I recently finished the book, Renovation of the Church: What Happens When A Seeker Church Discovers Spiritual Formation, by Carlson and Lueken.  It is a part biographical, part confessional story about a church that moved from being "seeker driven" to become more focused on spiritual formation.  They went from a megachurch to a much smaller one. But they found that they gained quality over quantity.  As a matter of fact, I could resonate well with their staff's feelings of having to sing and dance, so to speak, in order to please the crowd and keep them coming.  In short, they went from a consumer church to more of a contributor church.  They have the scars to prove it as well.  Music style may not have changed as much as the tone of the church overall.  

In my informal conversations with pastors of traditional churches, I have discovered that we all struggle with "performance anxiety" as well.  At the end of the day, we manage to offend and please almost all individuals in the worshipping crowd.  Then again, who ARE we there to please?

I maintain that it is the spirit of the worship, not necessarily the type of songs we sing.  I have felt God's presence deeply while singing "A Mighty Fortress," as well as I felt I was at a rock concert performance while the band cranked out the latest worship tune as heard on "YOUR FAVORITE CHRISTIAN MUSIC STATION!."  Likewise, in a more "worshipful" service, I have felt anything but.  Then again, with a hard rock'n band, I truly felt God's nearness.

My eldest son, going from a megachurch in Dallas with all its bells and whistles to a coffeehouse with a guitarist seated on a stool, said he felt closer to God in the latter setting.

But the order of worship is not up for a democratic decision, just as the sermon topic isn't.  However, a sense of what people will like is an ever nagging presence.  Some us, even in ministry, still struggle with the desire to please our fellow humans.

In closing, I say as I have said for several years:  The pendulum would one day swing. It is now swinging.  The move will be back to a more liturgical form of worship.  It is already happening in the more avant garde churches, particularly in urban areas and on the left coast.  What type of worship will characterize the next generation?

God only knows.

One Of My Favorite Quotes

Years ago, I discovered these words by Theodore Roosevelt. For some time, I had them displayed prominently under the glass on my desktop where I could see it daily.

For some reason, I enjoy reading them aloud with a voice that is my imitation of Winston Churchill. (Imagine him saying these words in the tone he used to inspire the British people during World War II saying among other things: "We shall never, never, never give up!"

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

Sounds to me like Teddy had his own share of critics. But unlike so many who wither under criticism, he refused to knuckle under.

Cold and timid souls they are who are content to carp and criticize yet never even enter the arena. Things do look quite differently from the field than they do in the stands. Often one has only a split second to make a decision while the armchair quarterback can pontificate almost endlessly.

Am I immune to criticism? Of course not. Whether it is valid or not, I have many times spent restless nights replaying a critic's comments in my head.

Just the other day, I received a comment from a church guest on a response form saying that my sermon had no practical application to everyday life. In fact, I had specifically added ways there the biblical principal could be applied to work, school, etc.

So what happened? "What we have here is a failure to communicate." Whether the person wasn't getting it, or I wasn't sending it, no matter. I pledged to do better to communicate application in my sermons.

And I choose to remain in the arena.