Cross-cultural Worship

So, it's been forever since I wrote anything and the three people (my family) who read this before have finally stopped, so I'm down to merely any random person that happens to stumble across my blog as they, in a bored stupor, continue to push the "next blog" link at the top of the page. I really am trying to better at this blog thing, but I've never kept a journal for more than two weeks, so actually disciplining myself to sit down and write like this is difficult.
Last night I had one very cool experience. The pastor I'm working with, Pastor Harm, home schools his kids through a charter school in the area. The charter school had invited a group of Ugandan Christians to do a program from the kids a couple weeks ago and Pastor's wife, Robin, fell in love with them. She invited them (and half the church) to their house last night for a time of fellowship. It was super cool!
I loved talking with each of the members of the group. They were all Christians and had individual lives back in Uganda (just south of Sudan and west of Lake Victoria in Africa): one getting read to attend Bible college, most of them married, one a pastor. In thanks for supper they sang several songs for us as group. They sang in their language, so we really didn't understand any of it, but they translated a bit of the songs for us. They were worshiping God! It was so great to see them, not just singing because that's what they do, but to see them actually worshiping and praising the God who saved them. It was a real blessing to see them happy and excited about what God had done for them.
The Pastor of the group told us why they were in America. They were hoping to raise $10,000 for an orphanage in Uganda. The pastor was saved through the ministry of American missionaries and lamented the lack of them in Africa today. What a challenge! To here a man who has given his whole life to the Lord, and reaching his people with the gospel, to plead for help from us. What a privilege we have to share in the ministry of the gospel to these people! And what a rebuke to hear from their mouths that we have failed them. It was a great time to spend worshiping and fellowshipping with people from a different culture, but of the same family.

Blood-stained Worship

Have you ever read through the Bible in a year?  This is my third or fourth time and there is something that intrigues me every time I do it.  It's as if God wanted to test those who attempt the plan.  Think about it.  As you're reading, about mid-February, you hit the middle of Exodus.  Up to this point, it's been amazing!  God's hitting Pharaoh with plagues, turning water into blood, killing the first born, dividing the Red Sea, giving water from rocks, sweetening water with trees--some pretty awesome stuff.  Then when Israel gets to Mt. Sinai, suddenly God starts telling Moses all about this tent He wants built.  And the next six or seven chapters are about this tent--sockets needed, boards for the walls, curtain design, furniture for the tent.  Once God finishes all the details, Moses points out the guys who are supposed to build the tent and they get to it--crafting the sockets needed, boards for the walls, designing curtains, making the furniture.  It's pretty tedious.  Then we hit Leviticus.  And it's all about what the guys who work at the tent are going wear and do.  And that's where most people hop off the band wagon.  "I didn't sign up for an in depth study of Jewish culture!"

That's where I buckle down.  I love this stuff.  I'm kind of a culture nut; I study ancient cultures for fun.  I'm weird, I know.  But this is interesting to me.  And the more you study the workings of the Tabernacle (that's the name of the tent), the sacrificial system, and the priestly office, the more amazing it is.  Contrary to popular belief, this stuff is in the Bible for a reason!  Take the sacrificial system for example.

The first 5 chapters of Leviticus detail 5 different sacrifices the Israelites were commanded to preform.  They are very similar with only minor variations that illustrate what each offering was accomplishing.  The burnt sacrifice was wholly consumed on the altar, illustrating a total devotion to God and hopes of divine blessing.  The grain offering (the only-non animal sacrifice) was offered also in hopes of divine favor.  Only part of the animal was burnt in the peace offering; the rest was consumed by the offerer in a meal that symbolized a restoration of fellowship with God.  A sin offering was offered when one sinned unknowingly and later realized the offense (also on the Day of Atonement for the entire nation), with differing costs to differing classes of people.  But each cost was a significant cost to that class.  And the guilt offering was offered for any sin against another person or against the Tabernacle or the priests.  These sacrifices covered a wide variety of life for the Israelites, and with 3 million some odd people, all needed to restore fellowship, find pardon for guilt, or demonstrate devotion to God the priests were probably busy killing animals all day long.

So what?  This doesn't apply right?  We don't worship that way any more.  Our houses of worship don't reek of blood and burnt flesh.  Thank goodness, too, right?  Who would want to go to church if all we did was kill animals.  What an inhumane, bloody, violent approach to worship.

