Flashing Lights, Tecnicolor Screen, And a Fog Machine, Oh My!!!

I worship with my eyes closed.  This is a personal choice. I do not by any means think everyone should close their eyes during worship.  If anything, I consider my need to close my eyes a reflection of a couple of big areas of weakness in my life.  First of all, I

worry too much about what everyone else around me is thinking about me when my eyes are open.

No one here raises their hands?  Oh, then I shouldn’t either…  I wonder if my singing sounds ok?  Yikes!  Did I just flub the words to that song?  Who noticed?

Stupid, ridiculous pride and before I know it, God has lost the preeminence in my worship.

And so…I keep my eyes closed.

Secondly, I guess I have some kind of serious issue with ADHD or something because all of the stuff that goes around me in worship can be fatally distracting.  I attend a large church which means there are…a lot of people.  People trying to find a seat.  People coming in late.  People chatting.  People drinking coffee.

Then there are the extras- The flashing lights (some are called intimidators!) that pulse in time with the music and sweep the crowd; The huge, huge, high def, Technicolor screen that makes my eyeballs ache; The fog machine for crying out loud…

I understand that all of these things are a deliberate effort to extend the church to the un-churched.  I get it.  I don’t begrudge it.

But I can’t process it either.

Oh, and I get migraines too and flashing lights are the bane of migraine sufferers.

So I keep my eyes closed. It is a solution that works for me.

Yesterday, I had my eyes closed in church.  I was deeply in worship, singing from a place raw understanding of just how cavernous my need for God is.  I was at that true place of worship where, even though I was in a sanctuary filled with hundreds and hundreds, I was alone before God singing…

I need Thee,

Oh, I need Thee!

Every hour I need Thee!

Then I got a bump to the elbow, jarring me out of worship.  A family had arrived very late, almost when worship was over, coffee in hand.  They wanted me to move so they could get to their seats.

I shook myself free of the holy, to offer grace to these my brothers and sisters as I moved to allow them to file into the seats beside me.

I don’t know what the answer is about modern worship.  I know there are moments when I want to run away to a small liturgical body, or escape to the Abbey of Gethsemane for a silent retreat.  (It is silent.  The whole place smells like fudge.  What is not to love?)

I sometimes wonder if it is worth the discussion to ask if the “un-churched” really want the flashing lights, fog machine, and Technicolor screen.  I don’t know…maybe they are weary of all the noise out there and would love some holy silence for a moment.

Here is what I do know.  Christianity is always the experience of being ripped from the solace of the holy to offer grace to the hard to love. 

That’s why we need Jesus.  Every single hour.