Perceptions from a Pewboy

While on vacation recently, I read John Updike’s novel Terrorist, published in 2006. I have enjoyed Updike’s work over the years. I like the pace and rhythm of his storytelling, not to mention the complexity of his characters.

Described by one critic as “perhaps the most essential novel to emerge from the events of September 11th,” Terrorist is the story of Ahmad Ashmawy, an American-born teenager and Muslim who finds himself becoming increasingly alienated in the midst of what he perceives to be the rampant materialism and hedonism of American culture. His distaste for the American lifestyle soon becomes a disdain that renders him highly susceptible to a terroristic ethos. In the novel, Updike offers an intriguing and disturbing glimpse of the formation and cultivation of a terrorist. That may not be a story that any of us wants to hear. I wonder, though, if we can afford NOT to hear such a story.

At one point in the novel, Ahmad visits a Christian worship service and is greatly troubled by what he perceives to be a lack of reverence for God’s holiness. The narrator describes Ahmad’s worship experience in this fashion:

The church is nearly full, and none but the front pews, apparently the less desirable, are empty. Accustomed to worshipers squatting and kneeling on a floor, emphasizing God’s height above them, Ahmad feels, even seated, dizzily, blasphemously tall. The Christian attitude of lazily sitting erect as at an entertainment suggests that God is an entertainer who, when He ceases to entertain, can be removed from the stage, and another act brought on.

Ahmad’s discomfort at Christianity’s tendency to reduce worship to simplistic “entertainment” resonates with me. Gravitation toward superficial titillation in worship (or, to put it crassly, a fondness for cheap liturgical thrills) is an issue with which I personally struggle as a pastor whose vocation, in many ways, revolves around the responsibility of helping people to worship well. This is not an issue of “contemporary” versus “traditional,” by the way. All styles of liturgy have the potential to become distorted in such a way that entertainment or spectacle is valued over authentic reverence.

I do not mean to overstate my concern here. It is true, after all, that, unlike Islam, the story at the heart of Christianity is the story of an incarnate God, a God who is among us in a way that is transformationally relational and personal. Therefore, we rightly reject the idea that God is unreachably distant. My fear, however, is that we often jump to the other theological extreme. We often reduce our incarnational theology to an eagerness to make God into something idolatrously cozy and selfishly personal—a divine grandparent who coddles us, winks at our misbehavior, and serves up comfortable grace like warm apple pie.

Could it be that we have allowed God to become so familiar, so common, that our worship is often more about our personal proclivities (or entertainment) than it is about making ourselves available to the scandalous, unsettling, and transformational presence of the Holy Other?

Ahmad did not sense genuine reverence in his experience with Christian worship. I suppose that we might be quick to dismiss his observations as nothing more than the biased critique of an ungracious Muslim.

But does he have a point?

“Sing aloud to God our strength,” proclaims the psalmist in the 81st psalm. “Shout for joy to the God of Jacob.”

In this directive moment of Scripture, the psalmist, of course, is demanding a particular kind of worship from his audience—passionate and vibrant worship; worship that involves loud singing and shouts of praise; worship that can be rendered only by people who are deeply invested in the One whom they are worshiping.

“Raise a song,” writes the psalmist, “sound the tambourine, play the sweet lyre and the harp, blow the trumpet, for I am the Lord your God who brought you up out of the land of Egypt”

Part of my personal fondness for the psalmist’s vision of worship in Psalm 81 is due to his conviction that all musical instruments are to be used in the community’s worship of God: not simply the voice, but also the harp with its seamless flourishes; and not simply the harp, but also the lyre with its sweet intonations; and not simply the lyre, but also the tambourine with its unsettling percussion; and not simply the tambourine, but also the trumpet and other wind instruments with their unparalleled brightness.

We could add to the list without changing the meaning of the text. God is to be praised not simply with the organ but also with the keyboard. And not simply with the keyboard but also with guitars and drums and clarinets and flutes. God is to be praised with traditional hymnody. (Yes! Absolutely! We jettison the theological poetry and evocative arrangements of traditional hymnody at our great peril.) But God is also to be praised with contemporary and meditative praise choruses.

