When I was in junior high or high school, I memorized Gal 2:20 (at camp, to a song which I still remember no less):
"I have been crucified with Christ and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. And the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me, and gave Himself up for me."
And even though I memorized that verse 25 years ago I think I can honestly say that it's only in the last couple of months that I've really begun to understand it.
I had always read that verse as one of those "theological reality" pieces that describe the "essence" of who we are as followers of Jesus. We are the ones who have been identified with the death (and resurrection) of Jesus.
Cool- got it. Not by my works, as he tells the Galatians. But by Jesus' work. Got it.
But what if Paul isn't speaking (just) theologically? What if he's speaking experientially? What if this thought, written probably 20 years after he began, describes not just the reality of what happened to Paul when he started following Jesus- but what has happened every day of the last 20 years? And continues to happen. And what must happen... to me.
When I think of this as someone farther along in maturity than me describing not just the reality of justification, but the process of conversion, of maturity and growth, I begin to understand the every day struggle and war within myself.
And I begin to see what I need to do about it.
We've been having a long and good discussion on our forum about our worship. Some have expressed frustration at our lack of engagement and any outward indication that many of us are worshipping as opposed to mentally cataloguing our DVD collection. Others have said "Back off- I worship in my own way." Others have expressed a desire to be more engaged and acknowledged the reality that in a community, what we do or don't do actually impacts others, particularly when it comes to community disciplines like worship. All in all I'm glad to be a part of a community that can have such open conversations- where some can say "I wish we worshipped more emotively" and others can say "Please, no!"
Actually, I get that discomfort with worship in all its forms. I really do- and I'm not just saying that- I feel it too. But, I think the discomfort is a sign that in many ways, the worship we are doing as a community is having one of its intended effects on us as individuals.
Over the last few years my weight has gone up and down- between 175 or so on the high end and 139 on the low. So yeah- at one point, I lost close to 40 pounds. How?
A little diet I like to call "eat less and exercise."
I had tried many, many times to shed some pounds with varying degrees of success, but never really hit the sweet spot until I made one small mental adjustment.
I started to "enjoy" feeling hungry.
It wasn't that I liked the feeling. It was more- when I felt it, I knew I was making progress. When my body said "eat!" or "eat more" and I said "No" or "Not yet" I was rewarded with some discomfort. And it wasn't until I embraced that discomfort and learned to listen to it in a different way (not listening to it as a signal that I needed to eat, but as a signal I was pressing in the right direction) that I got where I wanted to be.
Like I say- I get that parts of worship are uncomfortable. Do I want to sit with you, pray with you, sing with you? No, I really don't.
And in a way, that's exactly why I do it.
I recognize that pain and discomfort is an odd thing to talk about this way. Most pain/discomfort is a signal to do a 180. But some is a signal to keep going. And part of growing up is learning the difference.
We sing less than probably 80% of the congregations out there- no 30-40 minute sets to start us off (though some EGers would love that), no extended periods of song after song after song. Mostly, we break up 3-5 songs throughout the morning. Generally our longest set is 15 minutes and 3 songs long. We do it this way because we want to signal: It's ALL worship. Not just this part at the beginning. And worship isn't the prelude to the main event (the sermon). It's all worship, and that's the main event.
But because we see singing talked about both descriptively and prescriptively in scripture, because it's difficult to find communal worship talked about in Scripture (whether descriptive or prescriptively) that doesn't involve music and singing... we sing.
It's one of the ways we try to remain in the historical stream of all those who came before us and one of the ways we try to worship God as HE wants to be worshipped.
I try constantly to remind myself- worship isn't about us. In fact, in so far as it's specifically about pulling our hearts off of ourselves and the things we have attached them to and attaching them to God, it makes sense to me that I would lean into some things I wouldn't choose otherwise.
In other words- often I find myself not worshiping by praying, listening to Scripture, singing because I want to... but precisely because I don't.
Not to get too preachy here (but I'm going to get too preachy here): Some day our knee will bow before Jesus in worship. At least for myself, I'd like it not to be the first time. And inasmuch as I'd like my stubborn knees to get used to bowing (and my stubborn heart, my stubborn mouth, etc to that worship) I think a little practice is in order.
To me, it's all a part of the process of me being crucified- doing the daily dying to myself Jesus told me I would need to do if I were to truly follow Him. Did I think that would involve only my money? Only my time? Did I think any part of me would escape?
When I choose to do that which I would not otherwise do for the sake of others, for the sake of Jesus, whether in sacrifice or in worship, I am being formed. Formed into someone that looks just that much more like Jesus.
Someday, my sincere hope is to be able to look back and truthfully say "I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live, but Christ in me" and have it describe not just a theological reality... but the day-to-day existence I have lived.
I just know it starts right now.
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