Do you remember those mad rushes to church as a child? Awakened out of a sound peaceful sleep by an anxious parent. Cold cereal so that your stomach doesn’t growl during the silence. Clothes to put on that were a little too stiff, a little too clean, a little too much like they belonged to someone else. Shoes that hurt your feet, because you never wore them often enough to break them in. Hurry, we’re going to be late!
I wondered during worship this morning (yes I was day-dreaming) when the awful “had to go to church because my parents made me go” turned into “I can’t possibly miss, because I have an ache that needs worship salve, a spiritual void inside that needs to be filled.” When did my body and soul first feel hungry if a Sabbath passed and I did not gather with my sisters and brothers in faith? When was it that on vacation, I began by Thursday looking for a little church to worship with on Sunday?
Preaching almost every week came close to ruining me as a worshiper. Attending other churches on those few Sunday’s a year I had off, I was always rating the service : Music “B” – Liturgist “C” – Sermon “B-” – Continuity of theme “C” – Prayers “C-” When I first noticed that it was difficult for me to worship I chocked it up to being an occupational hazard. Like a medical doctor second guessing a diagnosis. But then I noticed it was that few and far between were the times when I experienced worship as I led worship. Worship was work. Sure there was that occasional hymn that lifted my eyes toward heaven… the testimony that came about an answered prayer that touched me deeply… Could being a worship leader really lead to a dullness of spirit or was it just me? It’s not the same for all ministers. I had a colleague who was fond of saying “there was a good spirit in the place this morning.” I always wondered how he had the time to notice.
My answer was to cram my worship drought (and Sabbath drought) into a week or two a year visiting the Abbey of Gethsemane (Holy Cross Monastery and St. Malo) where the monks kept the Rule of St. Benedict and the Divine Hours. During my week, I’d worship through the “hours” with the community at least as many as I could. So let’s do the math… 5 days at the monastery… worship 7 times a day in a community… that comes to 35 worship experiences. If I visit two monasteries a year… 70 worship experiences. That’s as far as my math skills will take me.
I’m excited about the possibilities for Sabbath’s future. I’m penitent about scoring my colleagues…even if it hasn’t stopped completely-the first step is admitting I was wrong. I’m dreaming about time to prepare personally and unhurriedly to meet God in corporate worship. I’m hoping I will experience what I taught my Confirmation classes… that the only audience member in worship is God, that I and the other worshipers are the actors in this play of worship, and the pastor and choir are simply directors trying to coach our heartfelt worship [thanks Kierkegaard].
Sabbath’s Future promise to be different from Sabbath’s Past. But isn’t that a good thing. My need for Sabbath is growing and that’s a good thing too. Blessings and joy. The Celtic Monk
The Celtic Monk Musings 