The funny thing about that thought is pointed out for us in Hebrews 9.  The author points out that all the sacrifices were "shadows" of reality, that all the animals killed really didn't atone for sin, that another sacrifice needed to be made to truly make up for the deficiencies in the Levitical system.  And it was made, once for all, in the person of Christ.  We are allowed to worship a holy God because of Christ's death on the cross.  A death that was far more inhumane, far more bloody, far more violent than any animal endured in the Old Testament.  Our worship reeks of the blood of Christ.

Which makes me stop and ponder.  When an Israelite went to worship, what was going through his mind?  As he carried his animal sacrifice through the camp, maybe he though, "I just did this yesterday.  I sacrificed my best lamb last week and now this is the best I have.  This worship sure costs a lot."  I doubt there was much frivolity as Israelites stood in line, waiting for a blood splattered priest to make the needed sacrifice.

How much more serious is it when we approach God, holding our only hope of true fellowship, the cross of Christ?  

How much more sobering is it when we approach God, offering our only chance at total forgiveness, the blood of Jesus?

When I consider the immensity of my sacrifice, the cost of my fellowship, it brings a seriousness to my Christian walk.  The inhumanity of Christ's death for me is sobering.  It cost a lot to free me from guilt, to restore my fellowship, to show devotion to God.  I need to keep the bloody horror of the cross ever before me.  It will keep me serious and focused for my walk in Christ.

Search Me

The church I'm interning with needs a music pastor.  And though I didn't study music in college (other than three fun semesters of band), I've been elected to temporarily fill the spot.  This past Sunday was my first time leading congregational songs in a meeting of more that thirty people.  I'll admit I was nervous.  But I reminded myself constantly that my own music pastor, not matter how polished and poised he is now, had to endure a first service sometime. Afterwards, a couple members of the congregation told me their woes as a first time song leader.  Every story was an encouragement to me.

There's something encouraging about knowing someone else understands the struggles you're facing.  Especially when that someone has the power to help you in your struggle.  Like the men who had experience in rookie song leading, God is there for us in temptations.

In Psalm 139, David acknowledges that God has a complete understanding of the human condition.  God created us and made us in His image (vv. 13-17).  And after we fell, He spent just over 30 years living as a human in a fallen world.  "He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust" (Ps. 103:14).  He "was in all points tempted as we are" (Heb. 4:15).  God has better understanding of our wicked hearts than we do.

But that doesn't stop me from sinning.  I fall consistently, many times in a day, to things I do again and again and again.  My most frequent prayer is, "God, it's me.  I did it again."  And sometimes the temptations come so strong, so forceful, I feel I need to physically fight it--punch it, shove it, anything to get it away.  When that happens, I need to remind myself of this truth more than ever.  Why? Because if God knows the full extent of the temptation I'm experiencing, He knows the exact measure of grace I need at that time.

That's the true power of Christ!  He broke the power sin had in my life.  The power I need to live a holy life comes from this truth that God knows my heart.  Because He knows your heart, he "will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able" (1 Cor. 10:13).

So many times I've tried to face the temptation myself: I need this certain amount of Scripture memorized, this certain amount of friends on board, this certain amount of Biblical teaching.  Those things are good and helpful, but what I need is a simple cry to person who's run this race before, who finished it with perfection, who provides the grace sufficient for my needs: "Search me, O God, and know my heart...and lead me in the way everlasting" (Ps. 139:23-24).

SkiFest and Tweakage

Those aren't just badly spelled and made up words.  They are the two things that took up my whirlwind weekend home.  I'm interning in a church just west of Sacramento, CA, but I work the summers at a camp my church owns in Golden, CO.  So when the camp director asked if I'd help out at a ski camp involving several youth groups in the Front Range area, I told him if he could get me out of a week of interning, I was there.  He did it.

I flew home on Saturday, Feb. 15.  I worked SkiFest 2008 on Sunday and Monday.  Then left Monday for a camp gathering in Ringgold, LA known as Tweakage.  We got to the camp at 2:30 Tuesday morning, attended several sessions that day and left Wednesday morning.  That was the night I was supposed to be back in Sacramento.  We missed our flight.  So I got back on Thursday after noon around 1 PM, having had just under 20 hours of sleep in 4 nights.

But the frenzy of the trip wasn't a problem.  It was fantastic.  The whole weekend was like drinking out of a firehose.  Just too much to take in, too much to even digest.  But I'll try to distill some of the things God taught me.

1) God's work is done by a lot of people.  Pulling off SkiFest was a first for our camp.  It was like a whole week of activity rolled into one evening.  I ran games, the director, Jason made announcements and an evangelist, Ken Sparks, spoke.  Those were the people the teens saw.  But there were way more people who made he whole thing tick.  Aaron the sound guy, Bethany the registration lady, Hannah and Byron the medical people, Brandi the kitchen lady, Carter the maintenance guy, Harry the dishwasher and a host of other volunteers who cleaned, shoveled, washed, cooked, diced, pushed and swept so that around 200 teens could hear the gospel.  Thank God for a body.  It's too much for one.

