Author Archives: Lisa Lewton

When Does Worship Actually Start?

There is an abundance of confusion in the Christian church concerning worship. The root of the confusion has to do with how we live the rest of our lives. We live much of our lives as consumers. Passively, we consume media, products, services, and entertainment. When we passively receive something, little is expected of us. We simply receive what is offered.

Particular Christian churches thrive by selling entertainment in the form of worship music. It is not uncommon for Christians to gravitate toward congregations with entertaining musicians and impressive lighting. It allows worshippers to sit back and be entertained, just as we have come to expect in most areas of our lives. This kind of worship teaches people to passively receive, or consume what the church has to offer. Little is expected of the consumer.

Eugene Peterson spent many paragraphs pointing out the dangers of creating consumers in worship. There is a danger in passively depending on the product a worship leader can offer for spiritual renewal. The worship music might be excellent, but choosing a church based on what it offers, on what you might consume, will inevitably disappoint.

Instead, worship is a co-creative act. Passive worship is not worship.

At St. John where I serve, by the time worship begins, worship in many ways began months before. Could we wonder whether worship actually begins when the planning and discerning begins? In that case, by the time the worship service starts, the Worship and Music Director has studied at least a couple of resources, carefully chosen music to encourage people into a deeper focus on the Scriptures, and coordinated with a number of members helping lead the service. The preacher has spent hours pouring over the text. For me, sermon prep averages between 8-12 hours.

If we say worship begins when discerning the service begins, then I wonder if the worship service is still being created when people gather and the bell rings, marking the start of the service. It is at this point when those who are gathering shape the service: engaging in music and prayers, welcoming newcomers, noticing who is missing, and expressing some connection to the sermon with your face. (People, preaching to stoic faces is incredibly hard! Please smile or nod to indicate that you are indeed alive.)

This kind of participation in worship demands something of those who gather. Worship, then, is not a one-person or one-band “experience”. Worship is a communal expression of our faith in Jesus Christ and our yearning for deeper faith. It is not something we rate, like an Amazon purchase, nor is worship something we complain about when it doesn’t “meet our needs.”

Worship is not meant to meet your needs. That is Christ’s job. In worship, the Holy Spirit invites you not to sit back, but to dig in. To open your heart and let the Spirit do its work in you. There is too much at stake to sit back even for a single worship service.

If you become a worship consumer, what does that mean for your neighbor who is hungry, addicted, tired, imprisoned, or depressed? Your neighbor needs the Spirit to deepen your faith as you worship in order to share the deep love of Christ with your life.

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Our Kids

Imagine you are a spectator at a baseball or softball game in which you really want to watch the third baseman who is your niece/nephew/neighbor/grandkid/kid. Do you mostly cheer for the entire team or your favorite player?

Let’s say you attend a dance competition because you happen to be the chauffer of one of the dancers. In the three short minutes of the dance, do you watch the entire team or your favorite dancer?

Yes, I was my daughter’s chauffer over the weekend. If you have watched a group performance like dance, then you know it is slightly overwhelming to decide where to land your eyes. The whole performance goes by so quickly. Each movement has been thoughtfully choreographed by coaches and repeatedly practiced by each dancer. There is so much hard work to appreciate in any competition, including dance.

I want to watch my own hard-working kiddo kick, but if I focus only on her, I miss the movement of the entire team. I miss what a wonder it is when a team moves together. Watching a dance requires a spectator to appreciate the favorite dancer while at the same time zooming out to appreciate the team she is part of.

Watching my son play baseball over the years, the fans who cheer only for their own kid or grandkid slightly annoy me. Sure, each individual kid deserves a good shout out and encouragement. But that one kid is part of something larger. It is the something larger that is the point of the gathering. Not the individual, but the team.

My mom is a great cheerleader for the entire team. Each summer, she tries to memorize the names of all the baseball players and cheers for each one. She loves encouraging not only one kid but all the kids, including but not limited to her favorite, the right-fielder. Perhaps I’ve learned from her. In her cheering, my mom reminds kids they are part of something larger.

It’s been many years since I’ve been a kid, that’s for sure. My hunch is that is hard enough to be a kid competitor without a well-intentioned family fan cheering exclusively for her or him. This may be a stretch, but cheering for a team asks the adults to see all the kids as our kids. Spectating is a moment set apart when all our kids are encouraged, congratulated and forgiven, as needed.

