From my sister blog... This one is for people who claim they "just believe the Bible".

LINK: YOU HAVE HEARD IT SAID: "God said it, I believe it, that settles it."

AN ODE: TO THE PERIMETER-PEOPLE...

Suggested Listening-and-Watching-Before-Reading: "The Safest Ledge" by Copeland

How to begin? What sort of flashy intro might I use to grab a reader's attention? ...I can't say I really care. This is not something I want to dress up and "sell" to anyone. It's not a hot-button Christian issue. It's not one of the ongoing discussions you see anyone paying attention to in Christian media... It's just something that I feel has to be said. And I think many of those who read it will find that their own conscience has already been stirring over these things. Others will be skeptical or afraid. Others will vehemently disagree... But I'm not here to point out something that no one has been thinking about or feeling until now. I'm here to (hopefully) give words to those thoughts and feelings that many of us have struggled to articulate. Myself, I have been grappling with how to say all this for a long time.

This may be Christianity's proverbial "Elephant In the Room."

Oddly enough, I wrote the majority of this entry almost two years ago exactly. I've let it "breathe" for some time, waiting to see when I felt like putting it out there to share with others. I've really lived with this one, wondering if the pressing reality I felt when it all first hit me would subside or lessen in impact... but it has not. I've wondered if I really, truly wanted to make a statement this dramatic, or to imply such major things despite the backlash that might entail... but I guess I'm at peace with whatever response is to come. I know now that I am not being presumptuous to publish this entry - I'm not trying to shove this out there without giving it full consideration first. I know because I gave it time. I gave it a lot of time.

But time has only shown me one thing: This is not going anywhere. And no one is saying these things the way I crave to hear them said, so that must mean I need to say them myself... That's not to say this will be my one, definitive "opus" on the subject. Nearly everything I write has been chipping away at the surface of this for some years now, but I know that, despite this being the most direct I've ever been in taking on these ideas, I'll continue to take them on from here out - both directly and indirectly. I'll continue to paint the image taking shape in my mind. It will come up again (and again) because the same SCANDAL I find here, I find everywhere. I find it in everything Jesus says - in every parable and every conversation. In every dealing with the religious, the Samaritan, the Greek, the Roman. I find it in the prophets. I find it in the apostles. I can't get away from it.

I'm thinking this is the story I was created to tell.

Anyone who knows me knows I'm not one for these sorts of grand proclamations in regard to myself. I tend to fall to the other extreme in that, if anything, I often discredit my own voice, or convince myself that other people are already saying what I have to say, and that I have nothing new to offer the discussion. I'm more prone to keep somewhat quiet about the full, blunt truth of what I see around me... But my bout with persistent and (dare I say) prophetic dreams over the past few months (which were really heavy - spiritually, emotionally and physically, and which I detailed in my previous blog) served only to revive these same concerns within me, which I had put down and filed away two years ago.

Thus, where I may have been too slow to pass along this perspective in my waking life, God has apparently chosen to wake me up from within my dreams... The irony is not lost on me. But what I danced with poetically in my dreams, I will now dance with a bit less poetically. And there's no introduction I can give the statement I'm making here beyond that... Here's the big reveal - AN ODE: TO THE PERIMETER-PEOPLE...

I’d like to begin with a selection of the apostle John’s writing.

…After this there was a festival of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew “Bethesda,” which has five porches. In these lay many invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed. (For an angel went down at a certain time into the pool and stirred up the water; then whoever stepped in first, after the stirring of the water, was made well of whatever disease he had.) One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. 

When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, ‘Do you want to be made well?’ The sick man answered him, ‘Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Stand up, take your mat and walk.’ At once the man was made well, and he took up his mat and began to walk.

To many, this story is a familiar one. Most of those raised anywhere near the church would say it's the kind of story you're as likely to hear in the "adult sanctuary" as you are in "Sunday school" with the kids. And that makes sense, of course: At its core, there's a simple account of Jesus' healing and compassion on display. However, as I began to read from (what we refer to as) John chapter 5 - which I've done a number of times before - this time, the context of of what was taking place here really jumped out at me. For the first time in my life, I began to sense some implications here beyond "Jesus healed a guy." For the first time, I examined the healing through what it would have appeared to mean then... And, as a result, an idea of what a similar act of Jesus might look like now began to take shape.

