When the Music Fades

If you've been in church for any length of time, you've probably sung, or at least heard, the song "The Heart of Worship." It has a catchy, Churchy beat, for the 90's, but the lyrics always seem to strike a chord. It starts out saying, 

"When the music fades, and all is stripped away, and I simply come. Longing just to bring, something that's of worth, that will bless Your heart. I'll bring you more than a song, for a song in itself is not what You require. You search much deeper within, through the way things appear, You're looking into my heart." 

Originally, this song was written after a Pastor wanted to get back to the basics of worship, without the fancy lights, the intricate chord progressions, and the talented singers, all in a sense "leading" people into worship, only to have many still miss the point. For thirty days they sang without any equipment or instruments, simply to understand the basis of it all and to "come back to the heart of worship."

To be honest, I've felt stuck in a rut these last few months, and I'm not entirely sure how to get out of it. I realized I have been stuck in a "Christian Bubble" most of my life, and while it was burst several times, it always had a wall of protection in the midst of the chaos. I grew up in the Church, then went to a Christian pre-school, then a Christian school from k-8th grade. I went to a public high school, but I was still heavily involved in volunteering at Church and being a leader in my youth group. I moved away to go to college in a completely different city, but hung out with a Christian organization called InterVarsity. After a semester there, I moved back home, dealt with some junk and then joined Youth With a Mission. I did that for about two and a half years and then quit and moved to Texas where I went to seminary for three years. Got engaged thirty minutes after I graduated, got married six months later, and boom.

Here I am now.

But I'm not immersed in Christian culture.
I found a Church that I love, with awesome people who support and genuinely care for me as an individual with feelings and struggles, not just a "growing" congregation where they mistake numbers for members.
But I'm not on any ministry team. I don't serve anywhere.
I'm not apart of some non-profit group that has a mission focus to serve Jesus.
I don't openly preach to people at work, or to my non-religous friends.
I work at the front desk to a high rise condo in downtown Dallas where it's 70% gay men, 1 lesbian couple, and a bunch of random people who have their own beliefs and truths they follow.
There are some Christians, but they seem to keep to themselves and don't openly talk about it with the other residents.
Then there are some of the gays who openly claim to be Christians, and I will not judge them and cannot say one thing or another against or for them.


And frankly, I don't care.
I don't care what they believe or who they follow.
They're entitled to their own beliefs and they have the freedom to think what they want.
I know, that sounds horrible, and completely contrary to what I grew up thinking.
But I'm learning something in my "break" from the ministry world.

Not everyone wants to hear about Jesus, in fact, a lot of times they don't want to hear about Him because they already know who He is, and they don't want to hear about your version because they have heard of so many other types, shapes, colors and sizes, that they want to know the real deal but not many are willing to talk about that Jesus. So they settle for the one they know.

I had an hour long conversation last night with one of the residents, a young kid who goes to SMU. He goes and parties and drinks and has a blast with other people, all the while being underage but using his mature looks and charm to his advantage. Last night he admitted he has read the Bible through three times, grew up Christian and his family used to go to a Church in Carollton, and he knew verses, stories, and characters backwards and forwards--better than I do. He had compelling arguments on doctrine that at one point made me zone out simply to reaffirm my own beliefs. But at the end of our conversation, he admitted he knew he was wrong. He believes in God and Jesus, and He thinks Christianity is crucial for American society, it's a crux to our cultural beliefs, but he knows he is wrong. He alluded to Paul on the road to Damascus, and said, "Honestly, I think the only reason I'm not a 'Christian' is because I haven't had that Damascus encounter to prove what I think really is wrong."


That's when it clicked.


This kid has everything in the world he could ever want.
Great friends, a solid job, a phenomenal career in the making in real estate, insane intellect, money, power, charm, fancy cars and a condo in a high rise in downtown Dallas.
But he doesn't have faith.
And he doesn't have faith because he doesn't really know Jesus.
He knows of him, but he hasn't had the encounter to know Him.


I hate doctrine talk because I get so confused and sometimes frustrated by it. I'll listen to Rhys and our best friend Troy talk and I get so lost that I start to daydream, until they ask for my opinions and then I freak out and try to sound smart.

I have more money than most of my friends, thanks to this awesome job, and I have a pretty rockin' car -- even if the old girl is 11 years old and has over 100,000 miles. The 6 mach speakers still drop the bass well enough to drown out any sounds around me. I'm smart...enough. I'm married to an awesome guy, we have a great little apartment with a huge kitchen (bless God!). But I know Jesus. And I know Him pretty well.


