My Improvisational Life

I sang on Sunday – I don’t sing very often anymore, my schedule precludes the ability to practice as much as I should, but I love doing it, and I was excited at the opportunity.   I really love to worship when I let myself.  It should not be so difficult to let myself, but unfortunately it is easy for me to get enveloped in self-consciousness, particularly on a stage in front of a few hundred people.   Before the service I prayed for freedom (there it is again!) from the fear of what other people are thinking, and God answered in such a beautiful way – I was not self-conscious at all, at least during the service itself.   I did get a little squicky afterwards, not that I was embarrassed by anything I did in the service, but God is definitely pushing me into previously unexplored places, and that is bound to be uncomfortable.  I grew up in churches where even the occasional “Amen” was frowned on, raising hands was something the wackos did, and dancing was unheard of.  To do both on a platform in front of a congregation is to me both beautiful and highly counter-intuitive, like Indy walking onto the invisible bridge in The Last Crusade. 

I am also very aware of how my actions influence others.  It’s kind of a hard line to walk – when you are leading worship, your primary goal is to genuinely worship and hope others will follow, but at the same time you don’t want to be distracting to those you are attempting to lead.  It is always tempting to try and judge your own success in leading others to worship based on the externals; how many people sang, or clapped, or participated in any of the half-dozen signs we have come to associate with “successful” worship, but to make such a judgment is idolatry.  Worship happens only in the heart, and thus its true signs are visible only to He who sees the heart. 

Ideally, art as worship should be our goal, and we do a great disservice when we create an artificial divide between the two.  Long ago I had a conversation with someone who was criticizing church music, saying that she “did not come to church to be entertained”.  It makes me sad that she does not understand the distinctions between art and entertainment, or the delicate connections between creating art, participating in it and appreciating it, and adoring God.  This is not to say that all art will be worship, or all worship will be art, but when the two connect it creates a synergy that is, to my mind, the fullest expression of what it means to be a human in communion with God.