That's the part which really floored me... I'll explain. Let's recap the situation from the passage first: In Jerusalem, and in the first century, there's a pool called Bethesda, which people go to for healing. The water is believed to have healing properties.

There is a man at Bethesda. A regular. Part of the usual crowd. This man has had some sort of infirmity or disease or handicap for thirty-eight years. We don't know exactly what it was, but thirty-eight years is a long time, whatever the physical issue might be.

Whatever it is that keeps this man at Bethesda is extremely debilitating and limiting to him. He can't move well enough to even have a chance with the way of things at this pool... So he's very sick, and yet, the path of healing is literally beyond his reach. He's on the outskirts and cannot move any closer to the source.

His words to Jesus indicate that he's losing hope. He knows what he seeks, but does not see how he can possibly receive healing when it's impossible for him to contend with others and play by the rules of Bethesda... And yet, there he is. At this renowned "pool of healing." Part of the crowd.

There are many who take this circumstance (and Jesus' response to it) as some sort of metaphor for the world or a world system - so the message they might derive from this passage would essentially be something along the lines of "Jesus is the only true healer." And, while that's a valid sentiment worthy of discussion, I do not see it really meshing with the context of Bethesda. It strikes me as a very small and convenient aim, requiring little of those who hold to it.

There are probably many more people who've taken this circumstance as nothing more than "a healing of Jesus" (without much thought given to what Bethesda was, or how it informed this situation specifically, or what part it played in Jesus doing as he did). For them, this story never left the safety and tidiness of felt-board cutouts in the Sunday School classroom. This, too, strikes me now as a small perspective. In the gospels, Jesus is always dynamically responding within contexts. He doesn't just float along - aloof, working some esoteric program. He's always aware and invested. He's always presenting meaning - always acting in a way which also speaks volumes. So, keeping that in mind, I'll finish the recap in this chain of events.

Jesus comes along to Bethesda, and can see the man's condition. Jesus can tell the road has been long and weary for this guy.

Jesus extends the simple, compassionate question: "Do you want to be made well?" And obviously the man does, but he explains to Jesus the humble truth - that he has no one to help him, and it is impossible for him to reach healing within this system.

And that's when Jesus tells him to stand up and walk. The man rises, and walks.

So... what do we see?

Apart from meeting Jesus out on the perimeter of this crowd, blocked off from what it was there to celebrate, this man would have remained there - part of the "healing crowd" and yet... without healing, and very much alone. And that brings me to a bit bolder of a statement, which I think needs to be made because I never hear it put out there, much less with any conviction. See, it's very rare for the ethical or moral quality of Bethesda to be discussed much at all when this passage is brought up - those subjects are most often left alone entirely. It's as though some people (especially those in charge of "teaching" these things) avoid the subject purposefully, like they don't want to take a stand in either direction. As for me... I'm not who I used to be, and I'm comfortable to take a 'position' on Bethesda. So I'll go ahead and make the statement I believe needs to be made:

The entirety of what Bethesda stands for is a lie.

That's a nagging suspicion I've held - somewhere, buried internally - for years, but I want to finally let it out. For so long, I felt like admitting this would be some sort of sacrilegious affront to the memory of this pool of healing, as though the place itself was just fine (or at least not worthy of open criticism), and this particular man just needed some extra help, and that's what brought Jesus along to him (or maybe Jesus just "happened by" and "seized the moment")... That's the essence of the cautious and tame view taken by many and taught from many pulpits.

However, I feel perfectly at liberty to point out a few things here that bother me about this pool and this crowd. I've always pushed that reaction aside while looking at this story... Maybe I was subconsciously afraid of the implications... but not anymore. So I'll admit it: I don't like this system they've got going at Bethesda. I don't like it at all. And for at least two reasons:

1) Their system is unfounded... In's a nice legend they have going, but there's nothing in Hebrew scripture to suggest that healing must happen in this place, as though God was dependent on or shackled to a location. Not that God wouldn't heal or move in spite of their misguided traditions, but still, the idea of God being merciful doesn't validate something which is false just because God works within it. (Might I begin to suggest here that God working within our church services doesn’t necessarily validate how we’re assembling ourselves to the point where we can cease to question how we gather and what we aim for together?)

