The Kingdom, The Kids, & The Cowboys

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Category: Worship (Page 28 of 28)

More on Christ & Culture

July 3, 2007 / / 1 Comment

The professors at Austin Grad like to tell the story of one of the old Bible teachers / deans at Austin Presbyterian Seminary. As the story goes—this was several years ago, maybe during the late ’60s-early ’70s—the daily chapel service one morning featured interpretive dance as worship. The entire service was several students and even a teacher or two dancing on the stage to sacred music in a way that was questionable at best, obscene at worst. Immediately following the service, nearly a hundred students gathered in this professor’s classroom for Old Testament study. He just stood at his podium, speechless. And then he bowed his head and uttered this simple prayer: “Lord, forgive us. We don’t know what we’re doing.”

I’ve prayed that during a worship service before. There have been several times in my life when, in the middle of a worship service, I’ve wanted to stand up and scream. “This is shallow! This is banal! This is wrong!”

“This has nothing to do with our Lord or his church! Why are we doing this or saying that or watching this or hearing that? This has nothing to do with salvation or sanctification or love or grace! This is the kind of thing we see or do at Chuck E. Cheese or Wal-Mart!”

“Everybody, quickly, as fast as you can, turn to #770! Let’s sing!”

“Dear Lord and Father of mankind, forgive our foolish ways.

Reclothe us in our rightful minds, in purer lives thy service find.

In deeper reverence, praise.”

You know what I mean?

My great friend Jim Gardner has been reading John MacArthur’s latest, The Truth War: Fighting for Certainty in an Age of Deception. Jim had this to say on his blog a couple of days ago about that book and its message to our Lord’s church:

Despite the demands of camp, I’ve been able to get through a couple of books I’ve been chomping at the bit to read.

One is The Truth War: Fighting for Certainty in an Age of Deception by John MacArthur. In the book, MacArthur takes to task the postmodern inclination sweeping Christianity that undermines the existence of absolute truth.

On balance, MacArthur’s book is a must-read, especially for anyone who has found the Emerging Church movement to be the end-all, be-all of the contemporary church.

“A secular writer doing an article on the Emerging Church movement and postmodern Christianity summed up the character of the movement this way: ‘What makes a postmodern ministry so easy to embrace is that it doesn’t demonize youth culture — Marilyn Manson, South Park, or gangsta rap, for example — like traditional fundamentalists. Postmodern congregants aren’t challenged to reject the outside world.’

I’ve noticed the same thing. Whole churches have deliberately immersed themselves in ‘the culture’ — by which they actually mean ‘whatever the world loves at the moment.’ Thus we now have a new breed of trendy churches whose preachers can rattle off references to every popular icon, every trifling meme, every tasteless fashion, and every vapid trend that captures the fickle fancy of the postmodern, secular mind. Worldly preachers seem to go out of their way to put their carnal expertise on display — even in their sermons. In the name of ‘connecting with the culture’ they boast of having seen all the latest programs on MTV; memorized every episode of South Park; learned the lyrics to countless tracks of gangsta rap and heavy metal music; or watched who-knows-how-many R-rated movies. They seem to know every fad from top to bottom, back to front, inside out. They’ve adopted the style and the language of the world — including lavish use of language that used to be deemed inappropriate in polite society, much less in the pulpit. They want to fit right in with the world and they seem to be making themselves quite comfortable there” (140).

Has there been a lot of compromise in the name of “all things to all people”? Certainly and perhaps the gravest consequence is the emergence of the culture’s conversion of the church when it should be reversed. What MacArthur aims to inject into the discussion is a resolve to stand for truth, as revealed in the Word of God, even in the face of a culture that rejects the existence of such truth.

Frankly, I appreciated this book as much as any I’ve read in some time. Based on the little letter of Jude, MacArthur holds nothing back in showing how the fight for truth is as old as the first century. He articulates a return to the reality that absolute truth is revealed in the Word of God and underscores the danger of minimizing or rejecting the truth God has revealed.

“The idea that the Christian message should be kept pliable and ambiguous seems especially attractive to young people who are in tune with the culture and in love with the spirit of the age and can’t stand to have authoritative biblical truth applied with precision as a corrective to worldly lifestyles, unholy minds, and ungodly behavior.