And then maybe, maybe we might continue to practice encouragement, congratulations and forgiveness for all kids, even when no one is keeping score.

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The Anti-Chore List

I spent the better part of a couple of days this week in bed not feeling so great. Feeling unwell, although annoying and inconvenient, is simply a reminder of our humanness. Our mortality speaks up when our bodies do not do what we want them to do because of illness or aging.

Feeling crumby offers a gentle or abrupt invitation to be cared for, to admit we have needs, and to write an anti-chore list. This morning, I wrote an anti-chore list I’ll share with my family this week. In my many hours of rest, it slowly dawned on me that I’ve done what I sometimes (often) do at home: other people’s chores.

Writing an anti-chore list was very fun, and I suspect it will be helpful for the people with whom I live. Is it helpful or annoying that I sometimes (often) do their chores? Perhaps both.

It might be great when I do other people’s chores because, obviously, then they don’t have to do them! More leisure time for them! But it is also annoying. How does a person know what to expect when an overly helpful mom steps in? It would be like your co-worker sometimes (often) doing a task that belongs to you and not knowing whether it is even your responsibility anymore.

No longer will I feed the dogs, empty the dishwasher, and a few other tasks that belong to my kids. No longer will I step in when I can instead step aside. No longer will I ignore my own limits, no longer will a clean kitchen be more important than rest. No longer…until the next time! This lesson is not one-and-done with me, but rinse and repeat. And repeat.

Our days are a steady reminder that we are created both to love and be loved, to give and to receive.

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Prepared Enough

There are ten bridesmaids in the parable in Matthew 25:1-13. Five are called wise and the other five foolish. Late into the night of the wedding, all ten are waiting to meet the bridegroom. Where is the bride? We have no idea, which is a hint that the parable is not a true story. In a true story, the bride is somewhere.

In this parable, the five bridesmaids are wise because they planned ahead, anticipating that the bridegroom would be late. They prepared by bringing extra oil for their oil lamps. The five foolish bridesmaids only brought what they expected they would need. They brought enough oil for a bridegroom who knew that 15 minutes early is on time and on time is late.

This dude was extremely late. Late. Late. Late.

All the bridesmaids took a nap while they waited. When someone shouted that the bridegroom was on his way, the five foolish bridesmaids woke to realize the oil in their lamps were running out. They asked their wise friends for more oil, but they declined, sending the foolish out to find an lamp oil shop in the middle of the night.

Did you know there are podcasts for people who enjoy planning and planners? Entire podcasts giving tips on daily, monthly, quarterly, yearly planning, as well as highlighters, markers and pens. On Monday, I listened eagerly to a podcaster’s pen recommendations. Eagerly!

Planning, however, can pose a problem. If we are too eager to plan our days and lives, we cling to the oil in our own lamps. We cling to the routine, cling to the comfort, cling to our own plans and favorite pens.

The parable wakes me up to recognize life is not an adventure to be planned. When people arrive asking for oil, they are not a disruption but an unexpected part of the adventure. I like to think I would have been a wise bridesmaid in the story. But unlike the wise in the story, I would have shared my oil and not sent the others out into the night to pointlessly look for a 24-hour lamp oil shop.

Blessed are those who plan without growing too attached to their plans. And blessed are those whose plans include a radiant response to the unexpected.

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Resting or Distracting: You Need to Know the Difference

Checking out is not the same as resting. Scrolling or gaming on a phone is not resting. Watching a sports game (unless it is golf or baseball) is not resting. Baking is not resting even though your dough is resting. Scrolling, watching sports, and baking are means to distract ourselves. These activities do not count as rest.

Ever since I listened to a podcast episode called “Work Harder at Resting”, I have wondered the difference between rest and distraction.

  • Rest loosens your muscles and your tight grip on life. Distraction is avoidance.
  • Rest is a commitment to accomplish nothing for a period of time. Distraction is cheap entertainment.
  • Rest leaves you feeling content; you are glad you took time to do that. Distraction leaves you feeling hustled; the time you had to rest is now gone.

With phones constantly in reach, distraction is our default. Rest, on the other hand, is a protest against the flimsy offerings of distraction. Rest is a bold statement of trust in the God who offers the gift of rest.