2) Their system is unfair... And that's the worse part. Their formula for healing favors those who need healing the least, and that's a fundamental flaw at the root of this story which should not be overlooked (though it usually is). The odds are literally stacked against the ones who need healing most. And thus, they've created a competition - here in the place of brokenness - and within that competition, those of privilege, those with more power, have a guaranteed "win." A hierarchy has arisen. The centerpiece of this gathering is dominated by a select few to the exclusion of others.

As I admitted these things to myself, instead of pretending everything was shiny (and still trying to take something true from the passage despite that dishonesty), I allowed myself to react to Bethesda how I would apart from tradition or familiarity. I became annoyed, indignant. I thought (and almost spoke audibly), "This place is stupid and wrong, and it's nothing like God's nature. How can I revere and respect so corrupt a system?" ...And then I sensed a still and small nudge - that moment of clarity when you realize such a thing - a wash of quiet understanding, as though God replied, "Yep. Exactly. That's what I always thought too."

A flood of thoughts unwrapping this passage in a new light came to me. I felt like I was finally viewing the situation as Jesus would have seen it then, and not just some cheap or cute version of it. It was so clear: The pool of Bethesda had become a system of abuse. A place of competition and contrivance and control. That's what it had to look like then - holding its tradition over the heads of the broken and burdened, keeping them dependent on a promise that would ultimately prove to be nothing but vapor for most of them. Still, their retelling of an older legend involving an angel kept most of them repeatedly attending. Hoping the formula would work. Hoping they could play by the rules of Bethesda and be rewarded with healing. Hoping they could be amongst the few lucky ones, even as repeatedly subjecting themselves to the system also subjected them to abuse and neglect, eventually embittering them. They became regulars to this show despite their reasoning having long ago morphed from hope to hopelessness. They just hung on as their hearts calloused, and they ultimately became more defined by their brokenness than they might have been before showing up to take part in the healing.

When you see the essence of that time and place for what it was... You can't help but start to see some pretty heavy implications for now as well. Let's face it: The parallels between Bethesda then and "church" at large today are, well, scary.

And a cautionary tale begins to take shape. It could be phrased in many ways...

When the place of healing has itself become a place which fosters sickness... When what should be the even ground of God's mercy has itself become a competition... When grace and rest in God's touch have become perverted by the rat race of a broken humanity... When the scope of God's power and heart have been reduced to controlled formulas... When the potential for healing favors some and excludes others, establishing a hierarchy of who's good enough and who's not... When a place set aside for the sick to get better has become a place of discrimination and judgment... And when the promise of wholeness is dangled in front of those it's not legitimately being offered to, because they've quietly been deemed "beyond the reach" of healing...

WATCH OUT. Because that's a dangerous place to find yourself in. You could spend decades there and experience no change at all. Your great hope could become your great hopelessness. And you could even become more defined by whatever afflictions, limitations, disabilities, burdens and baggage you carry than you were before you went to that place.

Bethesda.

They had a whole pool of it then. But I'd argue we have a lot more of it now. It's all over the place. Christianity as a culture is saturated with it, choking on it. It's everywhere. 'Places of healing' in name are so often 'places of sickness' in practice. And we need to see the parallels. We need to connect-the-dots, so we don't delude ourselves in the very realms where Jesus so courageously moved with beauty and freedom in order to bring us clarity. Let's put it this way: ANY system of inequality which would color our common, human need and desire to "be made well" is not a system we should be encouraging. It's an institution dealing in damage and abuse, the casualties of which are people.

And let's take that a step further, considering Jesus' response to the system in place at the pool of Bethesda... It would seem that any such system is one that Jesus has no problem whatsoever working outside of and beyond. Jesus has no problem undermining the formula. Jesus has no reservations when it comes to moving beyond our hangups and abuses, however much religious credibility they might carry.

