The Five Minute Sermon

I spoke at my school’s chapel gathering this past semester, so I thought I would share my brief homily with you. It is not easy to talk for only five minutes but I think I managed to fit in some relevant points.

In good rabbinical fashion I started with an object lesson: I walked onto the stage I grabbed a guitar went to the mic and led the congregation in a chorus of “How Great is Our God.” One problem: I can’t play guitar and I’m not a very good singer

Everywhere is Sacred

I imagine that some of you are probably asking yourselves right now, “What sort of imbecile would get on the platform and try to lead worship if he doesn’t know how to sing or play guitar?” Well, if you are asking “What sort of imbecile…” then obviously you don’t know me very well! But I would like you to bear with me for a few moments, keeping my wonderful display of musical proficiency in mind and maybe we can use that as a jumping off point for a few minutes of discussion.

When I was thinking about talking this morning I went and asked Andrew {For Scotteriology readers Andrew is a worship leader at Taylor chapel sessions} why he started to take guitar lessons. How many people think he responded: I started taking lessons because God told me to, and told me He was going to make me a worship leader? Anyone? No, the real reason that Andrew started taking guitar lessons is that he wanted to play Korn. He started taking guitar lessons because he wanted to play secular music of… dubious quality.

For me this raises a number of questions about why the worship led by Andrew earlier was effective or enjoyable and mine was, uh, not quite as good? Is it because Andrew is holier than me? Is it because he wants to worship God more than I do? Is he more saved? Does Jesus love him more than me? I hope nobody is thinking yes to that question right now. The reason Andrew is able to lead us in worship so effectively is really straightforward: he took guitar lessons and he practiced his guitar. Plain, simple, mundane; he simply practiced his guitar. He did scales and arpeggios and played Row Row Row Your Boat until he achieved the proficiency to able to lead us in worship and not be a distraction to everyone. Something ordinary, requiring discipline, we could say “secular” for lack of a better term—right now—just Andrew in a room practicing his guitar wanting to play Korn.

Now the reason I wanted to sort of deconstruct why Andrew is good at leading worship and I am not is because I think we can use that to maybe look at some of our conceptions of God and church. Most likely I’m not going to say anything you haven’t heard or thought of before, but maybe I can remind you of some things. I’m not going to say everything that can be said, or even needs to be said, but maybe a few items of consideration that can be profitable for us. It seems to me that much, if not most, of our understanding of worship is centered on the church building and singing. I’m probably not the first person you’ve heard say this and I won’t be the last: this conception is inadequate at best, and wrong at worst. You will hear people with this sort of conception say things like “I just need to go to church and sit in the presence of God” and they really like to sing songs like “I’m Here to Meet with You Come and Meet with Me” and start their prayers with supplications such as “Father we just invite you into this place today.” And I’ve always wondered if these people consider the unspoken element to these sorts of words. Think about it: either God’s not where they are at so they have to go to his house—the church or the chapel—and then they can hang out with him for awhile. Or they are at the church and He’s not there so they have to invite Him to come in.

When I hear this sort of language I usually imagine this strange scene in heaven: God’s sitting on His throne being worshiped He waves his hand silencing the “holy, holy, holies” turns and says to Gabriel, “Uh so, what have I got on the schedule today?” Gabriel looks down his list “Let’s see… looks like you’ve got an 11:30 worship time scheduled at Taylor.”

God responds “OK. Are they singing “How Great is Our God?”

“Yep.”

“Sweet, I like that one. And what do I have after that?”

Gabriel looks at the list for awhile, “Hmmm, looks like you can come right back, they don’t have you scheduled again until Thursday morning at 11:30 again.” Of course, no one would probably articulate it quite that way, but sometimes absurd examples can point out assumptions taken to their logical conclusion.

The oddest thing I have noticed with this ultra-transcendent understanding of God is how it gets worked out in a very immanent fashion. The place you meet God is at the church, and then only if you feel something. And when you leave the church structure, and don’t feel something God isn’t there. What this kind of perception leads to is a very strong compartmentalization in our lives. We have our church life, our school life, our family life, our work life, etc. and never shall the twain meet. Unfortunately, in my experience, what this breeds is fractured and disempowered Christians. I know Christians who have horrible ethics in the workplace with absolutely no problem in taking advantage of other people in very questionable ways because, “That’s my job.” Similar examples could be given from family and dating.

When you leave here you are not leaving the sacred for the secular but are going from sacred to sacred. Going to a classroom, a workplace, a home, a dorm, or whatever and saying that it is less than worship would be like going into a room with the music blaring and saying, “I can’t hear any music.” Unfortunately, in the end you would be correct; as you ignore the music eventually it becomes quieter and quieter until it is silent. But I want to remind you that just because you can’t hear the music it doesn’t mean that it isn’t playing.

My hope for you this morning is that you would at least consider the possibility that God doesn’t live in our chapel, or at your church, and that you can experience Him directly in significant ways in all the different aspects of your life, and that possibly God is working on you, and with you, in ways that you could never imagine. I believe that God is still in the business of tapping people on the shoulder today and saying to them, “I’ve got a job for you, and I know you’re just the right person for the job, because I’ve been working on you.” And in much the same way as Andrew sat around practicing his guitar and now he gets to lead us in worship maybe some of the practicing you are doing around here is more valuable than you think. Maybe our classrooms are more sacred than we think. Maybe God is preparing you for some work in the future that right now might be unbelievable…but if you keep practicing you might just get that tap on the shoulder and find yourself prepared.

Because for me at the end of this, the question is not: is one form of worship better, or more valid, or more direct than another form of worship. That’s the wrong question, and you can never get the right answer to the wrong question. It’s kind of like “What’s the square root of blue?” It’s built on false assumptions.

I used the analogy of music playing in a room earlier which leads to what I think is the real question:

The music is playing everywhere. Do you have the ears to hear it?