Dare I say it: God is to be praised both by people who like to hold a hymnal and people who prefer looking at a screen!

In the 81st Psalm, one encounters a worshiper who advocates using every possible musical expression in the worship of God. It is an advocacy emerging from the psalmist’s conviction that the God of Jacob deserves something more than a single kind of music or a single kind of instrument. In fact, as the psalmist makes clear, the God of Jacob is so vast in nature and so majestic in sovereignty that the only worship that will ultimately suffice is the kind of worship that utilizes every portion of the music that God makes possible: the harp, the lyre, the tambourine, the trumpet, the voice, and every other musical expression that humankind can possibly render.

“Bring it all,” says the psalmist, “for we are worshiping a God who deserves all the world’s music.”

Therein lies the theological foundation upon which the psalmist’s liturgical framework stands. He seems to be absolutely convinced that authentic worship is far more about God than it is about us—far more about God’s creative glorification than it is about our musical preferences and proclivities. If this is indeed the case—if worship is indeed more about encountering a vast and unsettling Creator than it is about catering to the liturgical whims of a particular congregation—then how can worshipers spiritually afford to settle for anything less in their worship than creativity, artistic diversity, and a stubborn resistance to liturgical myopia?

A few years ago, the church to which I was appointed sent a mission team of 15 youth and 11 adults to the gulf coast in Mississippi. I was privileged to be part of that team. We worked hard to help people to rebuild or repair their homes. We established relationships with the homeowners, thereby helping them to understand that we cared about them and not just their property. Then on Friday night (our last night there), we held a closing worship service.

Interestingly, the worship service was held, not in a sanctuary, but a dining hall. There were no bulletins. No organs or keyboards. No shirts and ties. No liturgical garments. There were just 26 tired but spiritually attentive souls making themselves available to the presence of God in worship at the end of what had been an important week of ministry. We sang some familiar hymns and choruses. We talked about the things for which we were grateful that night. We heard from Scripture. And then we shared the bread and cup of the Lord’s Supper, both of which tasted particularly sweet that night.

At some point during that worship experience, we sang a version of “Amazing Grace” that that particular group of worshipers had come to treasure. When it was finished, one could have heard a pin drop in that large dining hall. It was a reverent silence into which we had been ushered by the Holy Spirit, the kind of supernatural silence in which the still small voice of God often makes its way into the deepest chambers of a human soul.

Following the worship service, I sat down beside one of the youth who seemed to have been very moved by the experience. “Wow,” he said. “I wish that every worship service could be like that.”

“What do you think it was that made it so special,” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But it was like Jesus was here—right here—and nobody wanted to think about anything else but him.”

I decided to take the risk of asking another question:

“What do you think it would take to make every one of our worship services like that?”

His response was as heartfelt as it was insightful: “I’m no expert,” he said, “But maybe it has to start with people believing that Jesus is really here. Maybe if we really believed it—maybe if we REALLY believed that Jesus is showing up and paying attention to what we are doing— then worship would always feel like something big and important.”

In some ways, that young man was giving expression to the very same message that the psalmist articulates in Psalm 81, and the message is this: If we really believe that God is the recipient of our worship, and if we really believe that the presence of God is manifesting itself in our worship (in other words, if we really believe that Jesus shows up and pays attention when we worship), then worship is always something big and important—something deserving of every musical instrument that we can fit into the sanctuary! If we really believe that we are glorifying the majesty of the triune God and not simply going through the motions, then worship is always something that deserves quiet lyres and loud trumpets!

“Sing aloud to God our strength,” writes the psalmist. “Shout for joy to the God of Jacob. Raise a song, blow the trumpet—use every musical instrument you have!” To read these words as Scripture is to come to the conclusion that the discipline of worship is God’s ordinance and God’s timeless decree. Authentic worship ushers us into the presence of God in ways that are particularly transformational and revelatory. In fact, the psalmist would have us believe that the discipline of worship is to our soul what breathing is to the body. It is just that urgent and just that essential.