To those who desire to be made well - who are sick, and who need more than anything to be spiritually-healed, restored to intimacy and purpose, discovering a peace which surpasses understanding and freedom from the brokenness which has tried to define them... the people of God are to be a "place of healing" for their sake. It's our mission: Love. But if the place renowned as one of healing looks more like Bethesda - a place of false hope, dangling the idea of healing before them, but never truly offering it (or even modeling it) beyond words... And if the people gather selfishly, seeking their own betterment first and foremost, isolated in their hearts from one another despite being joined together... then Jesus will go around that system, or any system like it. Jesus will not be bound to unfounded and unfair systems.

And Jesus will not be found at the center of such systems... though you might find him on the perimeter.

It was an elaborate system they had going too, wasn't it? The parenthetical backdrop provided within the passage from John paints the picture for us. It was surrounded by its own mythology, with a set of its own rules and a status quo all its own. They all gathered. They all knew the drill. But, as we saw, Jesus healed the honest and broken man in spite of this elaborate system. And outside of it too.

I wonder how often we've seen our own faces reflected in that shameful pool.

And I wonder especially, how often has it been the case that we've been so intent on the stirring of the water - and so focused on our chance to dive in and claim whatever experience everyone thinks so highly of - that we've missed Jesus entirely in the process? How many times, while we all remained fixated in one direction, was Jesus out in the margins, making friends with someone we had no time for? How many times have we seen people jockey for power, position and prominence, elbowing and boxing out those around them, only to find the place of glory they had so desired fell short, and that the people they hurt in the process were the real prize they had missed out on?

Within the church today - all over the world - there are many people, routinely gathered, who want to be made well. They've prayed the “magic words” prayers, and bought books, and listened intently and earnestly to people they believed must have the answer, casting their lot with decades and centuries (and millennia) of tradition... and yet something has been lacking. They still want to be made well. They've found themselves routinely submitted to a place of healing which really has no place for them unless they are to live their spiritual lives as a masquerade, which would be hypocrisy. They've found themselves repeatedly held to standards and rules which defeat the purpose of healing altogether. The promises of a "new covenant" or  "liberty in the Spirit" have been overshadowed by new Laws and eleventh commandments. They've been led to practice discrimination, railing against one thing they determine to be "sin" while ignoring other sins (that is, the obvious ones which implicate them) entirely. There's even an Evangelical culture (here in America specifically) which has allowed itself to crawl into bed with a certain political party, and which has cultivated (among other things) a nationalized view of church that results in young and innocent children pledging allegiance to an American flag followed by a "Christian" one - cementing in them (perhaps forever) a false understanding that these two things go together, hand-in-hand, and that God's kingdom is to be treated as though it was a kingdom of this world.

...All of this is a despicable lie. And it's a lie which parades itself before us with such confidence that few of us even realize it's making a mockery of the very healing we showed up to find in the first place. It's a lie which further entrenches us within the icy grip of the disease, and simultaneously tries to convince us that we've found the cure.

Is it really any wonder that so often, in so many places, a prevailing false gospel of prosperity persists and grows? This idea that God is more interested in you having the American dream, and less interested in you loving your neighbor (and your enemy while you're at it)? This idea that you can look the other way at all the greed, violence and oppression wreaking havoc on the world around you, so long as you feel "blessed," and so long as you don't disrupt your own pursuit of comfort (or anyone else's)? And all the while, so many who claim a union with Jesus continue to live contrary to everything he so clearly demonstrated. They think that their praying the right words, making mental assent to the right things, and attending "services" validates that claim. A life of love, even sacrifice, is not so much the priority. They believe in salvation by affiliation, not transformation. They believe that "gospel" - which literally means "good news" - is a message of guilt and self-loathing (but God loves your pathetic ass anyway). They believe that drumming up an emotional response musically is the primary exercise of "worship," rather than measuring worship the same way Jesus did: in how people, and particularly "the least of these" were being treated.

With all this (and so much more) being the sad reality around us...

We have to ask ourselves, What would God have to say about this? I think the prophets provide us with that answer time and again. I actually did a good deal of chronicling that message in another blog. And I'm reminded of Malachi in particular, who found Israel in a very similar state to Christianity today, and said:

How I wish one of you would shut the Temple doors so that these worthless sacrifices could not be offered! I am not pleased with you,” says the Lord of Heaven’s Armies, “and I will not accept your offerings. But my name is honored by people of other nations from morning till night. All around the world they offer sweet incense and pure offerings in honor of my name. For my name is great among the nations,” says the Lord of Heaven’s Armies.

