Tag: Loud Praise

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Twelve Days of Advent – #11 Not a Silent Night

“And suddenly there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men.’”

Luke 2:13

As a worship leader I get to play a lot of music throughout the year. No time is more enjoyable for me than Advent and Christmas. The songs, the vocals, the arrangements, they all bring the season alive for me.

One of my favorite Christmas Season songs for worship is Andrew Peterson’s “Labor of love” (If you’ve never heard it, find a version here). The song is a unique reinterpretation of the traditional “Silent Night.” Rather than a quiet, peaceful version of Jesus’ birth, the lyrics depict a grittier, harsher world welcoming the Son of Man.

When we look at miniature nativity scenes, do we see something like this?

A radiant Mary, loving Joseph, gentle shepherds leaning on their staffs, perhaps a few wise men looking on with knowing smiles, glorious Angels heralding the miracle, a peaceful donkey and a couple of sheep … all focused on a beaming baby Jesus. A perfectly calm picture of tranquility, sanitized and airbrushed for our consumption.

Yet I imagine the real nativity scene was quite different.

A different kind of night

To begin with, what must it have been like for Joseph to take a nearly full-term Mary the 80+ hilly and winding miles on foot or riding a donkey from Nazareth to Bethlehem in response to the census decree from Caesar described in Luke 2? The tiny village of Bethlehem, by that time a sleepy town of about 300 people, would have swelled in size because of the census, on that night packed and noisy. The crowds were likely disgruntled at the inconvenience of the Roman census, pushing and shoving each other on the narrow streets.

On the road from Nazareth to Bethlehem today. Credit: www.nortonwheeler.com

Or consider the “shepherds in the fields” in verse 8. Imagine being these men, used to watching over their flocks all night, fighting off predators and poachers. They’re in no way timid or meek. Yet nothing has prepared them for the sight of an other-worldly being appearing from the skies and announcing the news of Jesus’ birth. Scripture tells us they were “terrified.”

Fear can be a powerful motivator. It causes us to be mistrustful and hurtful to each other. It closes our minds to those with whom we disagree. It causes us to lash out at those we see as different. We like our worlds to remain unchanging and predictable.

These shepherds had their worlds completely disrupted. Yet the Angel calms them, tells them not to be afraid and is joined a “multitude of the heavenly hosts” joining in praise.

Hardly a quiet night on the hillside.

Back at the stable and the manger, things are hardly more subdued. Unable to find accommodations Joseph was forced to bargain for a corner in a barn, probably suffering disdainful looks from other, more fortunate people who had warm fires and comfortable beds or pallets.

Mary has given birth – likely without a midwife or the comforting hands of her mother – surrounded by the raucous livestock of both Bethlehem’s residents and the visitors also there to complete the census. The scene is chaotic, noisy, dirty, and crowded.

Hardly the picture of a silent night.

Noisy, messy lives

Many of us can relate to this more realistic picture of Jesus’ birth. Like that night, our lives are gritty and crowded rather than airbrushed and pristine. Our days and nights are noisy, messy, often filled with angry voices and disdainful looks. We’re bombarded every day with messages of angst, anxiety, uncertainty.

Hope gives way to fear. Fear leads us to dread the future, uncertain of how we’ll get from day to day. We pray for grace and help while a nagging voice whispers deep inside us “what if He doesn’t answer?” Like the people of Israel during that long pause before Christ’s birth, we question how long we must wait for deliverance.

And so, we retreat inside ourselves, guarded and protective of our hearts, unwilling to engage the world in open and welcoming ways. Rejecting the needs of others, we focus on our own needs.

Credit: Billy Hunt

Hardly the makings of perfect lives.

In the midst of the chaos surrounding her, how did Mary respond? Scripture tells us she “treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart.” Mary’s answer to the pandemonium and disorder surrounding her was to praise God for His providence, thankful for the blessing He had bestowed. She prayed and opened this most vulnerable moment of her life to everyone around her, sharing freely the precious gift God and given to mankind.

