Anthem

Recently, I found myself engrossed in an episode of “That Metal Show,” a weekly talk show offering from the fine folks at VH1 Classic that focuses on one of my favorite musical genres: heavy metal and hard rock music.  One of the standard segments of the show is a discussion of the Top 5 of various categories.  Inevitably the debate gets good-naturedly heated as music can be a subjective topic and the three panelists argue over which song or which band truly belongs on their final list.  This particular episode asked the question “What are the top 5 anthems of all time?”  But this time the debate grew heated not about the particular songs, but rather how an “anthem” should be defined.  The host of the show, Eddie Trunk, grew increasingly more passionate about this and I found my own head-banging brain wrapped up in the argument.  I love it when people are intelligently passionate about the things they believe in and hold dear to their hearts.  I got to thinking about my own list and then the process took a strange turn as I began contemplating not only songs, but how my own life’s anthem would best be composed.

Over the past two months I’ve been visiting a variety of churches on a quest to determine what the local worship community has to offer me.  This has been an educational exercise as each one is evaluated in a variety of categories: friendliness, quality of the message, music, facility, lay participation, timing, elements of worship, openness to alternative elements, demographics, programming, and level of congregational enthusiasm among others.  In each case, the individual churches have all had something positive to offer while none have necessarily struck me as the complete package.  Like each of us I’m finding there is no perfect model of church.  But each of them shared a similar anthem in worship – praise and glorification of God as our creator and redeemer, and as a deity of love, peace, hope, joy, mercy, justice, compassion and forgiveness who will come again to follow through on His promises to repair this broken world we call home.  And, consequently, it’s a natural progression to establish a worship environment for those present to use that time to commune with God in such a way that certain principles are reinforced and openly and eagerly expressed.  In this way, He is properly honored and we are properly equipped to go out as messengers of His good news and stewards and servants to live out His gospel.  These are the best of intentions and are executed at various degrees of success from church to church, and from week to week.  Any gathering of believers that can honestly commit to this is victorious.

However, one church I visited recently was beyond disappointing.  It was the only one where I felt the absence of any true sense of worship.  And as a result, my emotions ran the gamut.  What started out as anticipation and excitement, quickly gave way to boredom and confusion.  As I looked around at the other worshippers I found similar expressions of disconnect and puzzlement.  As the service wore on from music to message, I hoped for improvement but found none.  I felt sadness and a touch of anger that this church had failed in every way to engage a crowd of hungry and thirsty seekers.  Knowing full well the effort it takes to coordinate a worship service, I was bitter that those in charge had allowed their time of worship to be decreased in every way that served God and that fed his faithful. Instead I found only self-indulgence.    Where was the good news?  Where was the opportunity to praise God?  And to what spiritual end were these people being directed?  The longer I stayed the more tense I became, the more labored my breathing became.  I realized that this was no longer a good use of my time.  My conscience was screaming at me and I promptly exited the building.

I pray today for forgiveness for being overly critical, emotional, judgmental and passionate.  And I pray for those people who are unaware, exposed to a false sense of worship and to unhealthy church doctrine.  But in the end, I suppose the experience was a surprising lesson.  A reminder to never forget what my life’s anthem should be.  Not about me.  Not about us.  But all about Him.  About His Son.  About the Cross.  About His teachings.  About His coming.  And about His unconditional love for each of us no matter how far we fall from His infinite grace. 

I pray I can find a church home again where I can feel Him calling me to be a part of something greater than all of us.  Open a new door for me to be Your servant. Let me be more like You, Jesus.  And let my anthem always be you, O, Lord!