So, I’ve been doing a bit of thinking about Pope Benedict’s recent clarification of the teachings put forth by the Second Ecumenical Council of the Vatican (better known as Vatican II), held from 1962 through 1965.

I am using my language here carefully. Notice that I describe what Benedict did as a “clarification” rather than a “correction.” Having recently reread a portion of the Vatican II documents, I find that clarification is the more appropriate term. What Benedict did, in other words, was to illuminate what was already there.

I have been surprised to encounter a number of people (Protestant and Roman Catholic) who are very upset at what they perceive to be Benedict’s complete reversal of the direction of Vatican II. My fear, however, is that their anger has been fueled both by the media’s sensationalistic distortions of Benedict’s comments and by a lack of understanding of what Vatican II really said. It is certainly true, after all, that many Protestants and Catholics have treated Vatican II as an ecumenical panacea and a dismissal of all obstacles in the relationship between Christian traditions. Vatican II was important, to be sure. But it did not make as many concessions as some wishful thinkers would have us believe. Benedict, I think, was simply clarifying the matter.

For example, this is what the Vatican II document says in its DECREE ON ECUMENISM:

Nevertheless, our separated brethren, whether considered as individuals or as Communities and Churches, are not blessed with that unity which Jesus Christ wished to bestow on all those who through Him were born again into one body, and with Him quickened to newness of life-that unity which the Holy Scriptures and the ancient Tradition of the Church proclaim. For it is only through Christ’s Catholic Church, which is “the all-embracing means of salvation,” that they can benefit fully from the means of salvation. We believe that Our Lord entrusted all the blessings of the New Covenant to the apostolic college alone, of which Peter is the head, in order to establish the one Body of Christ on earth to which all should be fully incorporated who belong in any way to the people of God.

Therefore, when Benedict maintains that Protestant communities of faith, “according to Catholic doctrine, cannot be called ‘Churches’ in the proper sense,” he is merely clarifying what Vatican II already maintains. According to Roman Catholic doctrine, we, as Protestants, bear witness to the Church, but we are not the Church.

All of which is to say that, although I disagree with it, I am not greatly troubled by the language of Benedict’s recent clarification. The language, in fact, was already in place. I am troubled, however, by the tone and the timing of the clarification. Vatican II’s greatest strength was its tone of graciousness toward Protestant communities, affirming that, although Protestants are not yet part of the truest expression of the Church, Christ is nevertheless “present and operative in our ecclesial Communities.” This was an enormous acknowledgement in the ecumenical relationship. My fear is that the tone of Benedict’s recent clarification implies a papal eagerness both to shore up the boundaries and to highlight the separation.

Also, I will be curious to see the impact of Benedict’s MOTU PROPRIO (”of his own accord”) concerning the revival of the Latin mass. I wonder how this will play out in the current Roman Catholic liturgical milieu. Who knows? It could lead to what one might call a “Missal crisis!”

Sorry about that. You’ve been great. I’ll be here all week. Try the veal.

When it comes to singing the hymns and choruses of faith, how do you feel about your congregation’s level of investment?

I have pastored four churches thus far. Quite frankly, the most passionate singers that I have encountered in those four pastorates were the folks in the 75-member church that I pastored as a seminarian during my years in North Carolina. They sang with conviction, as though they believed the message in their music were nothing less than urgent in its content. They sang with joy, as though they believed that they were actually supposed to be happy about what they were singing. They sang loudly, as though they believed that mumbling their way through a hymn were simply not an option.