How scandalous this was then, hundreds of years before Jesus and the new covenant! And how scandalous it remains today, in a Christianity where people make no room for the way Christ himself would designate the parameters of his people... where his inclusion and affirmation of goodness and beauty (wherever it might be found) is dismissed, or viewed as "relativism," or some other minimizing thing meant to scare us away from it in order to obscure its simplicity... Malachi's prophetic declaration insists that, even under the old covenant, God's "name" (nature, character, will, purpose) was potentially being honored, upheld, witnessed to and made great... by non-Hebrew people all over the world. Outside the Jewish system of faith, even theology. By whoever brought an offering of "purity" before God - even if they didn't have the "recipe book" for doing so.

Dwell on that a moment.


Don't miss the challenge it would have presented to the average Jew - the affront it would have been to their common understanding, which said, "We are God's chosen people. People of the law. People of the covenant. We have the correct beliefs, rites and rituals. We're set apart and properly-affiliated. We're 'in' by default." But God replies to that line of thinking with a resounding, "No. Absolutely not. In fact, there are people without any of the benefits you've known who know me, engage me, and move with me in truth and in beauty. And so long as you remain the way you are, I wish you'd just close the doors of the Temple." 

In the foreground of this communication we see God correcting a covenant people, but in the background is the even more scandalous and revolutionary truth: Even then, under a more "centralized faith system," God never had a problem recognizing people of conscience and spirit the world over. God liberated the Jews and set them apart to be a blessing to the world... but God did not call the Jews to have the market cornered on spirituality itself - like some exclusive club - the ONLY people who "belonged to God." In reality, the most "true" form of Judaism was never anything but an inclusive one. 

It would seem beyond apparent then that God's way of designating "God's people" has always ultimately been the same way Jesus made so apparent, and even blatant: God has always had higher ideals than any certain set of temple practices or religious rituals (and again, the great weight of prophetic voices adamantly and repeatedly has exactly this to say). Ideals of others-centerdness. Ideals of generosity. Ideals of conscience. Ideals of LOVE... Micah summed it up this way:

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good.
And what does the Lord require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.

It stands to reason that if all of this could be true then, it remains just as true today. In an age where Jesus has torn the veil of the temple and promised the Spirit of God all the more liberally, how could it not be at least as true as it used to be? Jesus modeled so much of this while spending time in the margins, and on the perimeters of those places of gathering and healing that religious society had designated as its own... And so, wherever we might set up four walls, and hear our own voices echo those of our ancient sisters and brothers in faith... "We are God's chosen people. People of grace. People of the new covenant. We have the correct beliefs, services and moral stances. We're set apart and properly-affiliated. We're 'in' by default." ...We must understand the crucial truth that, though the wording has changed a bit, the core assumption we make is the same.

And Jesus would have no problem whatsoever in shattering that assumption.

Let's bring this back home.

At some point, we must admit that there are people who know that God knows them, and that they are loved by God, and who desire to know and love God themselves… and yet who find the “church” to be a hurdle (at best) in that pursuit. Many Christians cannot come to grips with this reality, and openly dismiss anyone who is unwilling to “come to Jesus” via them and their words, their programs, their methodologies, their formulas... It’s as though they believe they are “the way, the truth and the life,” since they have a hard time accepting a God who is bigger than their perception of who’s “in” or “out” according to their classifications… But be certain, God is very much in the habit of working beyond the expectations of the religious, and God is very much at home on the perimeter. So when we say, "This pool is all we need. We have the place and process mapped out. We recognize the action of God here and here alone," Jesus says, "My friends, I'm doing just fine out here on the perimeter, thanks. Come out sometime if you want to indeed be free."

This is the God of the Exodus. This is the God who was happy to dwell nomadically in tents (tabernacles) and never demanded a temple, and who never was limited exclusively to a temple despite allowing one. This is the God who is so powerfully known and made known to those in exile. This is the Spirit-God who is compared to “wind” and “fire” and “water” – things which move and flow freely. And if we’re uncomfortable with a God on the perimeter – a God outside of our pre-established institutional meeting places and times – we really haven’t come to grasp the overarching narrative of scripture, which consistently shows a precedent of non-precedent for whom God calls, and when, and where, and why… and how those women and men are called, moved and changed in ways we would least expect. 