2) I can learn from others.  That's what Tweakage is all about.  "What does your camp do?  How do you handle this?  What was your best game last summer?" The name comes from stealing someone's ideas and "tweaking" them for you camp's philosophy and context.  Even people who I don't fully agree with can have valuable input.  I need to learn from them.

3) You're only sanctified as you are rested.  One of my teachers in college used to say that phrase all the time.  And the more I work, the more I see the truth of it.  It's easy to be upset at people's driving skills, obnoxious behavior, disagreements, and annoying habits when you get only a little sleep.  Which doesn't seem fair, since I've lost the sleep in the service of God.  I ought to be blest because of that, not cursed.  But it's the truth.  The tireder I am, the more I need to be on guard.

4) Drunk people need love too.  Seems random, huh?  As we boarded our flight from Dallas to Denver, a group of people were taking pictures before boarding.  You could here them probably in the next terminal.  They were drunk and had been for a while.  And surprise, they were sitting behind me and my friend, Byron.  So much for catching up on sleep on the flight home.  And as they laughed and joked and swore loudly behind me, I was convicted.  I was seeing the dramatic demonstration of those people's need of Christ.  Alcohol allows what's inside to come out.  And those people's wicked hearts were on display.  No annoyance of mine could change them; no smart comment by Byron could change them; only the blood of Christ could.  And I was angry at them for disturbing my sleep.  How's that for wrong priorities?

It was a good weekend.  I worked a lot, talked a lot, and didn't sleep a lot.  But I learned a lot.  By God's grace, what I learned will become what I am.  And we'll see about that.

The Purpose

I tend to be pretty lazy.  So when the going gets tough, I bow out.  The only thing that keeps me working at a difficult task is an understanding of the reason for it.  When there are heavy boxes that need to be moved, the first thing that pops into my head is, "Why can't they stay there?" If it works, let's not bother it.

When is comes to the tough things in life, I want a reason to keep at it.  And what's tougher than being like Christ?  Look at the standard.  My life is supposed to be the life of a perfect deity. Each person I encounter ought to be seen through God's eyes as deserving of love.  Each circumstance I face ought to be met with a calm confidence that God is in control.  Each decision I make ought to made in the light of God's perfect will.  That's a tall order for a fallen person.

So why should I do it?  Why should I respond to life's trials with joy and peace rather than lashing out at the source of discomfort? What is the point of changing from my old man to my new?  Is there a reason, or am I just doing it because I'm told to?  My lazy mind wants answers to these questions before I go through the work they require.

Surprisingly the answer is found in the Old Testament.  Actually the answer found throughout scripture, but Exodus provides one of the clearest statements of it.  God is the chief mover in Exodus.  He nudges Moses from his obscure, innocuous hiding place in the wilderness to a prominent, influential speaking platform before Pharaoh.  He hardens Pharaoh's heart in order to judge Egypt for their treatment of His people.  He opens the expanse of the Red Sea, dries the ground for the Israelite's passage, and crashes the waters home on top of the pursuing Egyptians.  He delivers His people from bondage and death.

Just after these events, Moses is visited by his father-in-law, Jethro.  When Jethro comes, Moses shares with him the dramatic story of Israel's deliverance.  Jethro doesn't praise Moses for his leadership ability, Aaron for his spokesmanship, or Israel for their faithfulness.  If anything, the stories Moses told demonstrated the woeful lack of those things.  Jethro recognizes the true reason all these events happened: "Now I know the Lord is greater than all the gods...He [is] above them all." God didn't do those things to put Moses or Aaron or the Israelites on the spot; He did it to put the focus on Him.

The deliverance of Israel has a parallel in our lives.  We were trapped in sin.  And God worked in mighty ways, offering us redemption and forgiveness, demonstrating his power of sin and death, saving us from Satan and ourselves.  He brought us out of our bondage and expects our lives to change in light of it for one reason: to focus the light on His amazing character.

It's not about how special or valuable I am.  I'm nothing.  I am broken.  I can't accomplish the purpose I was made for.  But that just it, don't you see?  Anybody can make a violin sound nice.  But it takes a master to take a violin from the junk heap--broken strings and all--and make it sound like a Stradivarius.  And the broken violin doesn't get the glory; the master playing does.  So let God play your broken life--so others can see His mastery.