But that is not authentic Christianity. Not knowing what you believe (especially on a matter as essential to Christianity as the gospel) is by definition a kind of unbelief. Refusing to acknowledge and defend the revealed truth of God is a particularly stubborn and pernicious kind of unbelief. Advocating ambiguity, exalting uncertainty, or otherwise deliberately clouding the truth is a sinful way of nurturing unbelief” (xi).

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58 more days until football season. And #58 in the countdown is “Count Dracula in Cleats,” another sorry Steeler who tortured the Cowboys during the ’70s. Middle linebacker Jack Lambert. I know, two Steelers on consecutive days—it stinks. But you JackLambertcan’t argue with Lambert. 6’4″, 220 pounds, strong, fast, and very intimidating. He was a vicious tackler. He punished opponents. And he was great against the pass. During his eleven year career in Pittsburgh he was named the NFL Defensive Player of the Year twice, he made nine Pro Bowls, went to six AFC Championship Games, and won Four Super Bowls. The Jack Lambert image I can never get out of my mind is from Super Bowl X. The Cowboys were leading 10-7 almost halfway through the third quarter when Steelers kicker Roy Gerela missed a game-tying field goal from 33 yards out. Cowboys safety Cliff Harris, who had been talking smack all week about Lynn Swann, gleefully patted Gerela on the helmet after the miss. And Lambert went nuts. He body slammed Harris to the ground in a rage and stood over him, sneering with that toothless grin. That’s when the game turned. The Steelers emotional leader had stood up to the Cowboys fiery “Captain Crash” and it was over. Swann made the catches that got him into the Hall of Fame, Lambert made the highlight reel tackles on Robert Newhouse and Roger Staubach that make me queasy, and Pittsburgh scored the next 14 straight points to put the game away.

Tomorrow’s #57 is NOT a Steeler.

Peace,

Allan

Two Things on Singing

June 26, 2007 / / 5 Comments

How many church songs do you know by memory? How many praise hymns, gospel songs, and youth-type songs do you know by heart? If I gave you the title or sang the first line, how many church songs could you be able to finish? 100? 200? More?

Next question: how many times did you actually sit down with a song book and intentionally work on memorizing the words? How many hours did you spend in a room by yourself pouring over the lyrics to memorize those hundreds of songs?

I’m betting you never did that once.

But you know the songs. The songs are in you. The music and the words and the tunes and all the images and emotions and memories and feelings those songs stir up are in your head AND in your heart. Our songs are so important to our worship and to our growth as God’s children. They become a part of us. They become who we are. I think half our theology is learned in the songs we sing. We know the names of the 12 apostles because of the song. We run the song in our heads as we’re searching for Philippians or Thessalonians in our New Testaments. Everyone of us would be able to recite all 39 books of the Old Testament in order if only there were a song. The passages of Scripture we know best are the ones that have been turned into church songs. Our pictures of heaven, of the cross, of Jesus in the Garden come from our songs. Our songs have defined for us our ideas about salvation and forgiveness and love. Our doctrines are shaped by our songs. Our songs are critical, paramount to our faith.

That’s the first thing on singing: the importance of it for the church, the community of faith.  

The second thing is this: Sing!

Don’t just sit there. Sing.

Everything we do in America now is geared more and more toward consuming entertainment and pleasant diversion and less and less toward active participation. We watch and listen. We don’t do. And I’m struck by the words of Darryl Tippens in his book That’s Why We Sing:

“We are less and less a singing culture, more and more a listening culture. We are surrounded, day and night, by professionally produced music. As we move from active participation to passive listening, an even more ominous consequence emerges. In a world of “American Idol,” we have become entitled judges of everyone’s performance. In other words, we move from being singers to being listeners, then, finally, to being consumers and self-appointed critics. In such a consumerist world, congregational singing suffers. Instead of praise being understood as a sacrificial gift to God; it becomes a human performance subject to critical analysis. (What did you think of the singing this morning?)

We moved all the chairs in our Worship Center Sunday afternoon so that the rows all faced toward the middle. And we spent an hour Sunday evening singing to our God AND to each other. Praising God, yes; but also teaching, encouraging, challenging, and loving each other with our songs. Instead of the backs of their heads, I got to see the faces of my brothers and sisters in full throat and wide smile as we sang together. And it was powerful.

