Monday, October 15, 2007

Hymnbooks

I can't sing to save my soul. I Katzenjammer at the top of my lungs driving to and from work, but I know my singing is terrible: I don't do it much where anyone can hear me. But as I read the New Testament, I see lots of places where singing is encouraged (or even commanded) and none suggest the quality of sound that's produced matters. So I consider my singing sacred, if not any good.

I have an objection to the music I see and hear in most churches these days. I've commented on it before, but to quickly re-iterate: I consider the whole "worship team" phenomenon a travesty, because it takes something Scripture contemplates as interactive and replaces it with a performance. But even in churches where the singing is largely interactive, I've noticed a trend away from actual hymns written for congregational singing and towards songs written to be performed. I'm not saying they're bad songs, just that the vast majority of people can't sing them. So making me try to follow some (possibly wonderful) song made famous by some professional singer or another doesn't really move me to worship: I don't hear a wonderful song, I hear many people (like me) slaughtering it.

But I didn't actually set out to regale you with my curmudgeonly views.

I remember several years ago a friend told me a professor of his in Bible School had encouraged his students to keep a hymnbook to use in their devotions. I had already stumbled across that through experience, but I find it's excellent advice. Singing is part of worship, and no less a part of individual worship.

So I have a few hymnbooks. Most (all?) of my hymnbooks are of a "brethren" persuasion, which ought not to surprise anyone. Here's the list of my hymnbooks I can remember off the top of my head:

  • Spiritual Songs: I have several of these: some in leather, the rest in hardcover. This is probably my favourite hymnbook: it's the 1978 hymnbook from the "reunification" of "grant", "kelly", "booth", "stuart", and "nhh brethren," to name a few. So it's basically a convergence of several versions of Little Flock, but with some jewels from people like CAC thrown in.

  • Little Flock: my copy is old and battered, but I still love it. It was a gift from my wife before we got married.

  • Believer's Hymn Book: this is what I grew up with---the classic "open brethren" hymnbook. My copy is leather-bound, and has music in it. Those two features cost me a pretty penny back in '92 or so. I sometimes wish I was in an assembly that uses BHB, just so I could use this book once in a while. I think I've taken it to fewer than two dozen meetings since I bought it.

  • Hymns of Worship and Remembrance: this is the black, hard-bound hymnbook so popular among "chapels." It was supposed to be an improvement on the Believer's Hymn Book, and it is in some ways. I had them engrave my name in the front cover when I bought it, just in case I ever take it to a meeting. I don't want it misappropriated.

  • Redemption Songs: old-school "chapel" gospel hymns. Good stuff.

  • Choice Hymns: gospel hymns. It's all right, but nothing brilliant.



So why do I have some many hymnbooks? Part of it's culture: in many "brethren" circles, you're expected to bring your own hymbook to the meetings. But part of it is devotional: singing quietly by myself is actually part of worship and devotion.

I frequently find myself remembering a line from a hymn I sang at one meeting or another: having a hymnbook there helps me remember exactly what it was we were singing. And perusing a hymnbook can be a good way to start out worshipping. A few idle moments can turn into a private little worship service.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Clarification

Well, there are already some things being said to me that indicate people haven't been listening. So let's run through this one more time.

I am not saying "brethren" teach what is wrong. I am saying they have developed a system that is collapsing under its own weight. I am in complete agreement with "exclusive brethren" as far as things like church order and inter-assembly relationships. That is, I think what they say about those topics is correct. If they would only do what they say, I would have no problems with them. If they really would allow the Holy Spirit to lead in the meetings, if they really did act in unity instead of descending into schism at every crisis, then I'd be onboard.

I'm not looking for "open reception." I completely buy the whole "guarded fellowship" idea. I'm not in any way suggesting we ought to allow strangers to break bread, nor am I advocating a freelance model of fellowship wherein people just sort of drift from assembly to assembly as they feel inclined that day. What I am saying is, our tests of fellowship are all wrong: we receive based solely on whether someone's a member of the group.

