Sunny Side Up August 9, 2006 �2006, Kathleen Gibson Blessed chaos in the church I attend the same church every Sunday - not surprising, since I'm wedded to the Preacher. But a few months ago, while out of town, we visited a sister church. Though separate congregations within our denomination share the same doctrine, our worship styles range from 'hush-up-and-do-as-the rest' formal to 'whoop-it-up-and-glory-halleluiah' casual. The moment we entered the crowded foyer, we knew that this church parked in the casual end of the spectrum. Jeans and t-shirt clad congregants milled about, visiting, coffee cups in hand. In the mural-surrounded sanctuary a media projector flashed nature slideshows. The platform, crowded with drums, monitors, and guitars resembled a music shop. Noticeably absent were the sacred cows of traditional worship - pews, a pulpit, an organ, a piano. The worship leader began the first chorus. People meandered, still talking, into the sanctuary. The girl in the chair across the way punctuated her song phrases with sips from a large iced cappuccino; a man in cutoffs cradled a Tim Horton's coffee and chatted with the guy beside him. Family members shifted seats noisily. A cherubic preschooler paraded forth and back in front of the altar (while her mom watched and smiled). I missed the keyboards and hymns. I didn't know a single chorus. Plus, the loudspeakers blared. I doubt that even God could get through this chaos, I thought, longing for the orderliness of my own church. God caught that thought. Through the Holy Spirit's gentle impressions, he responded. "Wait and see." Oh, Lord, I sighed. I'm a stick-in-the-mud. Un-stick me. Partway through the singing, the leader, a young woman with a guitar, invited anyone who wished to come to 'the quiet place of prayer' she called it. The altar, I corrected, inwardly. Several did, among them teens and young adults. They knelt, oblivious to the rest of us, and I thought of kids I know and love, struggling for meaning in a meaningless world, purpose in a purposeless culture. How much of a difference, I wondered, would it make to our youth to find support and family in a church like this, where they're welcomed with their piercings, tattoos, and ragged jeans; where the music speaks their language, where God is accessible? Midway through the service, we had recess. Most worshippers fled to the coffee machine in the foyer, then dashed back precisely seven minutes later. Open Bible in hand, the pastor walked onto the platform and began teaching. His topic? Sexual purity. He preached the Word, straight and true. People shifted in their chairs. Wait and see, the Holy Spirit had urged. I did, and saw God at work. A church family eager to worship and be together. Young people praying at an altar. People longing for truth, powerfully affected by God's Word. Evidence of a church active in their community. Chaos? Not in God's eyes, I realize now. In that church, he's busy restoring order in the most important place - in people's hearts. I long for such chaos in my own church. Respond Home |
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