Tears Vs. Texts

This past Sunday I experienced a strange phenomenon in church.   I must admit up front that I was already pretty emotional when I walked into the worship center.  You see, this past Sunday I told many of my friends that I was leaving our church to take a new position as Associate Pastor at a small, nearby, struggling church.  For some people, this Sunday was the last time I would be worshiping with them.  To add to that emotion, as I walked into the worship center, I was made aware that one of my students at The LoveLady Center had been sent back to jail.  It was news that tore me apart on the inside.  It was really no wonder, then that as we began to worship, and as we began to sing of the grace and holiness of God, that tears began streaming down my face.

OK.  I need to be honest.  I am a guy that – at least every now and then – cries.  Not always, mind you, but under certain situations.  For example, I ALWAYS tear up during the airplane crash scene of The Incredibles.  Don’t judge me.  I can empathize with Mr. Incredible losing his family.  It is a very emotional scene!  It makes my wife laugh.  But despite the ridiculous times that it happens, I do cry every now and again during worship.  Not every time, and usually not at church.  Usually I cry when I am worshipping alone and I am overwhelmed by my own sinfulness and the magnitude of what my savior did for me on the cross.  Maybe it was all the other stuff going on, but this past Sunday it was just simple worship that sent me over the edge.

To understand what happened next, you have to understand that I truly believe that worship – both personal and corporate – is still a very intimate act.  While worshipping together, I typically find that I am singing alone to God.  While part of a larger body that is praising in unison, I find that there is no one around but me and God.  That is where I was Sunday, with tears rolling down my face.   I don’t know what happened, but right in the midst of this incredibly wonderful time of worship, something broke my concentration.  For a short moment, instead of being lost in the worship of my savior, I was just a guy in a big room full of people. 

It was at that moment that I began to notice those people.  Some of those people were just like I had been – completely lost in their worship to the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.  Most of the people were at a place not quite as remote.  They were clearly worshipping – well, they were at least singing with the rest of the crowd – but I cannot say that they were lost in their worship.  Maybe it was real and maybe it was ritual, but that is not for me to judge.  It was not this group that bothered me.

As I looked around, I saw another category of people that I will not even begin to classify as worshippers.  There was a lady reading her bulletin.  Really?  Oh look, another man doing the same.  Have I done that before – that is, read the bulletin when I should be worshipping?  Probably.  I continue to look around - yes, I know I should have gone straight back to worship, but I was now fully distracted.  As I looked around, I saw people texting!  TEXTING.  Wait a minute.  Two seconds ago, I was lost in worship to the point of tears and these people are texting?  Were they in the same worship center as I was?   

I had to ask the question: How could it be that one person is so lost in worship that he is crying while another is texting?  The easy answer is to point the finger at them and make accusations about their spiritual wellbeing.  That may be part of the answer, but the real answer of course is personal preparedness and participation.  Worship is a participatory activity and it requires the worshipper to prepare himself or herself to enter into the presence of the living God.  Then the worshipper must choose to actively engage in that worship.  To fail at either of these points runs the risk that you will be texting while others have tears streaming down their faces.

Are there days that I walk into the worship center completely unprepared?  Absolutely.  On those days, I probably end up being just one among a host of singers.  I may be participating, but I am probably missing the blessing of being lost in worship. Don’t get me wrong, I almost always make an active choice to participate in worship.  Sometimes though I have a hard time focusing on God because I am not adequately prepared for worship.   Even then, like this Sunday, being prepared does not make you immune to distraction.   Likewise, are there days where I choose not to participate at all?  Well, I did just say almost always… that’s not my desire, but I am human… let’s just say that I would much rather have tears than have texts.