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65 days until football season. And #65 is old Houston Oilers great Elvin Bethea. ElvinBetheaYou know, I’m a sucker for the old Houston Oilers. He played defensive end for the Oilers for 16 seasons, from 1968-83 and is the franchise’s all-time leader in sacks with 210. He played in 135 straight games until his streak was ended by a broken arm against the hated Raiders in ’79. Bethea is old school—he played in the very last AFL All-Star game in ’69. He was a vital part of those Luv Ya Blue teams of the late ’70s. But he was also the best player on those lousy teams of the late ’60s and early ’70s. He racked up a record 17 sacks on a 1-13 team in 1973. That’s why he was so beloved. The Oilers retired his #65 in 1983. But his memory lives on in the countdown.

Peace,

Allan

Sunday Night Fever

June 14, 2007 / / 0 Comments

The average attendance on our Sunday nights at Legacy for the 21 weeks from January to May was 349. And maybe (from what I’ve heard, remember, I’ve only been here for less than a month) nearly half of that number were not in the worship center with everyone else. They were up in the Attic, our youth facility, teenagers and adults, worshipping with the Youth Group.

We’re making a push this summer to reunite our church family on Sunday nights. A letter went out to all 556 family units last week, inviting everyone to come together on Sunday evenings for a time of worship and fellowship. And the response to what happened last Sunday night has been overwhelming! The place was packed with an official count of 440. There was hardly an empty seat. There was a “Sunday Morning” energy and excitement in the air that had us grinning from ear to ear. And it seems that everyone there was inspired by the beautiful singing, uplifted by the Scripture reading, and moved by the prayers. I’ve received emails, phone calls, and pats on the back all week. People who had not been to a Sunday night assembly in months were encouraged. Those who only come sporadically have vowed to never miss again.

 I’d like to take credit for it. I’d like to say it was me. (This honeymoon period is really nice, by the way.)

 But it’s our God.

Something special happens when ALL of God’s people come together to pay honor and glory to him. Something significant always happens when the ENTIRE family of faith gets together—young & old, men & women, babies & teenagers & parents & grandparents & great-grandparents—to praise our Father.

See, when we’re doing our own thing, we’re doing our own thing. And there’s nothing wrong with that. There’s certainly a time to get together with your own peer group and your own age group and your own economic group to worship and study and fellowship. And maybe Sunday night is a good time for that. I don’t know. But I think too much of that and too little of ALL OF US together can inadvertently foster feelings across the age groups of “if it doesn’t speak to me and it’s not planned with me in mind and if it’s not geared toward me and my group and serving my needs, I’ll go somewhere else. I’ll do something with my group that we’ll get something out of.”

Again, I think there is a time for that. But look at us now. We have two services on Sunday mornings, separate Bible classes on Wednesdays, and until last week, separate worship services on Sunday evenings. There was never a time when the ENTIRE church family was together in the same room doing the same thing together at the same time. Sunday night is our only opportunity to do that. And we were all moved by the experience.

 A family is only a family when the members of that family give and sacrifice for each other. The more we’re together, the more family we become. I don’t think it’s a generational thing. Older people blame the younger people and younger people blame the older people for whatever they perceive is wrong with the church. But it’s always surprising to me that when everybody sits down at a table together and just talks, we all think alike on just about everything. We just don’t realize it because we don’t do as much together as we used to. The more we’re together, the more we’ll see and feel and experience just how alike we all are. Our differences become small and insignificant when I’m sitting right next to you and singing with you to our God. Whatever our differences in age, background, race, or economics, they disappear in our worship.

 Our Life Groups will begin meeting again once school starts in September. And I’m convinced that those small groups are wonderful for forming meaningful relationships with brothers and sisters in Christ. I’m excited about the evangelism potential and the disciple-making possibilities of a reworked and rebooted Life Groups Ministry. Let’s do it.

 But this summer, I hope to see you with us at the building on Sunday nights.

OK, I’ve spent so much time and space on this, I have little room to go on and on about #77 in our countdown to football season. The greatest player to ever wear the #77 is the Galloping Ghost, Harold “Red” Grange. RedGrange

Grange the very first professional football “star,” drew enormous crowds for the Chicago Bears in the 1920s. One could argue that, without Grange, the NFL never would have gotten off the ground. He made it. He was what people paid to see. He single-handedly beat the Giants in the very first ever NFL Championship Game. A charter member of the Pro Football Hall of Fame, Red Grange is the best player to ever wear #77.77-RedGrange

Peace,

 Allan

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