I'm not saying we ought to have clergy, elders, or anything of the sort. I'm saying we're hypocrites when we condemn others for their "pastor" then have a roster of men whose word cannot be questioned. I'm saying that when a man or group of men can effectively overturn an assembly decision, we have clergy in fact, if not in name.

I'm not saying we are wrong to have books, commentaries, and various publications. I am saying that we are in fact committing idolatry when we consider them to be the authority, rather than Scripture.

I'm not saying we ought to jettison things like church order, I'm not even saying things like headcoverings or "open ministry" are unimportant. I am saying that getting externals right is not an excuse to be backbiting, self-righteous, or complacent. The scripture warns very strongly about "having a form of godliness" and denying it's power.

My desire for "occasional fellowship" is not because I intend to visit a whole slew of other assemblies and break bread there. It's based on the conviction that there is no membership other than that in the Body of Christ, and (one-line disclaimers in assembly phone lists notwithstanding) what we practice is sectarian membership.

I'm not saying the assembly where I have been fellowshipping is in sin. I'm saying that I have been compromising on certain things in order to get others. For example, I've been compromising on the issue of reception in order to be in an assembly where the meetings are largely unscheduled so the the Holy Spirit can lead. But I've started to realize that I've made compromises on "intangibles" for "tangibles." That is, I've compromised on issues like pride and complacency so I can see a certain level of correct church order. I no longer feel free to make those compromises. I am not condemning anyone, but I no longer feel free to continue on this course.

That probably won't clear things up to any significant degree, but I felt it worthwhile to lay it all out like that.

Sunday, October 7, 2007

On a jet plane

It's been a while since I posted last. Has everyone stopped checking this blog?

Well, I've finally decided to withdraw from "brethren". If you've read my blog at all, you know why. You also know this hasn't been a hasty decision.

The final clincher was, the knowledge that the Scriptural admonishment to "flee from youthful lusts and pursue righteousness, faith, love and peace, with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart" (2 Timothy 2:22, NASB) is impossible when the test of fellowship is whether someone is a member of a certain group. In other words, so long as I am a member of a group that demands exclusive fellowship, I cannot possibly be said to be "pursu[ing]... with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart," because I am knowingly refusing to fellowship with any number of them.

I know, it's impossible to be in fellowship with all such Christians: there are any number of pure hearts in any number of places, and not all will be willing to pursue with me. But there is a tremendous moral difference between being in limbo fellowship-wise so that others don't even know I exist; and being in a place that knowingly and deliberately excludes godly Christians. If I can honestly say that I am willing to walk with any true believers who are genuinely seeking the Lord, then I'm at least not in violation of any Scripture I've seen.

I'm terrified. I have no idea what's next. I'm sure there will be some guilt-trips from well-meaning people; but the conversations I've had so far have been highly sympathetic. People seem to "get it" on some level at least. That's good enough for now.

It's possible we'll end up in a meeting in someone's home, but that's not something I'm planning at the moment. It's possible we'll end up in one of the "open" assemblies in town, but that doesn't seem too likely right at the moment either. I've visited both "open" assemblies I know about in town in the last six months: one was appalling, the other was more or less what I expected. I'm not saying I won't end up in one of them, but I'm certainly not rushing into them. In the end, going from "exclusive" to "open" just means trading one set of problems for another. They're no less a sect than "we" are, they're just more subtle in their approach to it.

And I've come too far in the Christian life thing to settle back into an evangelic church. I know they mean well, but I've done that, and I don't think I can do it again.

So please pray for us if you think about it. I am woefully inadequate to deal with this, but I honestly think it's something we had to do.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

If you can't afford the tip, you can't afford the meal

Today we witnessed the proverbial "after church" crowd at Monterrey, our favourite restaurant. There were three families clearly there after church, with a bunch of kids. There they were: kids were screaming, chasing each other around the restaurant, climbing in and out of empty booths while shouting at each other. In short, they were brats.

Christians are an embarrassment in public.

