Friday, October 23, 2009

Sometimes I Wonder. . .

There are days when I wonder if I have ever accomplished anything of significance, if my life and work has ever been more than the fulfillment of routine and ordinary duties, if my journey has been one of real purpose or just a wandering down the usual, well-worn paths of life.

Wow- that sounded pretty depressing. Sorry.

I'm really not on the edge or caught up in the throes of a mid-life crisis or anything. But, there are times when I wonder if I am making any genuine, lasting difference in the world. Of course, the difficulty with the question always lies in our definition of significance. Shaped by a culture in which visible, tangible success or achievement tends to be the standard by which to judge, most of us fall by default into categories other than "world-changer." And so we wonder, Has my life really counted for anything?

I was reading in Deuteronomy today, while wrestling with some of these questions of significance, and received a word of assurance. In preparation for claiming the land God had given them, Moses was recounting to the people of Israel their journey in the wilderness. The natural assumption would be that wandering in the wilderness is anything but a time of significant purpose or meaning; it appears to be nothing more than time wasted, the unfortunate result of their failure and lack of faith. But surprisingly, Moses makes this observation in Deuteronomy 2:7, "The Lord your God has blessed you in all the work of your hands. He has watched over your journey through this vast desert. These forty years the Lord your God has been with you, and you have not lacked anything."

God is able to redeem our time, even the times of apparent wandering, those days of pushing through the wilderness. We all have our treks through the desert, moments when we feel like we are spinning our wheels in the sand, getting nowhere in life and achieving nothing of importance. Sometimes, like the people of Israel, I find myself there because of my own decisions and choices. Other times, the wilderness seems to surround me for no obvious reason. Either way, our paths through the desert do not have to translate into meaninglessness or a lack of purpose. There is One who is able to redeem all things, who delights in bringing purpose from the seemingly pointless, who creates significance in the midst of the unexceptional. What brings significance and purpose to my days is always the reality that the Lord my God has been with me, He has watched over my journey and blessed the work of my hands.

Does my life and work really count for anything? Even in the middle of the deserts that give rise to such a question, the answer can always be yes. When the visible success or achievements we hope for seem to elude us, the answer can still be yes. When we fail to create a blip on the world's radar of importance, the answer can remain yes. There is one thing that gives us that assurance: the Lord is with us, He is watching over our journey and blessing the work of our hands.

Enough said.

Friday, October 9, 2009

Postmodern and Wesleyan? Recovering a Sense of Mystery

No issue seems to generate more passionate debate and dramatic responses than that of worship. Let's face it - it's not often that churches are split by a raging controversy regarding the doctrine of the Trinity, but put a set of drums on the platform in a lot of places and the end will surely be near. Although the specifics differ from generation to generation and from place to place, our form of worship frequently serves as the public face of changing times for the church and its surrounding culture. As a result, and unfortunately, it becomes the battleground upon which proponents of change and those who resist change both stake their claim.

As the world around us moves further out into the waters of the postmodern age, our expressions and experiences of worship will no doubt continue to face the tensions of change. For many, the issues of music style, casual dress, and video projection are already considered debates of the long-ago past. There is a growing concern, a hunger really, for something more significant, something deeper than the surface matters of style and preference. It is the desire to truly encounter God, to experience worship in a way that goes beyond words. In my continuing conversation with the book Postmodern and Wesleyan?, this desire is expressed by Keith Schwanz in his chapter, "The Sensory Side of Being Spiritual." He writes:

"Evangelicals' confidence in the precision of words and modernity's inclination to reduce complexities to the smallest components created the false impression that Christian spirituality could be mastered and contained. . . The languages beyond words take over when we exhaust the capacity of words. Through space and shadows and colors and gestures and presence and touch, the languages beyond words help return an awareness of the transcendence of God to Christian worship. A growing awareness of the mystery of God invites worshipers to be patient with their own mysteries: paradox . . . doubt. The languages beyond words create space for such reality." (p. 107)


The lighting of candles and the use of darkness, times of silence, creative arts as expressions of worship, exercises of reflection and contemplation - these are things often foreign to those of us shaped by the modern perspective. As a result, some have misunderstood the desire and intention of those Christians seeking a more multi-sensory form of worship. A few have even resorted to harsh accusations, labeling such things as "New Age" or an attempt to draw us all into Roman Catholicism. But such accusations demonstrate a lack of understanding of both worship and the heart of these worshippers.

Among the Christians that I personally know who might be regarded as postmodern in their approach, there is no desire to do away with preaching and teaching or to make sensory experiences the ultimate authority for faith and practice. There is the genuine belief, however, that the sensory aspects of worship were neglected by the modern church culture and need to be recovered. I believe a couple of lines from this chapter hit the mark in identifying their desire and motivation: "return an awareness of the transcendence of God to Christian worship" and "a growing awareness of the mystery of God."

The modern world, so often driven by rationalism, sought to remove all mystery from life. The inclination was to categorize, define, systematize, understand, and explain. Alongside of this tendency stood our belief that what we understand we can then manipulate or control. Mysteries and complexities were not accepted and by no means were they celebrated with a sense of wonder; they became problems that must be tackled, resolved, and brought under control. That's not to say that all efforts to understand and explain are wrong or unnecessary, but when the element of mystery is completely stripped away, there are serious implications for the life of faith.

As the followers of Jesus, we undoubtedly employ the gift of reason. We study, we think, and yes, we even systematize and explain matters of the Bible and theology. Such use of reason is good and necessary. At the same time, there is and always will be an element of mystery in this life and journey of faith. The Christian faith is not a mystery in the sense that it is hidden away from us, beyond our knowledge or experience. God has clearly and certainly revealed Himself to us. It is a mystery in the sense that what has been revealed is beyond our ability to fully and exhaustively comprehend, understand, or articulate.

The God we worship is wholly other, and yet known to us; He is transcendent, and yet intimately present with us; God is One, and yet Three; the Savior we follow somehow became the Word made flesh, perfect God and perfect Man; in Christ, God was reconciling Himself to the world, at one time both just and the justifier; by grace, we know the hope of glory through Christ in us. These things we know; they have been revealed to us. Yet, we must also admit that they are beyond our full comprehension, that our words fall short in our attempts to articulate the truth that has been revealed. As Gregory of Nyssa once said, "Anyone who tries to describe the ineffable Light in language is truly a liar - not because he hates the truth, but because of the inadequacy of his description."

The admission of mystery does not work against the life of faith, but in fact deepens it. My inability to fully comprehend calls me to a life of radical trust in the God who Has revealed Himself to me. This element of mystery does not detract from my worship, but enlivens it with a renewed sense of awe. Rarely do I stand in awe of that which I fully understand and can explain. It is that which is beyond me that prompts a deep sense of awe and wonder. Some postmodern Christians feel that the sense of awe has been stripped away from our worship by the modern, Western mindset and they are simply seeking to recover it. They hunger for that sense of mystery, so long a celebrated part of the Christian faith and journey, to be restored to our worship. It is out of that desire that they incorporate acts of worship that represent the "languages beyond words."

While particular forms or expressions of worship may not appeal to everyone or fit every context, we can, in a spirit of unity, affirm one another's heart and desire in worship. We may express it in different ways, but standing in awe before the God who is beyond our full comprehension is a good thing.