If we question why God is working so much in the margins, and in ways we are uncomfortable with and unaccustomed to, we really must reexamine our own places of gathering, our own systems of healing. If they distort the heart of God and abuse the people of God as Bethesda did, they will ultimately repulse the person longing after real healing, spiritual formation, wholeness, and peace… And being repulsed by such a system? That’s no discredit to such a person. It’s a discredit to us. For them, it is actually a sign of integrity and conscience - they demand more than a selfish system of inequality from a spiritual people. They demand more of any "God" they would determine is worth believing, not to mention believing in. And to not concede this point takes nothing away from them or the potential reality of their God-encounter... but it does show plainly our own obsession with that stagnant old pool. 

Can we not see? 

For so many of us - while we long for even a glimpse of a stirring in that water - we ignore the great and torrential ocean of grace and liberty which exists out on the perimeter. Who among us would have the courage to come down from the known safety of our structures, or to leave the familiar embrace of our formulas? Who among us would seek Jesus even if it means heading into the uncharted territories? Who among us has the tenacity of faith, hope and love required to find (and to become) a new kind of "healing community?" A people who do not abuse or neglect one another while claiming they're being healed... a people who do not fight over a prize and miss the prize that exists in each other? 

Who is yearning to live a life of radical, practical faith without the crutch of being bound to the same old Pool, staring into that stagnant water? Who is ready to chase after being made well without limiting such an aim to whatever Bethesda they've known? If that's me, and if that's you... We have to learn to live in the tension of the perimeter. 

Who is ready to be a Perimeter-Person?


NOTES Do I need to be more blatant in what I'm implying? I don't think so. Those who resonate with these words wouldn't need me to, and those who loathe what I'm saying wouldn't benefit from me beating them over the head with it either.

Am I building an entire position out of one passage? Absolutely not. Bethesda was a catalyst for me - a point of reference in which I could see my overall understanding of scripture reflected in its waters.

IN SLEEPLESS DREAMS...

I should make this clear: I don't dream. Not often.

I know the experts say we dream all the time, but I don't - at least, not in any coherent or memorable sense. Not typically, anyway. I'm more the type of guy who has a few nightmares a year and wakes up vaguely scared. On rare occasion, I'll have a memorable random dream. But it fades fast. They always do. And another thing I'll point out is that I don't move in my dreams. Sometimes I'm in my own head seeing with my own vision, but often I'm just observing situations like a fly on the wall. And even when I am in a body, and strange things begin to happen, calling for me to move or run... I can't. I'm paralyzed a huge portion of the time. I try to move and my limbs are like lead-coated cement blocks. They're useless. And I become aware at that point that I'm in-between the dreaming and the waking - that suddenly my actual body is involved and I can't force it to run from danger, because it's, you know, asleep. This frustration is usually quick to wake me up, since whatever it is I needed to flee from catches up with me right away.

As you might have guessed, most of my nightmares don't last long. I might make an audible "Uuhhhmmm" and then stir awake, thankful for control of my arms and legs.

But lately... I have been dreaming. I've been dreaming a lot. It's getting to the point where I can wake up really tired from the emotional and mental strain of the dreams. Most of them aren't horrific or anything, just dense and vivid, which is something I'm not used to. Lots of detail and nuance. And there is a feeling of somber revelation coming from them - even when I can't interpret what it is I've dreamed - I wake up with the same feeling you have after the twist comes in a good movie. I'm left feeling the same weight of gravity.

And my eyes hurt. It happened last month when this all started, and then I got a break from it. But now this past week, it's back again. I'm guessing it's from the large amount of REM sleep I'm getting? ...My eyes feel overworked. Tired. They're sore whenever I move them.

One more thing I'll mention (before relaying a couple of the specific dreams I've had recently) is that there is one dream which seems to have always been with me. I've had it numerous times since I was young, and more recently, it seems I have it every few years or so. I've never known what it means or why it has proven to be the defining dream of my life so far... but all that may be coming into focus.