Forgetful souls

Sometimes, even during Advent and Christmas, it’s easy for us to suffer from what 9th century Irish theologian John Scotus Eriugena called “forgetfulness of soul.” We forget to love, forget to give, forget to extend our hand to others. We sing carols, go to parties, buy tons of gifts but do not, as Mary did, “treasure things in our hearts.”

Today, this Eve of Arrival, let us remember that beyond the celebrations and decorations, the true meaning of Emmanuel, “God With Us” is as close as the next person we see. We were made in God’s image, created to emulate Him and love each other openly, abundantly, and without fear even in the midst of chaos.

God has never been silent, if we have ears to hear. He has never been invisible, if we have eyes to see. He invites us to encounter Him when we protect the weak, lift up the downtrodden, seek peace in the midst of enmity.

The angel proclaimed to the shepherds: “Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people.” As you celebrate this Christmas Eve, this closing of Advent, proclaim the Good News: Arrival is Nigh.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Twelve Days of Advent – #9 Radical Gratitude

“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 

Christian scholar Robert C. Roberts has written: “The Christian Faith is characterized by gratitude, a feeling of delight and intellectual excitement that our world is not only created by God but nourished by his gracious presence.”

I don’t know about you, but if I’m being confessionally honest I sometimes struggle with gratitude. Ok, let’s just be frank – I can be downright ungrateful. People can (and often do) frustrate and disappoint me. My expectations aren’t met. My needs don’t get the priority they deserve. My social media posts don’t get enough likes. My work colleagues don’t pull their weight. I’m not paid what I’m worth. My house isn’t big enough.

Sound familiar?

Of course, this isn’t really how I feel (much) but, especially during Advent and Christmas Season, I can’t help but catch myself sometimes forgetting how enormously blessed we all are. Blessed to be alive, blessed to know suffering, blessed to know love, blessed to be transformed by the presence of God.

Blessings and gratitude

These blessings are the source and foundation of gratitude. And gratitude grounded in the strength of God’s favor – regardless of our circumstances – can forge faith stronger than iron, unshakeable even in the face of adversity.

How, exactly, does gratitude deepen and strengthen our faith? In many ways, gratitude is like strenuous exercise, building our spiritual muscles the more we use it. In times of plenty, when our prayers are answered and we feel the bounty of God surrounding us, faith can be relatively effortless. We thank God for His goodness, but our gratitude requires little from us. Kind of like doing arm curls with 5 lb weights.

As Rick Warren has put it, “Anybody can thank God for good things.”

But what happens when times are not so good — when things just don’t seem to make sense, when events are spinning out of control? A sudden illness, the death of a loved one, fierce prayers answered with silence, when nothing is going the way we planned. Where is our gratitude in those moments?

“Thank you, sir, may I have another?”

It seems counterintuitive to offer gratitude in times of pain and hardship, almost like Kevin Bacon’s character in Animal House assuming the position and exclaiming “Thank you sir, may I have another?” as arch-nemesis Doug Neidermeyer wields a huge paddle over and over again. But in a sense, this is precisely what God asks of us.

“I’m not sure I felt that, sir! Try again?”

Gratitude in times of hardship stretches our faith beyond any capacity we ever imagined. As our spiritual faith strengthens, the roots of that faith grow deeper, more firmly planted in the “good soil” Jesus refers to in Matthew 13:8. When we offer our thanks to God as the prophet Jeremiah did in the midst of his imprisonment by King Nebuchadnezzar, God responds with “Behold, I am the Lord, the God of all flesh; is anything too difficult for Me?” (Jeremiah 32:27)

In the midst of our most dire circumstances, when we face the seemingly impossible, that’s when our gratitude should be its most impactful. It is in these times we should recall David’s words from Psalm 18: “The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer.”

The ultimate test

The ultimate test of our faith is exactly in the moments we think God has turned away (or, perhaps even doubt He was ever there). When hope seems gone, the future bleak, the promises we held close now broken, that’s when we should lift up our hearts to God in thanks, grateful that He is bigger than any problem we have, greater than any adversary.