I've run the guilt circle for several months now, feeling like I needed to do something or go somewhere to prove that I still love Jesus as much now as I did then.
See, I'm not in the Bubble anymore.
I don't have to go to worship/chapel every morning at 8AM.
I don't have classes that teach me about doctrine, or how to spread the Gospel, or that break out in "Holy Spirit moments".
I'm not serving in Church. At all. I got asked to help with the graphics and felt overwhelmed by it so I asked if I could pass.
I'm not apart of a small group, or any sort of a Bible Study.
I don't have to fast and pray for the summer outreach on Tuesday's and Thursday's.
I don't have to read the Bible for a grade.
I don't have to come up with new revelations for a teaching for the summer camp I'm about to lead.
I don't have to call Churches and try to enlist in their youth groups to come to our base for a missions rip.
I don't have to preach a sermon (with an iPad in one hand and a latte in the other).
I don't have to teach (in skinny jeans with a checkered open shirt, plain tank and colorful TOMS).
I don't have to take a cold, bucket shower. And only do my hair on Wednesday and my body on Friday because the whole team has to share what little bit we have.
I don't have to eat weird food because I don't want to appear rude to the hosts.
I don't have to do anything...


I can just be me.


I've never done drugs, but I imagine this must be how a withdrawal feels. I feel pressured sometimes to do something otherwise I am being a hypocrite. I'm not a Christian unless I am bringing people into the reality of Heaven, and serving my Church, and sharing the Love of God.
But I am, and I do.
I just am learning to do it in a different way.

One of the other things the kid said last night, which made me smile, was he thanked me for listening. He said he will try to talk to other Christians, or people in general, and they will shut down his ideologies. They will tell him he's wrong and say he's going to Hell unless he changes. They try to force religion down his throat, when all he wants is someone who is willing to hear him out. He knows he's wrong, but he still needs to sort through the mess of thoughts and revelations which form questions without answers.

After listening and briefly sharing my beliefs (which can be boiled down to I love Jesus, and as long as my relationship with him progresses me to becoming better tomorrow than I was yesterday, I must be doing okay), it clicked again. I don't need to do anything.


There's a song by Bethel Music, sung by Jenn Johnson, called "A Little Longer", and it messes me up every freaking time. I'm tearing up right now just thinking about it.


The lyrics say,

"What can I do for you, what can I bring to you. What kind of song would you like me to sing? 'Cause I'll dance a dance for you, pour out my love to you. What can I do for you beautiful King? 'Cause I can't thank you enough, no, I can't thank you enough."

For the longest time I've always thought I had to do something to show God how thankful I am and how much I loved Him. It wasn't out of legalism (all the time), it just was I felt like I had to do it. I didn't feel pressured or bullied, I just felt like He had done so much for me, I need to do more for Him. The problem with that is you get burnt out, that's why I'm taking a break. That's why I'm not doing much these days in the areas of ministry or missions fields or raising money for non-profits. It's just, after a while, if people don't get back to the basics and remember the true reason for why they do what they do, they will find themselves trying to act holy and get right with God when they are completely empty. Then they won't have much to bring which makes them feel worse, so they do more, they serve more, they seek more. But they don't take time away to understand they don't have to do anything.


The end of the song, "A Little Longer" is the most beautiful part, I think, because it is a pure, lovely response from God to His children. It says,

"I hear You say...
'You... don't have to do a thing
Just simply be with me and let those things go
'Cause they can wait another minute

Wait... this moment is too sweet
Would you please stay here with Me
And love on Me a little longer
I'd love to be with you a little longer
'Cause I'm in love with you'."

I'm slowly realizing that while it's great to serve God in epic ways like being the assistant director to a summer camp that teaches teenagers and young adults how to evangelize, or printing t-shirts and then selling them at the largest spirit filled camp in America to remind the campers what God did that week, or preaching the Gospel in India or on the Strip in Vegas, or going to a seminary where you spend every morning getting to worship the most beautiful person in the universe, none of that really matters. What matters is the heart behind it all. Your words and your actions don't always determine your heart. I can be miserable and cussing up a storm, but my heart can be crying out to Jesus for help. Likewise, I can have my hands in the air and say the most beautiful prayer, but my heart can be black as sin. (Look at the Pharisees and the Samaritan.) 

I do want to get back in a place of ministry, and witnessing to people, but for now I'm doing things a little different. I don't think there is a set way to do things with Jesus, there is no formula, no list, no do's or don'ts, just a bunch of messy human beings trying to find truth to settle their minds, and then get it right in their hearts. And that's all God really wants. He loves our sacrifices, but only if our hearts are in the right place (look at Cain and Able). So don't sacrifice yourself, or the things and the people you love, because you want to be more holy. Abraham didn't have to sacrifice his son, his beloved, his dream, his legacy. Neither should we, We just need to go back to the basics and remember why we love Him.

When the music fades and all is stripped away, and I simply come. Longing just to bring, something that's of worthy, that will bless your heart. I'll bring you more than a song, for a song in itself is not what you have required. You search much deeper within, through the way things appear, You're looking into my heart.

I'm coming back to the heart of Worship, where it's all about you, it's all about you, Jesus.

It is well,

-Saint