A non-Christian friend recently told me she used to work as a waitress in college. She said on Sundays there were always people there after church who would not leave a tip, because she shouldn't be working on Sunday. Of course, they always left gospel tracts...

It's embarrassing.

So here are a few ethics I would consider minimal if you're a Christian and go to a restaurant:

  1. If you can't afford to leave a tip, you can't afford to eat out. Go to McDonald's or get take-out from KFC. Or even get one of those rotisserie chickens from the grocery store. But don't cheat the waiter.

  2. If you actually pray visibly and audibly in a restaurant (and I encourage that), you better tip heavily. I would suggest you tip 20% as a baseline. Terrible service is worth 15% if the waiter sees you praying, hears you talking about church or the Bible, or sees you in a tie at Sunday lunch.

  3. If you leave a gospel tract, tip a few dollars more. I knew a guy once who tipped at least $20 if he left a tract: that's not a percentage, and we weren't eating big---that's being more concerned about the Lord's reputation than his own wallet.

  4. You had better make sure you treat the waiter with respect: say "thank you" when he brings you your drink; say "please" when you ask her for a refill. And don't---whatever you do---don't ever make sarcastic quips. It's entiely possible the waiter is useless. It's possible it's the worst restaurant experience anyone ever had. But if you are publicly claiming to be Christian, you need to uphold a much higher standard. Complain to a manager if you like; better yet, complain to the waiter himself, but do so politely and calmly.

  5. Keep your kids under control.



It's in the little things that our Christianity is evaluated.

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

Obedience

You know, I never really thought about this before; but the one Man who actually obeyed God at every turn and every moment was the One who knows Him. Not just knows about Him; but knows Him.

I've been thinking about that, because I think there is a key principle involved. That is, I am convinced we don't trust God because we don't know Him. And we have trouble obeying Him, because we have trouble trusting Him. But if we were really convinced of His goodness, that would certainly affect our obedience.

I know, there is sin in the flesh; there is that in us that rails against God. But there is still the principle that knowing God leads us to trust Him.

So Christ, the One who really knew God, is also the One who completely trusted Him.

I'm thinking about that today.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Lesson number one

I think the most important lesson I have learned so far in my life is, God is more interested in being good to me than in my being good for Him.

Now why did that take so long?

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Perspective

I was driving home from work yesterday, singing something from the Spiritual Songs:

How great Thy grace! No mind of man can grasp
The love told out in suffering on the tree;
Love that has gathered now within its clasp
Those once far off, but now brought home to Thee.


Today I got the words right, because I have a hymn-book I can look at. But I was pretty close yesterday. And I'm a terrible singer, so it's a good thing you weren't there to hear it.

And it got me thinking: perspective is important. It's far too easy to reduce Jesus Christ to a religious figure. I suppose He is that in some sense. But I notice a trend (and I was recently reminded of it on Facebook) where people refer to themselves as "Christ followers". I think the title is good, it replaces the much-abused "Christian" with something a little more meaningful in pseudo-Anglo-Saxon words.

But it's so little of the real story. Jesus came and said "follow Me". But He also said "Where I am going, you cannot come." Any number of people are willing to say "follow me". Some of them even lead, rather than throwing their "followers" into the front lines to absorb the cannon-fire (if I haven't mixed too many metaphors there). But I know of none who are willing to say "where I go, you cannot come."

And the wonder of it is, He said "where I go, you cannot come" only to elucidate "that where I am, there you may also be." There are depths no one else will ever experience: horror, pain, anguish that no one else can ever feel. And He went through that not because He was a martyr, but because He was determined not to go back to the Father without taking us along (eventually).

Like so many, I'm full of criticisms and complaints. I have an infinitely long list of criteria with everything I read or hear: I'm very stereotypically "brethren" that way. I frequently think more highly of myself than I ought.

But the perspective that the Scripture gives is, the Son of God came here to die for worthless sinners. That's the perspective that makes Christianity meaningful in any way at all.

I just need to be reminded of it a lot.