“Though the fig tree should not blossom … I will rejoice in the God of my Salvation,” exclaims the prophet Habakkuk. In our darkest hours of waiting and fear, God hasn’t abandoned us. He remains where He has always been, standing right beside us ready to fill our hearts with His passion and lift us from the miry clay of our sorrow.

Paul writes in Colossians 2:7, “Sink your roots in him and build on him. Be strengthened by the faith that you were taught, and overflow with thanksgiving.” 

As this Advent season approaches its climax, remember the power of gratefulness even in the darkest nights. When we feel we’ve lost everything, let’s be thankful for the very breath we draw. Look for what we still have rather than what we don’t.

Sink your roots into the deep bedrock of faith, being grateful for God just being Himself and knowing He works all things to the good of those who love Him.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

Posted on

Twelve Days of Advent – #11 Not A Silent Night

“And suddenly there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men.’” (Luke 2:13)

As a worship leader I get to play a lot of music throughout the year. No time is more enjoyable for me than Advent and Christmas. The songs, the vocals, the arrangements, they all bring the season alive for me.

One of my favorite Christmas Season songs for worship is Andrew Peterson’s “Labor of love” (If you’ve never heard it, find a version here). The song is a unique reinterpretation of the traditional “Silent Night.” Rather than a quiet, peaceful version of Jesus’ birth, the lyrics depict a grittier, harsher world welcoming the Son of Man.

When we look at miniature nativity scenes, do we see something like this?

A radiant Mary, loving Joseph, gentle shepherds leaning on their staffs, perhaps a few wise men looking on with knowing smiles, glorious Angels heralding the miracle, a peaceful donkey and a couple of sheep … all focused on a beaming baby Jesus. A perfectly calm picture of tranquility, sanitized and airbrushed for our consumption.

Yet I imagine the real nativity scene was quite different.

A Different Night

To begin with, what must it have been like for Joseph to take a nearly full-term Mary the 80+ hilly and winding miles on foot or riding a donkey from Nazareth to Bethlehem in response to the census decree from Caesar described in Luke 2? The tiny village of Bethlehem, by that time a sleepy town of about 300 people, would have swelled in size because of the census, on that night packed and noisy. The crowds were likely disgruntled at the inconvenience of the Roman census, pushing and shoving each other on the narrow streets.

On the road from Nazareth to Bethlehem today. Credit: www.nortonwheeler.com

Or consider the “shepherds in the fields” in verse 8. Imagine being these men, used to watching over their flocks all night, fighting off predators and poachers. They’re in no way timid or meek. Yet nothing has prepared them for the sight of an other-worldly being appearing from the skies and announcing the news of Jesus’ birth. Scripture tells us they were “terrified.”

Fear can be a powerful motivator. It causes us to be mistrustful and hurtful to each other. It closes our minds to those with whom we disagree. It causes us to lash out at those we see as different. We like our worlds to remain unchanging and predictable.

These shepherds had their worlds completely disrupted. Yet the Angel calms them, tells them not to be afraid and is joined a “multitude of the heavenly hosts” joining in praise.

Hardly a quiet night on the hillside.

Back at the stable and the manger, things are hardly more subdued. Unable to find accommodations Joseph was forced to bargain for a corner in a barn, probably suffering disdainful looks from other, more fortunate people who had warm fires and comfortable beds or pallets.

Mary has given birth – likely without a midwife or the comforting hands of her mother – surrounded by the raucous livestock of both Bethlehem’s residents and the visitors also there to complete the census. The scene is chaotic, noisy, dirty, and crowded.

Hardly the picture of a silent night.

Noisy Lives

Many of us can relate to this more realistic picture of Jesus’ birth. Like that night, our lives are gritty and crowded rather than airbrushed and pristine. Our days and nights are noisy, messy, often filled with angry voices and disdainful looks. We’re bombarded every day with messages of angst, anxiety, uncertainty.