“…we are situated on the receiving end of the gifts of God. To be so situated is a staggering option, because we are accustomed to being on the initiated end of all things. We expect nor even want a gift to be given, so inured are we to accomplishing and achieving and possessing. Thus I have come to think that the fourth commandment on sabbath is the most difficult and most urgent of the commandments in our society…”

“sabbath as resistance: Saying NO to the CULTURE OF NOW” by Walter Brueggemann, p. xiv

Rest requires a particular posture: open hands and open heart. How can God fill you with rest if you fill your minutes with distractions? How can God open your eyes to the landscape of God’s love if your eyes are on a screen? How can God open your heart if your heart is occupied with love for your distractions?

Today, how will you rest? Set a timer for 5 minutes and sit still by yourself, listening for God’s whispers. Read a psalm not to learn but simply to absorb the words. Download my favorite devotional app, Pray as you Go, and take a walk. When you reach for your phone, fold your hands and take three deep breaths.

“O God, you are my God, I seek you, my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” Psalm 63:1

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Your Life as a Roadmap

A roadmap shows you the road to follow to get you from here to there. On some trips, you can choose between a scenic highway or faster interstate. On other trips, there is but one possible route.

If you have no idea where you want to go, that is, if you know the here but not the there, a roadmap can still be helpful. I can’t remember who told me their family vacations begin without a destination in mind. The family gets into the car and from the backseat the kids decide, “Which way, right or left?” until they find a place to stop!

I prefer plan – a designated route from here to there. But again, as I remember throughout these weeks of Lent, I am not in charge. The Lenten story will end exactly where I wish it would not, year after year. The destination of Lent is a deadly cross before an empty grave. In the Christian faith, there is no other route on the map but the one from death to life.

The roadmap of your life otherwise resembles leaving the kids in charge. Right or left? Who knows what you might see or learn, which roads will be closed or which will surprise you with beauty. What will you notice about people and poverty and privilege? How will you be awakened to our work as Christians in a world God loves?

We can follow a map without knowing the way from here to there. It is a great relief not to be in charge of the world. We can be open to “right or left” as Christ guides us through the scenic route or faster interstate. The Holy Spirit is a great travel companion.

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How Lent is Like Bowling Bumpers

The inventor of the bumpers knew that bowling can be a spirit-crushing “leisure” activity. Filling the gutters with friendly bumpers makes the sport more fun for new bowlers while building confidence instead of crushing their spirits. The bumpers serve as an impenetrable boundary.

Because of the Lenten devotional “Bitter and Sweet: A Journey into Easter” by Tsh Oxenreider, boundaries have been on my mind. Lent calls us to pay attention to our boundaries and make more room for a life filled with Christ.

  • What boundaries do you set around your own time to rest? Rest is not the same as distractedly scrolling or taking an intense vacation. Rest means to accomplish nothing.
  • What boundaries do you set around communication with co-workers? Can people contact you whenever a question or idea floats through their brain, or only at certain times of the day when you, too, are in work mode?
  • What boundaries do you set around your kids to keep yourself from getting in the way of hard things they can do without your help? Do you let their responsibilities be their responsibilities, or do you keep overstepping because it’s just easier to do it yourself?
  • What boundaries do you set around your daily schedule to prioritize what you know you need to do in a day? Do you allow other people’s plans for your time to take over?

Boundaries are complicated. There is emotion involved.

Earlier this week, I let a meeting go too long and was one of the last moms to pick up my daughter at school. It was cold outside. She was dressed for winter and fine, but I felt horrible. I had ignored a boundary in my schedule and oh the mom guilt!

Lent can be an intentional time to slow down and notice boundaries. Most of the time, the people in your life want you to be well and that works best when you honestly communicate the boundaries you need. Use these remaining weeks of Lent to practice.

What bumpers can you place in your life to keep you focused on Jesus? How can a renewed sense of boundaries in a particular area of your life build your confidence, like a new bowler relying on the bumpers?

Unlike the bowling alley’s bumpers, your bumpers are not impenetrable. You will make mistakes as you practice setting boundaries. Fortunately for me, 10-year olds are eventually forgiving! And the pins are reset and we begin again.

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The Laborers’ Mistake

The parable of the laborers would have ended differently had the laborers kept their eyes on their own paychecks.

In Matthew 20:1-16, Jesus tells a tale of a vineyard landowner who hired laborers early one morning after agreeing to pay them the usual daily wage. Off to work they went.

Oddly, the landowner went on to hire more workers throughout the day. When he handed out paychecks at the end of the day, we learn he was less concerned about profit and more concerned about putting people to work. Understandably, the early risers expected a heftier paycheck than those who started at the end of the day.