It is not at all my intention to disparage the other congregations that I have been privileged to serve. They are dear to my heart as well. But, when it comes to singing the faith, those saints in rural North Carolina taught me some things. They taught me that our hymns and choruses are not simply liturgical connectors linking one part of worship to another. Nor are the hymns and choruses merely preparation for the proclamation of God’s Word. Rather, our music IS the proclamation of God’s Word. Beyond that, our music is our only appropriate response to a God who deserves more than the mundane tones of a spoken voice. God, in other words, deserves the multi-tonality of a singing congregation.

One of my great frustrations in ministry is the singing of some of our congregations. Some congregants simply stand there and look bored until the singing stops, stubbornly refusing even to mouth the words. Some bury their faces into a hymnal (which, by the way, is not much better than staring blankly at a video screen). Some read the bulletin to fill the time until the final chord is struck. Such an environment makes me all the more grateful for those who sing with a spirit of vibrancy and joy.

I am not insensitive to the fact that many worshipers are tone deaf and otherwise musically challenged. I am not suggesting that every worshiper has to be a gifted musician. My sense, however, is that the blandness of much of our congregational singing has less to do with musicianship and more to do with a lack of spiritual investment in the discipline of singing our faith.

I am currently reading a book by Paul Minear entitled THE BIBLE AND THE HISTORIAN (Breaking the Silence About God in Biblical Studies). In the book, Minear devotes a chapter to this great hymn of faith incorporated by the Apostle Paul in his letter to the Philippian church:

Though he [Christ] was in the form of God, he did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness…
(Philippians 2:6-7)

Minear offers these insights concerning the importance of this hymn to the first century church:

The hymn functioned in such a way as to shape the mind of the congregation and to clarify its sense of vocation. Emerging from deep levels of communal experience, the song articulated in both verbal and musical terms a rich cargo of nonverbal affections and emotions. It elicited memories that were relevant to meeting current dilemmas and dangers. The hymn assumes that the story of Jesus is prototypical of the story of the Messiah’s family. By singing it the congregation affirmed a hidden conjunction between God’s exaltation of Jesus and God’s design for all things. (THE BIBLE AND THE HISTORIAN, page 249)

I find myself wondering how many of our people look upon the hymns and choruses as a clarification of our vocation and “a rich cargo of nonverbal affections.” How might the tone and spirit of our congregational singing change if people understood worship music to be an expression of the “conjunction between God’s exaltation of Jesus and God’s design for all things?” What can I do as a pastor to help the congregation (including yours truly) to grow in its theological appreciation for the purpose and function of music in the church’s liturgy?

These are some of the questions that this humble old pewboy is asking as he prepares to lead his congregation in worship once again.

It is certainly not my intention to belabor a point, but my last post (related to a workshop on worship that I recently facilitated) inspired some good and thoughtful chat here in the confines of blog-land.

So, here is another list of personal convictions that I shared with the workshop participants.

The list of convictions in my last post focused on music ministry. This list is a bit broader in its scope and touches upon different components of the journey toward a new worship experience.

Of course, each one of these convictions deserves an entire post and then some. I list them briefly here simply for the purpose of inspiring further thought and exploration.

Some Personal Convictions
Concerning the Development and Implementation
of a New Worship Experience
Eric Park (June 2007)

1. A creative and committed Vision Team is essential in the process of dreaming and planning a new worship experience.

(Many congregations fail in their development of new worship experiences because they do not allow sufficient time in the dreaming and planning phase. The dreaming and planning phase, if managed well, will generate the vision and passion necessary to sustain the new worship experience even after it loses its sense of newness. It is critical that those chosen for this vision team are creative in their thinking, committed in their worship life, and gracious in their demeanor. Allow more time for this dreaming and planning phase than you think that it will require. It is best for the Vision Team to be facilitated or convened by a leader who understands the liturgical components and some portion of the history of Christian worship.)

2. The work of the Vision Team must include both liturgical dialogue and liturgical experience (i.e., both conversation ABOUT worship and participation in the innovative worship offered by other congregations).

(Experiencing the worship offered by other congregations can be an enormous help in the development of vision concerning what new or different worship might look like. It must remain clear to all members of the vision team, however, that, when they visit other churches, it is not for the purpose of finding a liturgical blueprint to steal. Rather, it is for the purpose of gaining new insight and fresh inspiration that might undergird the team’s ongoing work.)