Hope gives way to fear. Fear leads us to dread the future, uncertain of how we’ll get from day to day. We pray for grace and help while a nagging voice whispers deep inside us “what if He doesn’t answer?” Like the people of Israel during that long pause before Christ’s birth, we question how long we must wait for deliverance.

And so, we retreat inside ourselves, guarded and protective of our hearts, unwilling to engage the world in open and welcoming ways. Rejecting the needs of others, we focus on our own needs.

Credit: Billy Hunt

Hardly the makings of perfect lives.

In the midst of the chaos surrounding her, how did Mary respond? Scripture tells us she “treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart.” Mary’s answer to the pandemonium and disorder surrounding her was to praise God for His providence, thankful for the blessing He had bestowed. She prayed and opened this most vulnerable moment of her life to everyone around her, sharing freely the precious gift God and given to mankind.

Forgetful Souls

Sometimes, even during Advent and Christmas, it’s easy for us to suffer from what 9th century Irish theologian John Scotus Eriugena called “forgetfulness of soul.” We forget to love, forget to give, forget to extend our hand to others. We sing carols, go to parties, buy tons of gifts but do not, as Mary did, “treasure things in our hearts.”

Today, this Eve of Arrival, let us remember that beyond the celebrations and decorations, the true meaning of Emmanuel, “God With Us” is as close as the next person we see. We were made in God’s image, created to emulate Him and love each other openly, abundantly, and without fear even in the midst of chaos.

God has never been silent, if we have ears to hear. He has never been invisible, if we have eyes to see. He invites us to encounter Him when we protect the weak, lift up the downtrodden, seek peace in the midst of enmity.

The angel proclaimed to the shepherds: “Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people.” As you celebrate this Christmas Eve, this closing of Advent, proclaim the Good News: Arrival is Nigh.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

Posted on

Twelve Days of Advent #9 – Radical Gratitude

“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)

Christian scholar Robert C. Roberts has written: “The Christian Faith is characterized by gratitude, a feeling of delight and intellectual excitement that our world is not only created by God but nourished by his gracious presence.”

I don’t know about you, but if I’m being confessionally honest I sometimes struggle with gratitude. Ok, let’s just be frank – I can be downright ungrateful. People can frustrate and disappoint me. My expectations aren’t met. My needs don’t get the priority they deserve. My social media posts don’t get enough likes. My work colleagues don’t pull their weight. I’m not paid what I’m worth. My house isn’t big enough.

Sound familiar?

Of course, this isn’t really how I feel (much) but, especially during Advent and Christmas Season, I can’t help but catch myself sometimes forgetting how enormously blessed we all are. Blessed to be alive, blessed to know suffering, blessed to know love, blessed to be transformed by the presence of God.

Blessings and Gratitude

These blessings are the source and foundation of gratitude. And gratitude grounded in the strength of God’s favor – regardless of our circumstances – can forge faith stronger than iron, unshakeable even in the face of adversity.

How, exactly, does gratitude deepen and strengthen our faith? In many ways, gratitude is like strenuous exercise, building our spiritual muscles the more we use it. In times of plenty, when our prayers are answered and we feel the bounty of God surrounding us, faith can be relatively effortless. We thank God for His goodness, but our gratitude requires little from us. Kind of like doing arm curls with 5 lb weights.

As Rick Warren has put it, “Anybody can thank God for good things.”

But what happens when times are not so good — when things just don’t seem to make sense, when events are spinning out of control? A sudden illness, the death of a loved one, fierce prayers answered with silence, when nothing is going the way we planned. Where is our gratitude in those moments?

“Thanks sir, may I have another?”

It seems counterintuitive to offer gratitude in times of pain and hardship, almost like Kevin Bacon’s character in Animal House assuming the position and exclaiming “Thank you sir, may I have another?” as arch-nemesis Doug Neidermeyer wields a huge paddle over and over again. But in a sense, this is precisely what God asks of us.

