Sunday morning worship was exciting.
When I was growing up, I don't think I would have ever written that sentence out loud. It's not as if I didn't appreciate the congregation; they were completely amazing people, but there were times when Sunday mornings seemed tedious, like going to a necessary teeth cleaning at the dentist. I already knew what was going to happen: we would chant the liturgy, the pastor would give a twelve-and-a-half minute sermon which would go through the same pattern of every other sermon ending with Jesus miraculously being raised from the dead to give us new life... Alleluia. Someone old would read the scriptures. We would sing a few hymns played gustily by an organist who had been there as long as anyone could remember, her white shoes sitting beside the organ, stocking feet rushing around the foot pedals.
And then my parents would talk for what seemed hours, while my brother and sisters and I would moan noisily like zombies wanting to go home to eat.
That is not the definition of Sunday morning excitement.
I loved that congregation - still do - but something happened this last weekend that I'll treasure for quite a while. I think we can call it...
Seeing the future.
A lot has been said about the demise of Christianity in the West, and although Australia is one of the most secularized cultures in the world, I saw a glimpse of how God is moving us forward, out of the doldrums of strict traditionalism (but with theological steadiness) to a place where God meets us in a new way in worship.
On Sunday, the 10:30 service started in its normal procession; a crowd of people speaking before the service and an entire mass of humanity showing up fifteen minutes later after the announcements have gone by, but then I introduced our worship leaders for the day:
The de Wit family.
Wynand and Marilene and their four children: Wian, Divan, Miane and Anmare, had prepared to lead all parts of the service. I had met with them at their house twice to go through the service and they were ready, especially Wian and Divan who are about eight and six years old, and their sisters who are three and two. The de Wit's are originally from South Africa and speak Afrikaans fluently. As we visited their house, the two youngest girls would flit back and forth between Afrikaans and English. It was fascinating to listen to, like being on the other end of an intercontinental telephone conversation.
With great aplomb, Marilene and Wynand spoke the call to worship, the confession and blessing; the boys read the lessons - Divan reading from his children's Bible. Miane helped with the offering and it was a true blessing to the congregations for a three year old girl to lift the offering bowl up onto the altar, not as entertainment, but as a look into the disciples in our midst no matter their age. Her small legs walked next to me to the altar and with a great big toothy grin, she pushed the heavy bowl up onto the edge. Excitedly, she walked back down the steps to the congregation who was preparing for the Lord's Supper next.
The boys, Wian and Divan, were Communion attendants. Each of them held onto the brass tray containing the wafers which I, and another member then distributed.
Wian looked up to me between settings and through gapped teeth smiled at me and said, "Pastor Reid, I just have to let you know, I'm not that mad that my brother's plate is bigger than mine." I almost started laughing out loud.
But then, as Wian served me the wafer from his own eight year old hand, he said, "This is the body of Christ given for you Pastor Reid." He paused and added: "I've never been this proud in my whole life...
I'm never going to stop sharing my faith."
The congregation didn't hear these words, but they have been tattooed onto my heart. If only every young person in every congregation could feel valued enough by being engaged in all worship services to pronounce that their faith is an outflowing of their lives. If only we, as church leaders, could see the small disciples in our midst who are desperate and longing to share whatever gifts they have to practice the faith. Should we not be doing things like this every Sunday?
I have opened up the calendar for families to put their hands up on Sundays to lead worship - families of all flavours, one, two or three generations taking part in bringing Jesus to all of us. I'm already into September with volunteers.
What a vision for the future!
When I was growing up, I don't think I would have ever written that sentence out loud. It's not as if I didn't appreciate the congregation; they were completely amazing people, but there were times when Sunday mornings seemed tedious, like going to a necessary teeth cleaning at the dentist. I already knew what was going to happen: we would chant the liturgy, the pastor would give a twelve-and-a-half minute sermon which would go through the same pattern of every other sermon ending with Jesus miraculously being raised from the dead to give us new life... Alleluia. Someone old would read the scriptures. We would sing a few hymns played gustily by an organist who had been there as long as anyone could remember, her white shoes sitting beside the organ, stocking feet rushing around the foot pedals.
And then my parents would talk for what seemed hours, while my brother and sisters and I would moan noisily like zombies wanting to go home to eat.
That is not the definition of Sunday morning excitement.
I loved that congregation - still do - but something happened this last weekend that I'll treasure for quite a while. I think we can call it...
Seeing the future.
A lot has been said about the demise of Christianity in the West, and although Australia is one of the most secularized cultures in the world, I saw a glimpse of how God is moving us forward, out of the doldrums of strict traditionalism (but with theological steadiness) to a place where God meets us in a new way in worship.
On Sunday, the 10:30 service started in its normal procession; a crowd of people speaking before the service and an entire mass of humanity showing up fifteen minutes later after the announcements have gone by, but then I introduced our worship leaders for the day:
The de Wit family.
With great aplomb, Marilene and Wynand spoke the call to worship, the confession and blessing; the boys read the lessons - Divan reading from his children's Bible. Miane helped with the offering and it was a true blessing to the congregations for a three year old girl to lift the offering bowl up onto the altar, not as entertainment, but as a look into the disciples in our midst no matter their age. Her small legs walked next to me to the altar and with a great big toothy grin, she pushed the heavy bowl up onto the edge. Excitedly, she walked back down the steps to the congregation who was preparing for the Lord's Supper next.
The boys, Wian and Divan, were Communion attendants. Each of them held onto the brass tray containing the wafers which I, and another member then distributed.
Wian looked up to me between settings and through gapped teeth smiled at me and said, "Pastor Reid, I just have to let you know, I'm not that mad that my brother's plate is bigger than mine." I almost started laughing out loud.
But then, as Wian served me the wafer from his own eight year old hand, he said, "This is the body of Christ given for you Pastor Reid." He paused and added: "I've never been this proud in my whole life...
I'm never going to stop sharing my faith."
The congregation didn't hear these words, but they have been tattooed onto my heart. If only every young person in every congregation could feel valued enough by being engaged in all worship services to pronounce that their faith is an outflowing of their lives. If only we, as church leaders, could see the small disciples in our midst who are desperate and longing to share whatever gifts they have to practice the faith. Should we not be doing things like this every Sunday?
I have opened up the calendar for families to put their hands up on Sundays to lead worship - families of all flavours, one, two or three generations taking part in bringing Jesus to all of us. I'm already into September with volunteers.
What a vision for the future!
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