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Beyond the Noise: Worship and Justice
By Jeremy | September 2, 2008
- I just submitted two chapters for a forthcoming multi-author book project on justice (more to come), but had to omit the following story from the chapter on worship and justice (co-authored by Pastor Louis Carlo) for lack of space. Enjoy.
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We must move beyond figuring out what song will we sing and move instead to where we ask, “What song will we live?” We are God’s workmanship; His poema, a masterpiece; the song of the redeemed made flesh.
A popular worship song reflects:
“When the music fades and all is stripped away / and I simply come / longing just to bring something that’s of worth / … I’ll bring you more than a song. / For a song in itself is not what you have required / … Though I’m weak and poor, all I have is yours.”
The power of the worship song is to compel a lifestyle of worship as sacrifice. But when the music fades, will our noisy, ego-driven Christian music permit authentic worship?
In one of the most courageous acts of song-led worship I’ve ever experienced, my co-author and music minister Pastor Louis Carlo forced me to confront this very question.
Five years ago after a youth retreat talent show, late on a Saturday night at a farmhouse in upstate New York, Pastor Lou stopped singing the scheduled songs; silenced the instruments; and instructed a room full of 50 inner city teens to quietly listen for the still, small voice of the Holy Spirit. Then he stood up from behind the keyboard, walked off the stage to the back of the room, and knelt face down to pray.
A genuine hush filled the room. The kind you expect at a graduate school library, not a high school youth meeting. For five or ten minutes, perhaps longer, not a single teenager stirred. Then someone sniffled. Then another. Muffled cries began to echo. The floodgates opened, and one by one guys and girls alike began to sob. Heart wrenching wails filled the room.
I was the youth pastor in charge but felt, frankly, way out of my league. Tearjerkers are far beyond my comfort zone. With few exceptions, no one’s ever accused me of emotionalism.
But following Louis’ lead, I knew worship demanded courage and maybe even my discomfort.
During a lull in the sobbing fifteen minutes or so later, I invited the youth to disclose what God had told them. (If prayer is meant to be a conversation with God, perhaps we should talk less and listen more.)
One girl jumped to her feet and nearly rushed the stage. With her body visibly shaking and tears still streaming down her cheeks, she shared about how she’d been sexually abused by a relative as a little girl. A second girl embraced her, and told a similar story. Then a twenty-something youth leader embraced them both, and said that her abuser had been her stepfather.
Then a guy came up, nearly buckled over in agony. He confessed that as a pre-teen he had done to another little girl what their abusers had done to them. He clutched me, and we embraced for what seemed like half an eternity.
Well into the early morning hours, vulnerable teens were still confessing sins, exposing wounds, and comforting friends that needed healing. To this day, I’ve never experienced anything quite like that night. The trigger was a courageous youth worshipper who dared defy conventions and shift our affection from ourselves to God and those around us.
When we stopped singing about being blessed, and instead focused on Almighty God and the neighbors he invited us to love, He actually spoke. This child of poverty brought shalom to that place, and with it favor that exchanged beauty for ashes, sight for blindness, and freedom from oppression.
For He whom our lives worship, loves justice.
Topics: abounding grace, generation xcel, justice, louis carlo, music, worship, writings, yw8 | 1 Comment »
September 12th, 2008 at 10:17 am
Great post Jeremy! I love hearing stories about how God DIDN’T use music! As silly as that might sound, it’s true. You wrote “The power of the worship song is to compel a lifestyle of worship as sacrifice. But when the music fades, will our noisy, ego-driven Christian music permit authentic worship?” Too often we as Christians forget that music is a tool to serve worship, and instead we see worship as a tool to serve music. Too many music leaders out there are using the “worship platform” to cultivate their music, rather than using music as a place to cultivate their worship. When we practice the latter, rather than the former, then when “the music fades”, we lose nothing in our ability to engage with almighty God.
Later, you wrote “But following Louis’ lead, I knew worship demanded courage and maybe even my discomfort.” Often times, we see that worship is the natural result of discomfort. Humans throughout history- even biblical history- worship God far more in discomfort and adversity than when things are going well. Somehow people seem to forget God when things go well. Sometimes discomfort, pain, hunger, embarrassment, humiliation, are the best tools to bring us back to God. They remind us of our shortcomings and inabilities to deal adequately with these situations and instead focus us on the all sufficiency of God, which is worship.
Lastly, you wrote “The trigger was a courageous youth worshipper who dared defy conventions and shift our affection from ourselves to God and those around us.” What caught me was the word “conventions”. I hate that worship has come to that word. Isn’t that a shame? I myself fall prey to conventions. Why is that? Because conventions are easier. They are established. Doing things the way they have always been done is easier logistically and does not make us feel uncomfortable. But worshipping God is anything but conventional! There are new things to praise him for and new ways in which to praise him every day. And if for some crazy reason you can’t think of anything- the sacrifice of the Christ and his grace to us is something we can never master. There is no limit to the praise that this act alone is worth.
Again, I really enjoyed the post, and of course, it got me thinking (and preaching!). Thanks for the resource Jeremy!