It’s seems like just yesterday I can see the scene unfolding… “Matthew… yoo hoo… time to get up…car’s leaving in ten minutes,� my mom would say with increasing frustration… for that would be the third or fourth wake up call.
I knew well she didn’t like walking into church late… But I can remember thinking, “it’s just music the first 20 minutes, who care’s if we are late?�
To my 8-year old mind, church was the last place I wanted to go… what a chore? What a bore? Anything but church, right? And then my 8-year old pity party that I was throwing in bed would abruptly come to an end with daddy’s voice, in a tone that leaves little room for question… “Matthew, time to go!�
In under two minutes I’d be out of my bed, hair wet from dipping my head under the sink, Sunday clothes put on, nothing buttoned (the tie I’d do in the car), and stomach feeling sick from having scarfed down a toasted stroodle or eggo waffle (both of which presently make my mouth water). Not to mention, in all the commotion, somehow my brothers and I would always end up in a fight of some sort… as we run out to my parents, who’s been sitting in the car honking, tempting us that they would leave… and there we are… one frustrated family, heading to church. I was going.. kicking and screaming… but I was going. Haha…
I thought those days were over… but I have seemed to have stepped right back into them some twenty years later. I surely didn’t think I’d ever say this… nor would I have remotely expected it at the beginning of this race…
Church is the hardest, most stressful time in the world!! Everything is sooo foreign!! I grates on me with a force hard to put into words. I was doing okay until Africa… even then I could make my way through the services, but I could feel a frustration growing within me…
If people complain in America about how LOUD church is… they haven’t heard anything! Tell them to go to Africa… and I thought Africa could NEVER be topped… until, that is, I came to India!! Oh my goodness… make sure to bring the most elite form of ear plugs possible. It is the most frustrating thing in the world… to sit through an hour or so of prayer and worship that is completely non-intelligible… music that can hardly be classified as music… surely our western tones and rhythms are more glorifying to God than theirs…
Honestly I ran out of church the other day, my blood boiling, screaming, “That is NOT worship… how could it be?� Then I found myself, haha, the other night, there was a church service going on nearby, and myself, I was trying to enjoy some time alone reading… and the service kicks in… I feel my blood pressure rising… then, guess what I did… I started praying against them! “In the Name of Jesus, be quiet!!�
Yeah, as far as loud goes… you haven’t heard anything till India. You know what is church culture here..? To put loud speakers on the outside of your church, crank the volume to the max, and broadcast everything… starting about an hour before service, music begins to play on these speakers… it’s to tell people to come to church… I think to myself, “Calling ALL of India!�
The churches themselves, are just small one room buildings, and that’s where we all sit… the loudness is deafening… inside, no instruments except a drum… the drum… no rhythm but a bang on every beat… “Bam.. Bam.. Bam.. Bam.. Bam..� And it doesn’t stop, I would fill this whole blog up with that repeated if I could… each Bam driving frustration deeper inside me. People yelling, praying and singing in the mic, our literal bodies shaking, our bibles that we have open (church has become reading time) are also shaking.
And after an hour and half or so, it’s time to introduce our team, where two of us will preach. Services lasting nearly 3 hours… not as long as Africa… but surely more intense. And the norm, two services a day, morning and evening… traveling to different churches in the area.
All that to say, my biggest struggle has been going to church… things are just so foreign… in language, in style, in everything! I have a whole new understanding of Paul saying in 1 Cor 14 that tongues are a sign to unbelievers, a sign of judgment, of being cut off. I literally feel cut off in these gatherings… but God is working in me.
Before I came on this race… I had “my� understanding the way Church was “supposed� to be. Sure, I recognized the fruit of different churches doing things differently, but for the most part, and this was unaware to myself… not only did I have my standard… but I held others in judgment that didn’t worship, that didn’t pray, that didn’t “do� church the way I did… because “my� way was better, was more acceptable to God. You know, like those food critics, that people pay to go eat food and write a review… that was me… with church. I’d enjoy going into any temple of God and criticizing all the tables that need turning over… maybe if I had time after all my judgments were made… or if the ministry met my standard… I’d worship.
I had my checklist… and it was not small… and how prideful I am in yet… from content of sermons… to form of prayer… to songs and lyrical content… to flow of service… doctrinal beliefs… and on and on… what garbage!!? I’m not downplaying doing all things in excellence according to the Word… I am downplaying the pride and self-righteousness that raises itself up as judge and pats itself on the back, however spiritual looking, and never begins to worship… for it can’t worship… all it sees is self. How many church services have I wanted to walk out on because all I was looking at, really, was my self?
Are we not many members, with the same Spirit… many nations, many languages, with the same Spirit… with many ways to worship, all flowing from the same Spirit?
So I am forced to look at the positive, no matter how uncomfortable… like my teammate Tim said (for we all feel this way), he said, as he was about to mock a woman in earnest prayer, “I heard God say to me, “These are the moans upon which I am building my church.� He is right. God is right. No matter the difference, God is here. God is working.
I might still have to wear earplugs, and everything won’t always go the way I want it… but it is not my job to judge… that sacred office is for God alone… my call is to love. To seek to understand people that are different… to join as best I can in worship that is different… to give myself and serve those that are different.
How I long to be in a “normal� church service again, worshiping the way I want… understanding everything that is said?… but until then… God has me in this season for a reason, may I not cut short what He is trying to accomplish in and through me.
May we all, when feeling that first bit of frustration, with church, a person, a job, whatever… instead of turning and running, may we open ourselves to God and ask, “Is there something you want to teach me here?� or better yet… “How can I be a blessing?�
