We step towards each other and those around us, and we remind each other that “there’s no space where God’s love can’t reach. There’s no place where we can’t find peace.” And then we stand together
One of the challenges of contemporary worship is creating space for complicated emotions like lament, despair and the cry for justice. This morning I felt convicted that it was imperative that we re-frame the music chosen for our contemporary service to create space for those emotions. These songs became, for me, that cry of agony–“Lord, may it be so…may it be so…”
Blessed Be Your Name (Matt Redman)
What does it mean for God’s name to be blessed after what happened in Charleston this week? I’m not sure. It’s not easy for me to be in worship this morning and for my heart not to be breaking for the pain and the suffering going on around me. My heart is breaking for the community of Mother Immanuel A.M.E. church in Charleston, also gathering today in worship, but with a heaviness I can’t even imagine. My heart is breaking for children around the world who don’t get the basic essentials of life I take for granted. My heart is breaking for people in this community who carry silent burdens they don’t feel they can talk about. I’m not sure what it means to sing this song when I am painfully aware of my role in a culture and system that is broken in so many ways.
And yet, isn’t that what this song is saying…and isn’t that why it’s important that we sing? When the darkness closes in…when the road is marked with suffering…when we walk through the wilderness…even then…blessed be your name. When our hearts are broken and the circumstances we are caught up in, whether they are as devastating as the events in Charleston or whether they are devastating in a way that only we can know, we lean into our faith and we lean in to community. We step towards each other and those around us, and we remind each other that “there’s no space where God’s love can’t reach. There’s no place where we can’t find peace.” And then we stand together—remembering that Christ stands with us–and we cry out–for ourselves, for each other and for the people in Charleston and around the country—because it’s true and because we desperately need it to be true–“I am…holding on to you…in the middle of the storm, I am holding on to you.”
I Am (David Crowder)
The good news of the Resurrection is that we worship a God who didn’t avoid death, but instead walked THROUGH death to destroy its grip on the world. And that’s what we’re called to do with and on behalf of those who are suffering around us. As the body of Christ and the hands and feet of Christ in the world, we, too, are called to walk into those places that look and feel like death and proclaim that death and destruction does not get the last word, because “there’s NO SPACE where God’s love can’t reach…there’s NO PLACE where we can’t find peace.”
And because of the resurrection we can stand together and sing about the amazing love God has for us. So as we lift our voices and proclaim God’s amazing love, may it also be the cry of our hearts that we be people who model and live this amazing love in all that we do.
Amazing Love (Newsboys)
Dear God, it’s hard for us to know how to pray, sometimes. And so we bring our pain, our questions, our despair and our hopelessness to you. We stand here in community, remembering that we are not alone. We stand here before the cross, grateful that you stand with us. We stand here preparing to receive the gifts of wine and bread today, painfully aware of our brokenness and our need for forgiveness. Speak to us, Lord, and stir in us a desire to live out there the incredible truths we proclaim in here…truths of forgiveness, amazing love, and hope. Stir in us a desire to be your hands touching those in pain. Stir in us a desire to be your feet, walking towards those from whom others turn away. May we be the ones who bring your steadfast, never-ending love to the world this week. We pray these things in the name of Jesus…Amen.