3. When dealing with the church’s administrative process, it is far better to ask for permission than forgiveness.

(Accountability to the Church Council—or whatever your church’s governing body might be—is not to be underestimated. Regular and articulate presentations to the Church Council can go a long way toward helping the church’s administrative officers to feel invested in the new worship experience.)

4. When choosing the day and time for the new worship service, it is sometimes more helpful to run than to fight.

(Congregations can be enormously protective of their Sunday morning patterns and routines. Sometimes—not always, but sometimes—holding a new worship service on a Saturday or Sunday night is a good way of avoiding unnecessary warfare and congregational turmoil.)

5. If the pastor and church staff are not fully invested in the new worship experience, then your church is probably not ready for a new worship experience.

(The pastor and staff are the leaders from whom the congregation will take its cues in responding to the new worship experience. Their full and enthusiastic support, therefore, is nothing less than crucial.)

6. The congregation will not support what it does not understand.

(It is essential, then, that at least two months are devoted to the task of interpreting the new worship experience to the existing congregation. This can and must be done through every medium: newsletter; website; postcards and letters; and, perhaps especially, preaching and teaching.)

7. Worship is not fundamentally about technology, but a sanctuary that is not technologically equipped can hinder worship’s impact.

(The months of planning and preparation leading up to a new worship experience must also include the technological upgrades that the new worship will require.)

8. The placement of the right leaders in the right positions on a worship team is every bit as important as finding the right preacher, if not more so.

(In addition to having the right man or woman to preach the Word, a new worship experience will require a variety of gifted and growing leaders, each of whom must organize a team that will function under his or her leadership. The following list is meant to provide insight concerning the types of leaders who may very well be necessary in the implementation phase of a worship initiative.)

-A MUSICAL LEADER is crucial, a musician whose musicianship is matched by his or her love for God and his or her ever-expanding repertoire. In most circumstances, this musical leader will be responsible for the recruitment, training, and organization of a growing team of musicians that will provide the ministry of music at the new worship experience.

-A WORSHIP LEADER is also crucial. This will be someone who provides a winsome “platform presence” and who can offer spoken prayer and liturgical leadership in a way that is both articulate and evocative. In many churches, the worship leader and the musical leader are often one in the same. But this might not make sense in certain church settings.

-A TECHNOLOGICAL LEADER is a must, especially if your worship experience is audio-visually complex. It helps if the technological leader is highly competent in the areas of lighting, sound, video, and computer technology. It will be the technological leader’s responsibility to build a team of techno-wizards to support the new worship experience.

-The need for a CHILDCARE COORDINATOR or OVERSEER requires no elaboration. Creative care for the young sheep of the fold is never to be minimized.

-A HOSPITALITY COORDINATOR is a key component in any new worship experience. He or she will recruit the ushers and greeters and will work to create an hospitable environment in the lobby or narthex.

-If a new worship experience is going to become everything that God wants it to become, a PRAYER TEAM, overseen by a PRAYER TEAM LEADER, must be in place. This team will be responsible for praying before, during, and after worship. It is helpful if some members of the team are available to pray and talk with those who are in need of such ministry following the worship experience.

9. If the aforementioned leaders do not find a way to work in sync, worship will have a schizophrenic character.

(Part of the overseeing pastor’s responsibility is to find a way to make certain that the different leaders are operating with a similar vision and liturgical understanding. This may require weekly or monthly meetings. It will also surely involve the nurturing of an environment in which all of the leaders feel challenged and appreciated.)

10. A new worship experience will only be as deep as the prayer that undergirds it.

(The prayer of righteous people, according to Scripture, is powerful and effective. Any new worship experience, therefore, must be saturated in the earnest prayers of God’s people. Prayer, quite simply, is the primary conduit through which the Holy Spirit can make his way into a new ministry of worship.)

