Nearing the End in Ahoskie

Sunday was a meaningful day for me in worship in Ahoskie. Kathy and I have two more Sundays with First Baptist, I believe, so I'm reflecting more and more on the meaning of our three years in this community and on the culmination of our work and learning here.

The service started with "God of Our Fathers" utilizing the recently expanded capabilities of our pipe organ. As I was pushing buttons and making enormous sounds, it occurred to me that I was operating one of the most powerful machines that an individual can operate in our vicinity - at least a very big musical machine. Normally, power like that doesn't mean much to me, but the freshness of the sound on this occasion invited me to think of God's power in a way that moved and instructed me.

When I first started playing for worship in Ahoskie, I was feeling the importance of imaging contemplation and gentleness through the way I played in most of our services. I was also trying to make sure the voices of the congregation were supported but not overwhelmed and that the people never felt oppressed by the sounds of the organ. These ideas are still at the core of my approach and personality, but on Sunday, I also felt comfortable with the way power was expressed through the musical rendering.

Why? The text of "God of Our Fathers" eventually focuses on Heaven and the resolution of our earthly conflicts. It lends itself to what I like to picture: the slain lamb returning in such glory that all our attempts at having power are simply irrelevant. I wonder if God's laughing at us, as is sometimes described in the Psalms, is not so much that we are in derision but that we're just funny in our self-importance.

It seems to me that it is not enough to stress God's power, because power alone is not what we believe to be God's essence. God's power is coupled with a willingness to become infinitesimal and totally vulnerable, and to sacrifice self. I can see more of the unique quality of the God of Christianity in this combination of unimaginable power and willingness to become tiny. The Trinity helps me hold all these aspects together in a single deity.

In addition, God's power must transcend all earthly power to an astronomical proportion. An earthly expression of power must be like a cut-out paper doll compared to the reality of the universal God. At the same time, I wonder if the true lowliness of Jesus also dramatically transcends all our human efforts at humility and service.

During Sunday's service, I played "Jesu, Jesu" as offertory, and I played it as expression of tenderness and intimacy. I sensed that I needed to do so to connect back to the grandeur of "God of Our Fathers" so that, all added up, we provided a fuller, truer picture of God's way with us.

The approach to playing for worship services that I have been developing in Ahoskie became crystal clear to me at that time: there need to be a variety of expressions in worship that are combined meaningfully to best convey a sense of the unique character of God. Transcendence is a profoundly stirring part of that unique character to my way of thinking. After considering God's utter transcendence in both powerfulness and powerlessness, I felt as though I had worshiped more thoroughly in spirit and truth than I usually do.

Worship, God's Image, Creativity

Daniel preached an excellent sermon this morning on worhsip. He drew our attention to the various words that relate to worship in the Bible. Of course, "worship" is an old English word meaning "to ascribe worth to." According to Daniel, the Hebrew scriptural word for worship actually means "to bow down" and the Greek New Testament word means "to serve." He pointed out that all of these concepts are verbs, not nouns - that worship is something we do, not so much an experience we receive (that would make worship into a noun).

Contemplating those three words, I note that the English word really means something different from the Biblical words. "To ascribe worth" suggests that we are somehow in a position to access the worth of our creator. That seems a little absurd to me. To bow down and to serve have none of that in them. Instead, they are acts of pure response to the Creator.

I've also been thinking once again about how we humans are created in God's image. Being in God's image, we, too, create. I think that means that on a fundamental, existential level, creativity has nothing to do with competition. At any rate, making music is a way of enacting being in God's image. The Psalmists repeatedly implore us to make music joyfully, and I think that flows naturally and logically from being made in God's image. What could be more basic and joyful than to recognize that we are creations and that we have a kinship with the Creator? There is nothing of the self to assert in this. Instead, we proclaim our gladness at being, at being creations, at being creations in relationship with the Creator, and at being something that the Creator has declared to be good!

Freshmen Devotionals

Last week was our last week of classes and our final devotional was as follows.

Musicians get very busy at Christmastime. There are extra concerts, church services, parties, etc., all of which require music.

Often we hear the complaint that the busy-ness and commercialism take us away from real devotion to Christ at Christmastime.

While the busy-ness of the Christmas season may distract us fom whatever routine of quiet time we may have, I think a healthier and more joyful approach to the situation might be to recognize that all the busy-ness, whether sacred or secular, is a reverberation of Christ coming into the world so many years ago.

Thus, as we go about the myriad of things we have to do in this season, we can engage in each of them worshipfully and joyfully as we remain mindful of Christ's coming that created this cultural rhythm that has endured for centuries.