That’s where the parable gets infuriating. The landowner paid all the workers, regardless of the number of hours they worked, the usual daily wage. Seeing everyone else’s daily wages, the early risers grumbled.

This parable is rich with conversation starters, but focus with me on only one: How does our understanding of what we already have change when we see what else we could have?

  • You have had your vehicle for a few years and it works just great. You are hoping to pay it off in the next year…until your neighbor buys a new car and suddenly you must replace your worn-out vehicle with a shinier one.
  • You decide to take a break from buying any new clothes for one whole month. And then you scroll through Instagram. And then the adorable new sweatshirt you ordered arrives on your doorstep!

The list could go on for me. The furniture is just fine, but then a Wayfair ad pops up. On Goodreads, I add more books to my want list instead of reading the books I already have.

The laborers agreed to the daily wage but grumbled when they saw what the landowner paid the others. And I get it. Not fair. Except…

What the early risers were paid was enough. It was the usual daily wage. It only became not enough when they took their eyes off their own paychecks.

Lent invites us to look at our own lives and see what we already have. Notice what is enough, recognize what is plenty. This is incredibly hard when you can have more with a “buy now” quick click. But what would happen if you chose not to buy it? Would you discover that what you have is already enough? What forgotten treasure might you find buried in a closet or dresser drawer?

When we look at our own lives and notice what we already have, the more we recognize the generosity of the landowner. Keeping our eyes on our own lives, the less we seem to want. Wanting less, the more we recognize what we already have, which is enough.

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Broken Streaks

Last week, streaks were broken. Wordle befuddled me. Broken streak. It was too dang cold to take a walk outside. Broken streak. I said no to workouts and yes to extra rest. Broken streak.

This week, our insurance company offered an app that adds to my list of potential streaks. If you opt in (I sure did) you can earn a discount on auto insurance. Cool. There are four drivers in my family. Someone says auto insurance discount and I say woohoo! Through my phone, the app tracks distracted driving. My streak is building. And…so is my pride.

Streaks do two things. Like a path, they keep us in line. A streak guides our time and choices, which can be a good thing. I want to drive without distraction and the streak number will encourage me. However, streaks can also encourage idolatry. Like all good things, streaks can be taken past the point of goodness. We become obsessed with them. As though a broken streak makes us a failure, we might rely on our streak to define our self-worth.

This week, I did a bit of starting over. Lent is a fitting season for starting over. You may know the word repentance, a word that gets more attention during Lent. Often, the word is used as instruction, as in, “Repent and stop the not-great thing you’re doing!” Lent begins with a long confession in which we promise to repent. And then we spend 40 days trying not to break the streak.

Despite our best work, streaks break. Life tumbles along and any impressive streak is breakable. Fixing the break means admitting the pride that grew along with the streak.

There is good news in the word repentance. Its literal meaning is “turn around”. To repent is to turn around. But there is more. I will be the first to admit my Biblical Greek is rusty, but I remember the word repentance is most often used in Scripture in a passive form. You do not turn around on your own. Instead, you are turned around. Who does the turning? Who else?

Throughout these 40 days, pride will swell, streaks will be broken, and Jesus will show up there. His streak of mercy is unending.

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Giving Up Christian Radio for Lent

This morning on the drive to school, my daughter and I turned the radio to a Christian station. We like some of the music and it is one of the few non-country stations in my corner of the world. In the 90’s, country music was awesome! Perhaps I’m getting old.

A moment after we started listening to the Christian station, I switched it off. As soon as the person giving the mini-sermon described “godless people” who are trying to raise kids without values, I turned to my daughter and explained that isn’t true. It is not true that parents who believe in God have better values than parents who do not. I did not add that there are plenty of Christian parents whose values I would question. Our commute is too short. And who am I to distinguish parents or anyone by their values?

It is a dangerous Christian faith that sets itself apart by speaking words of judgement. In an age when abuse in the church is finally being uncovered, the judgements related to values are also misplaced.

I am giving up Christian radio for Lent because I do not want to judge my neighbor by their values, but by their need. Where there is need, there is my neighbor whom I am called to love. Where there is any kind of human, “godless” or not, whatever that means, there is brokenness. Where there is mercy, there is Christ.

Where there is music, may you be moved to love your neighbor with the mercy of Christ.

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