In the dream, I've seemingly left a large amusement park at night. It's a very dark night, and I'm standing in the parking lot while the action inside continues on - the periodic roar of people on massive roller coasters going through their drops and flips, the flashing lights of every imaginable color, the steady swirl of the Ferris wheel, and the general, happy din of all those still inside - eating, walking, playing games, riding rides, and going about the general business of having fun. And all of it glowing brilliantly on this dark night. It's as though, if you were in the amusement park, you wouldn't see how dark it is, and once you're outside of it, the glow of the park captures and demands your attention regardless.

So I'm standing in the parking lot. There are some people with me, but it doesn't always matter who they are. Occasionally, they've been family or close friends, but sometimes they're just nameless and faceless people.

And then it happens: The entire world flips 90 degrees. In a sickening instant, what was flat ground beneath my feet becomes a flat wall to which I'm hopelessly attempting to press my body against - a sheer cliff face with no holds for hands or feet. Large vehicles tumble around me and spin off into the black abyss below, but somehow I hold on. The people I'm with are able to desperately claw at the asphalt as well. This doesn't last long. In the dream, I next get a sense that my shoulders are straining. My fingers chafe and burn from trying to hold on to nothing. And then I look up (or rather, to the side) at the amusement park... And unbelievably, it's still going on just as before as though nothing has happened, completely unaware that a great shift has taken place in the world. The park has so entertained and overwhelmed the senses that those inside have been kept from the reality of what has happened, and the gravity of it has not affected them. They have been preserved in this state of amusement, this bubble of escapism...

And I wake up.

This dream is not a long one, but it has never been a fun one either. And with my recent surge in the dreaming, I've been thinking maybe I need to reevaluate it. I'm thinking it may be finally coming to light. I won't explain how - I'll leave interpretation to anyone reading this - but, if you know me, and you know the things that I get passionate about, you might have a sense of how this dream (and the others I'll share below) can fit in with the "aim to reflect what is, and what should be" of this particular blog...

I hesitate to tell this next dream. It was a few days before I shared it with anyone. I sat on it for awhile wondering if I should feel guilty about it... I have no agenda in sharing it now, but I also want to be transparent in these strange developments in my sleep life, because any major development in my dreams is a major development in general for me. Something vivid from my subconscious is pretty big news in Kevinland. And I write big news down. It's what I do. It's how I take stock and keep track of things.

1) Thursday night I dreamed of a dense jungle. The sheer amount of trees, foliage and uneven terrain made it difficult to see very far in any particular direction. It was daytime, but hazy due to the canopy overhead. Just a whole lot of old growth everywhere. And a lot of "old death" too, I guess, as there were also plenty of downed tree branches and trunks, slippery with humidity. The whole thing was thick and obtrusive. Almost claustrophobic, but I found I wasn't scared despite being a lifelong claustrophobic person. Still, all of this added up to the very kind of environment you wouldn't want to get chased in unless you were a hardcore parkour god or something.

And this is precisely what began to take shape in my dream - a classic chase.

What emerged there in the jungle was something I can only describe as a Monster. I know it was dark (the blackest black you can imagine), and that a dark cloud of ambiance surrounded it. I know it was large and powerful and imposing, but I never got a full glimpse of it. I know it had odd appendages - almost spider-like hands or fingers at the end of long, sinewy arms - while the body was more like that of a large ape if I had to pin it down, but again, I never got a good look. In total, it was a massive thing, but it was surprisingly agile.

And while I say this dream featured a chase and a Monster, the strange thing is that this dream was not scary, but somber. To put it another way, if this dream had been a genre film, it would have been a drama and not a horror movie.

I found myself in a slight clearing in the jungle. Around me were a bunch of men - some of whom I know, and some of whom I didn't know, but I still understood who these others were -they were the same as the ones I knew. What everyone in that clearing had in common was their background. Each of us had been (or was) a "pastor," a "teacher," or whatever else you might call it. We were of various ages and affiliations, but these were all people who'd been entrusted with a platform of spiritual authority in some place or another.