I spent a good portion of last week at Olmsted Manor (a United Methodist retreat center just outside of Kane, Pennsylvania). I was there for the purpose of facilitating a 4-day workshop on the subject of creating new worship experiences in church settings where there are already well-established services of worship. About 40 people were present for the workshop. Most of the people were over the age of 50, and most were United Methodist by denomination (although there were a few Lutherans and Presbyterians in the mix). All but a couple of the participants were non-clergy.

The dialogue in the workshop was rich in its content and vibrant in its spirit. It made me remember how much I love discussing liturgical matters with people who are passionate about worship.

One of my first orders of business was to articulate my reluctance to employ adjectives like “traditional” and “contemporary” when describing worship, since so much of what we call “contemporary” these days is not really all that new. Likewise, so much of what we call “traditional” only goes back a century or so. The flippant and imprecise usage of such adjectives simply bears witness to the poverty of nomenclature with which we struggle in our conversations about worship.

Not surprisingly, the issue that generated the most conversation at the workshop was the issue of music.

Just in case you might be interested, the following is a list of convictions that I shared with the workshop participants. This list represents some of my most deeply held beliefs concerning the development of music ministry in newer worship events. As you might imagine, this list generated a great deal of conversation in the workshop.

Some Personal Convictions
Concerning the Development and Implementation
of the Music Ministry for a New Worship Experience
Eric Park (June 2007)

1. Church musicians emerge from strange places. Sometimes they are to be found in congregations. Other times, they are found in bar bands, coffee houses, and high school orchestras. In other words, look everywhere.

(The question most frequently asked by those beginning a new worship experience is this: “Where can I find good musicians?” There is no reliable and succinct answer to that question. The “right” musicians are normally found over time, at the serendipitous intersection of prayerful searching, word of mouth, and creative networking with area musicians.)

2. Musicians committed to excellence tend to draw other musicians with a similar commitment.

(When a quality musician is in place, he/she may become the instrument through which the Spirit attracts other musicians.)

3. The best ministry of music will build an artistic bridge between that which is considered “traditional” and that which is considered “contemporary.”

(Too often, a church’s music ministry operates with an “either/or” mentality—the music, in other words, must be EITHER traditional OR contemporary. Newer worship experiences must find ways to resist such a restrictive mentality, so that ancient hymns might find new expression, and so that the best of the contemporary praise choruses might be given a rich liturgical environment in which to resonate.)

4. The best ministry of music will maintain both high energy and artistic elegance.

(If we read the Psalms holistically, we are compelled to come to the conclusion that worship music must have about it BOTH the energy of loud, clashing cymbals and the artistic elegance of the lyre. God, after all, deserves both moods—energetic praise and elegant adoration.)

5. The best ministry of music will lead the congregation into both vibrant celebration and quiet attentiveness.

(God deserves loud songs of praise. But God also deserves the kind of stillness in which God’s presence might be discerned and encountered.)

6. The best ministry of music will place the focus, not upon the personality of the musicians, but upon the majesty and mystery of God.

(It is important that the musicians, and all leaders of worship, see themselves as servants of the Word and not stars of the show. This distinction helps one to understand the difference between music as an offering and music as a performance.)

7. Lyrics are important and deserve careful attention.

(Not all songs that mention “God” are appropriate for every worship setting. It is best when musicians place before the worshiping congregation lyrics that have about them both theological and artistic integrity.)

8. Music tends to inspire passionate opinions. Prepare for the various reactions to newer musical expressions, and be patient.

(No portion of worship generates more heated debate than the ministry of music. Helping a congregation through these issues is hard but important work.)

9. Music touches places in the soul that the spoken word cannot reach.

(The journey toward excellence in music ministry, then, is well worth the struggle.)

10. Music can become either a liturgical enhancement or a liturgical distraction.

(We will not always land on the right side of this distinction. But we must always be aware of it.)

I officiated at my 196th wedding on Saturday. But who’s counting?

