paraphrased) in lecture one day: “You and I don’t make it through each day because of our good looks and accomplishments. The only reason we can make it is because we have a High Priest continually interceding for us in heaven. His prayers are continually offered up on our behalf. He was completely human and identifies with our struggles and sufferings.”
2. The DWS 704 class has the privilege of designing and presenting a Eucharistic worship service of healing. Our class focused on the theme of “Set Free to Serve.” The motif of chains was carried throughout the service. As worshipers entered the space they were handed a 6 in. piece of chain. As a response to the Word we invited everyone to come to the front of the room and cast their chains in a large metal receptacle. The jarring sound of the chains slamming into the container was powerful.
3. One of the other practicum presentations featured a dramatic presentation of Christ’s death and resurrection from the grave. But instead of ending there, the person portraying Jesus went on to become our Great Liturgist (“in the presence of the congregation I will sing your praises.” Hebrews 2:12), victoriously delivering the bread and the wine to the very table we gather around to share the holy meal. The reality of Jesus’ presence at the table has never been more felt. The connection of the holy meal to the resurrection (not just the death) of Jesus was heavy. I was left with the image of Jesus presiding forever over the celebration feast of heaven, as well as the table each time we commune.
Shipping the official, cotton paper, library reserve theses off to @iwsfla (@ FedEx Office Print & Ship Center) http://t.co/jIdrlaxC - posted on 05/21/2012
RT @WillimonTweets: Very little of what it takes 2b a Xtian is innate. Radical turning is required that is initiated by a power external. - posted on 05/21/2012
“I don’t feel like God ever intended for a fear of hell to be the driving factor in His relationship to humanity. I vaguely remember Jesus saying some stuff about love.”
Most of what we know about hell comes from the words of Jesus himself. The topic can be overemphasized, truly, but it seldom is these days. The apostle Paul persuaded men because he knew “the terror of the Lord.” When we shy away from it, we’re unbalanced.
Yeah that sounds like awkwardness abounds. Paying a key leader/pastor and not the rest of the band is different. And I don’t see anything wrong with wanting to strictly use volunteers in the band. But the church has a responsibility to equip and utilize all the talents it’s been given. So even if a musician isn’t up to the level where they can hang with the band, they should be finding them a place leading kids, youth, prison outreach, etc. or equipping them with training if their heart is in the right place.
What do you think about churches that insist on not paying their musicians irrespective of talent, time, etc. and will only take the best musicians who will play for free? Is the church, in that case, denying some of the “gifts that they’ve been given?”
And for context, the particular church and the particular situation to which I am referring has a volunteer policy that’s focused on an “unfettered” worshiper. And by that they mean they want people whose motivations to play on Sunday morning aren’t going to be about money.
But some of the musicians are hurt by that because 1) they spend as much as time and have as much talent as the lead worship leader, and he gets paid 2) They actually REALLY need the money most of the time, and 3) Motivation being questioned is offensive.
The texts assigned in the Revised Common Lectionary for Good Friday of Holy Week are Isaiah 52:13-53:12 (the Suffering Servant endured our pain), Psalm 22 (My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?), Hebrews 10:16-25 (Jesus our Great High Priest gives us confidence), and John 18:1-19:42 (the Passion of our Lord Jesus).