“I’m not sure I felt that, sir! Try again?”

Gratitude in times of hardship stretches our faith beyond any capacity we ever imagined. As our spiritual faith strengthens, the roots of that faith grow deeper, more firmly planted in the “good soil” Jesus refers to in Matthew 13:8. When we offer our thanks to God as the prophet Jeremiah did in the midst of his imprisonment by King Nebuchadnezzar, God responds with “Behold, I am the Lord, the God of all flesh; is anything too difficult for Me?” (Jeremiah 32:27)

In the midst of our most dire circumstances, when we face the seemingly impossible, that’s when our gratitude should be its most impactful. It is in these times we should recall David’s words from Psalm 18: “The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer.”

The Ultimate Test

The ultimate test of our faith is exactly in the moments we think God has turned away (or, perhaps even doubt He was ever there). When hope seems gone, the future bleak, the promises we held close now broken, that’s when we should lift up our hearts to God in thanks, grateful that He is bigger than any problem we have, greater than any adversary.

“Though the fig tree should not blossom … I will rejoice in the God of my Salvation,” exclaims the prophet Habakkuk. In our darkest hours of waiting and fear, God hasn’t abandoned us. He remains where He has always been, standing right beside us ready to fill our hearts with His passion and lift us from the miry clay of our sorrow.

Paul writes in Colossians 2:7, “Sink your roots in him and build on him. Be strengthened by the faith that you were taught, and overflow with thanksgiving.” 

As this Advent season approaches its climax, remember the power of gratefulness even in the darkest nights. When we feel we’ve lost everything, let’s be thankful for the very breath we draw. Look for what we still have rather than what we don’t.

Sink your roots into the deep bedrock of faith, being grateful for God just being Himself and knowing He works all things to the good of those who love Him.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

Posted on

Shouts! Not Silence

“Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad; let the sea resound, and all that is in it; let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them. Then all the trees of the forest will sing for joy; they will sing before the LORD” – Psalm 96:11-13

A few months ago my wife and I went on a traditional “dinner and a movie” date. Now, this may be no great feat for many of you but with our competing schedules finding time for the just the two of us to get out on a Friday night rather resembles 3-D relationship Tetris!

It was fun – seafood enchiladas at one of our favorite Mexican hangouts, then onto popcorn, diet soda (yeah, I know all about how bad the scientists now say they are), the obligatory box of Nestlé Buncha Crunch and a giant pickle – my infernal movie time addiction.  You can see another reason we don’t get out much …

So in we settled, laughing at the campy trivia questions before the previews, making mental notes to see three upcoming films soon to be released, then sitting back as the feature started.

I canNOT believe she just did that!

Everything was going great! Right up until about 5:27 into the movie, when three girls, er, women behind us – apparently on some sort of girlfriends’ date that I still have never completely understood – began whispering. And not that hushed, sotto voce whisper used for secretive exchanges, mind you. Instead, this was that loud stage whisper people use to make sure those of us all the way on the back row of the balcony are in on their little secret.

For the next hour and thirty-nine minutes, we were treated to a running narrative accompanying the movie soundtrack filled with stories from their personal lives, punctuated with comments like “she’s sooooo adorable,” and “omg! That so reminds me of …” and, well you get the picture.

Somewhere deep inside me still lives the polite Southern Gentleman my momma raised me to be. Accordingly, I held my tongue. But let me be clear: I wasn’t happy. I mean look – I paid my $24 for the tickets and don’t even get me started about the bailout loan I needed for the concessions. This was my movie, by God, and I wanted SILENCE. Why can’t people just learn to sit down and shut up?

I thought about this later after the side-effects of aspartame and salt had subsided. And I flashed back to an altogether different conversation I overheard several years ago in another place between two Elders of a church I was visiting.

Basically, the thread of the discussion revolved around their belief in an “accepted doctrine” view of scripture at odds with the Senior Pastor’s vision for their church. Apparently, and much to the dismay of these two Elders, the Senior Pastor felt that human beings were actually allowed and even *gasp* encouraged to respirate and vocalize during sacred worship time.