Saturday’s wedding was a joyful event for me because it afforded to me the opportunity to stand with two of my dear friends who also happen to be people of deep and authentic faith. It was not so much a ceremony as it was a worship service, a rich expression of praise in which the bride and groom understood themselves to be secondary to the glorification of Jesus Christ. I was thrilled, humbled, and honored to be a participant in such a blessed event. It was a wedding that I will never forget.

Because the experience was so good, however, it served to highlight some of my other wedding experiences that were less joyful for me. What was the difference? What makes some wedding experiences more meaningfully memorable than others for the officiating pastor?

I have come to believe that part of what sometimes prevents me from feeling fully invested in a wedding service is the collection of contemporary wedding trends, some of which I see as enormous stumbling blocks in the way of creating a Christ-centered worship experience. Three of the wedding trends to which I am making reference are these:

-THE CULTURAL INSISTENCE UPON SEEING THE WEDDING AS “THE BRIDE’S DAY”
When did this begin to happen? The danger in seeing the wedding as the bride’s day, of course, is that the bride’s (or groom’s) preferences can very easily become the governing mechanism by which the entire content of the service is determined. What happens, however, if the bride’s preference in music favors the romantic over the worshipful? What happens if the bride and groom decide that the existing liturgy is less than satisfactory and that they want to write their own vows to make them more personal? What happens if the bride and groom make the decision that Jesus’ name should not be mentioned throughout the service, since there will be some Jews and Muslims in attendance? My point is this: Allowing any individual bride or groom (or pastor, for that matter) to make his or her preferences the only governing mechanism in the planning of a wedding is a seductive and dangerous course of action. These days, I do my best to make clear to brides and grooms that the wedding is neither their day nor my day. Rather, a Christian wedding is the church’s day. We are merely being invited to participate.

-THE LAYERS OF CULTURAL EXPECTATION THAT WE CONTINUE TO PLACE UPON YOUNG BRIDES AND GROOMS
It was once the case in America, during the frontier days, that a wedding was all about the vows and the prayers surrounding them. Then, the family and friends of the bride and groom would hold a picnic or a house party. There would be celebration and laughter. There would be good food and intimate friendship. Weddings these days, however, are expensive cultural events. The reception hall is chosen before the church is even contacted. The money spent on wedding garb and limousines could provide a downpayment for a house. Guests are invited, not necessarily because of their friendship with the bride and groom, but because of the social and political weight of their presence. Brides and grooms are encouraged to make their wedding more elegant and more “unique” than the last wedding that they attended. Overbearing parents of brides and grooms micromanage the process in an effort to experience vicariously through their children the wedding that they themselves were never given an opportunity to enjoy. We certainly have done young brides and grooms a huge and expensive disservice by allowing these layers of cultural expectation to accumulate upon the wedding celebration. Each of these layers, I think, has the potential to make it even more difficult to reach the spirit of worship that is at the heart of Christian marriage.

-THE EVER-EXPANDING ROLE OF WEDDING PHOTOGRAPHERS AND VIDEOGRAPHERS
It is not at all my intention to disparage those good people who make a living in this industry. What I have come to find, however, is that, when weddings are treated more as ceremonies to be photographed than worship services to be experienced, the role of the photographer/videographer becomes distorted. These days, brides and grooms are willing to shell out thousands upon thousands of dollars in an effort to capture every minute of their wedding day. The problem, however, is that we can become so obsessed with CAPTURING every minute that we diminish our capacity to EXPERIENCE every minute. Photographers and videographers have their place. My concern is that their presence at a wedding, if not carefully restricted, can tamper with the spirit of reverence that a worship service demands.

Saturday’s wedding was a great experience for me. It made me believe that an experience of worship and a sense of the holy are still to be found in wedding celebrations. There is still the potential for a glorification of the covenant-making presence of God, even if we have to search for it beneath several layers of nuptial extravagance. Endeavoring to create a meaningful and worshipful wedding, in other words, is still worth the effort.