Musings from a Worship Newcomer

During my sabbatical I've had the chance to worship with several congregations other than our own. I'll be with five more before the leave is over. I'm enjoying them all, but I'm remembering just how hard it is to go to a worship service as a complete stranger. And in the last several weeks I've attended churches that do pretty well in the ministry of hospitality.

It's hell-on-wheels for a first time visitor; particularly people like me who lean introverted. The distance from your car to a safe seat might as well be the distance between New York and Los Angeles. It's an eternity going from the parking lot to the place of worship. On the one hand, as a newcomer, I hope that someone will welcome me and help me find my way to the right location. I pray to experience more than that lingering once-over you get from some church folks, just before the lean toward the person next to them (while still looking at you) as ask, "Who is that?!?" It's nice to get some level of attention or recognition. At the same time I cringe at being pounced on like the only person walking on to a used car lot. It's possible to be over-attentive to a new person, creating discomfort with choreographed hospitality.

Two things I realize as a guest in worship...First, many church folks put all their eggs in the wrong baskets in their hopes of attracting new people. We assume that the right music, the right worship style, the right preacher, the right technology, and the right innovation will seal the deal with a newcomer. In fact, the deal is already sealed before worship begins. It happens between the parking lot and the seats. Second, hospitality isn't about technique. It's about atmosphere. Either a church pulsates the desire to welcome people into the arms of a loving and saving God or it does not. Newcomers can smell an atmosphere, one way or another. In fact, they are the best gauge as to whether or not hospitality is present and/or genuine.

I'll see you around the next bend in the river.

The Michael Jackson Tragedy

If I was an invested student of pop culture I'd be watching the coverage of Michael Jackson's funeral today. Instead, in my continuing laziness of the last three weeks, I've finally rented "Spiderman 3." How's that for shallow?!?

It's not that I'm an antagonist of the alleged King of Pop. It's true that I'm an aging hard-rocker. I came of age as a music fan with the Jimmy Hendrix Experience, Eric Clapton, Iron Butterfly, and Grand Funk Railroad, and I've disdained the sweetsy-pop stuff since the days of the Jackson 5. Thus, I've never been a fan. Still, I recognize that Michael Jackson broke open the genre of music video, and created a style that's been emulated for over three decades. I appreciate the millions of dollars he has put into charities. And, though I have my concerns about some elements of his character, I cannot cast stones of judgement, due to my own faith values.

Mostly, I just find it all terribly sad. In Michael Jackson I see a person constantly trying to remold himself. And I never saw this remolding as a positive thing. Rather, it seemed to be some kind of desperation fueled by self-loathing and/or craving for approval. With all his obvious gifts and talents, Michael Jackson never seemed settled with himself. We all joked about the alleged plastic surgeries and his freakish appearance changes. Behind it all was some kind of inner tragedy. And we've turned this tragic figure into an icon. (Supposedly, seats for Michael Jackson's funeral today were sold on Ebay for as high as $10,000.) In death, the King of Pop is at god-status for many people who probably struggle with their own desperation to rebuild themselves into something other than who they are.

It's a stark contrast with the One who shows us that we cannot change who and what we are, but that the God who made us and loves us longs for us and seeks us as if each of us was the King of Pop times infinity! And it is this God who will make us new creatures - the creatures we were created in love to be all along. I'll see you around the next bend in the river.