Image courtesy of escholarship.org

Their position – and I exaggerate here only very slightly for dramatic effect – was that God means for us to sit somberly and quietly in our pews on Sunday mornings, moving and making noise only when absolutely necessary and as directed by the proper order of service elements by duly appointed conveyors of said accepted doctrine.

Granted, this was an extreme example of doctrinaire imperialism. Few of us today would be so dogmatic as to suggest our fellow congregants “sit down and shut up” (with the possible exception of when attending services at the Inner Springs Church of the Posturepedic). Yet over the years I’ve noticed another, more subtle form of that perspective still spreading through our churches every day: silent solemnity.

Surely you’ve seen it: the long, serious faces on Sunday morning, the stiff backs in pew after pew, the awkwardness when standing for readings or singing; the hesitance to utter any syllable other than a Corporate “amen;” for the most part, a complete lack of joy or emotion in the midst of God’s presence.

I have nothing at all against quiet contemplation. Some of my most profound worship experiences have come when the sheer impact of God’s unfathomable power and love for creation simply overwhelms the soul and the only response is hushed union with the Word. These are moments where all of us can let the noise and clutter of our lives fall away as we’re drawn into the very presence of God.

Yet it strikes me that God wants more than our solemn silence. I’m reminded of this every time I open my Bible to the Book of Psalms, especially Psalms 92-98. Time and again in these verses we read of exhortations and counsel concerning how and why and what we should bring to God in celebration of His majesty. Rarely are we instructed to fall silent and mute in God’s midst. Rather, we’re encouraged to do just the opposite!

God’s manifest act of creation and the resulting kaleidoscope of human experience accompanying our attempts – however imperfect – to enter into communion with God’s creative spirit, are both borne out of joy and delight, not solemnity and seriousness. Momentarily set aside qualms over scripture-as-literal-fact-versus-allegory and look at the astounding language of creation from Genesis 1: God speaks and life explodes. Or the Birth Narrative in the Book of Luke, Chapter 2: Christ is born into the world and countless angels thunder their joy in song.

King David sang, and shouted with joy, and even danced before the glory of God. We read in 2 Samuel 6 that as David brought the Ark from the house of Abinadab he and all his men – the whole house of Israel – were “celebrating with all their might before the LORD, with songs and with harps, lyres, tambourines, sistrums and cymbals.”

Even in my own experience as a worship leader, I’m struck by the difference in reactions to various services, and how an engaged congregation produces a vibrant, almost electric atmosphere that is literally charged with the power of humans accepting and rejoicing in the presence of God.

The God in my Bible is a God of Life, always in motion, imploring humanity to live our lives in love and celebration of each gifted day 

It seems odd to me that God would prefer our silence and stern faces to our laughter and joyful hearts. Didn’t Jesus surround himself with children as often as he could? Isn’t life itself a celebration of God’s love for His creation? Aren’t we encouraged to rejoice at our reborn spirits? This is how I imagine the true worship of our Creator – shouts of joy and wonderment, not silent vows of pinched frowns and uncomfortable postures masking thoughts of brunch plans and afternoon tee times.

One of my favorite verses in the New Testament is found in Matthew 22. Jesus is engaged in a tedious debate with the Sadducees about resurrection theology, a notion they ardently reject, as once again they attempt to trip Jesus up in details. Deftly defeating their argument, Jesus closes with this statement: “God is not God of the dead, but of the living” (verse 32). I love this! The God in my Bible is a God of Life, always in motion, imploring humanity to live our lives in love and celebration of each gifted day we enjoy.

So the next time you feel an urge to shout out for joy, or close your eyes and raise your hands when singing a song of praise, or simply laugh at the sheer wonderment of creation, bring it on! But please, just make sure you silence that cell phone before the movie starts! Oh – and leave the life stories for drinks afterward.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17