And the Monster didn't come upon us or ravage through the jungle toward us. It didn't startle us at all, really. Rather, it began to appear in our midst. It began to take shape as we stood there, and I remember feeling sad (again, not scared) as this happened. But I knew I needed to run as soon as I recognized that it was indeed a Monster materializing, so I took off. A few others did too. Some waited longer. Others, I think, just stood there. Some of them who waited to see it fully form might have not even realized it was there until it was too late. But there weren't any bloodcurdling screams or anything. Even so, the Monster took its full form and those closest to it disappeared. They weren't violently ripped apart or eaten - they were just consumed by its darkness, its aura. And once they were consumed, the Monster started heading for the rest of us.

Remember how I said I can't move in my dreams (let alone run like crazy)? Well it didn't apply here. I was running impressively - dodging hanging branches, jumping those blocking the path, vaulting rock outcroppings, and sliding down embankments with fluidity and grace. (Forget dreams, I can't do any of that in REAL life.) ...But the Monster persisted, and as it did, it overtook people behind me. Again, no screaming or gore - it just absorbed them somehow. And it got a little bigger each time it did, I guess, because it was bigger near the end of the dream than it was at the beginning.

This went on for awhile.  

By the end of the chase, I had pulled myself up a short wall of slimy roots and rolled over the top. There was one other person still with me, struggling to get up the same wall. I scrambled back to the edge and leaned down to grab hold of him. Then I heard a rustling in the thick of what we had just passed through. I looked up and saw nothing at first, just leaves and foliage swaying... until I caught a glimpse of black, spindly fingers holding onto a branch. The rest of its body was hidden by the plant life below. But the Monster had stopped pursuing for the moment. It was perched, observing, waiting. All was quiet. And I knew I would have to keep moving, but I also knew I would be chased again as soon as I did. And again, I felt sad. There was a real emotional gravity to that moment. A reckoning. Though I wasn't afraid of this Monster, I knew I could not simply remain with it here. It would pursue again. It had claimed the jungle as its own. And even if I was to find that I personally had no problem evading it forever within the jungle, did I really want that chase to define my existence? Did I want to be forever near this thing? The perimeter of the jungle was within reach, but it was absolutely unknown - it was a blinding light, free of the safety of the canopy of old growth I'd always known.

Leaping into it could change everything.

I woke up.

2) One of the first places a lot of people head to when they land in Thailand is the Khao San Road. It's a street in downtown Bangkok - a few blocks' length of an uninterrupted backpacker haven. All down the street are food stalls (churning out glorious Pad Thai all day, every day), clothing vendors, massage experts, henna artists, and carriers of random trinkets. Behind all this, you'll find more vendors on the sidewalks, where purveyors of nicknacks have storefront umbrellas which open up-and-out to passersby. You can find anything you need for travel in these places, and they are peppered around the street next to the other three things you'll see a lot of - convenience stores, restaurants, and guesthouses. The convenience stores and restaurants also line the street, while the guesthouses are typically located directly behind or on top of them, sometimes accessible only via small alleyways... The point is, the street is absolutely packed with nonstop traveler-oriented places of interest. It's pretty glorious in its own way. A charming collision of eastern hospitality and western... normalcy.

I bring all this up to say that if you imagine that same street, but take away all of its lovely imperfection, and the charming ingenuity of the working poor who fashioned it, and replace it with nothing but "nice" places to eat, drink and stay (and certainly no street vendors)... And if you wrapped each establishment in a cold and calculated facade of prefabricated "diversity" - so those who came to visit the street got a false sense of there being a variety of options... You'd have the setting of my second dream from this past Sunday afternoon's nap. It was a phony amusement park land, made to appeal to privileged, stuck up tourists rather than simple, open-minded travelers. It lacked the honesty and grit of the Khao San Road.

And in my dream, I worked there in the anti-Khao San. I had a job in one of the establishments. Now, unlike the jungle chase, there wasn't a continuous narrative flow to this dream. It came in snapshots. Vignettes depicting the shiny appearance of this resort place, but also hinting at the reality of what was behind it. 

This dream, by the way, was scary.

The tourists would come and go. They would eat, they would drink, they would enjoy the entertainment... But always, there were the managers and proprietors watching over everything. I'll call them "Executives." They were like a tribe unto themselves - perfectly groomed, clean-shaven, and glowing in their tuxedos. And though they ran different properties within the resort, I understood them to be a collective - a corporate entity that determined its agenda and followed it with a ruthless efficiency. Even without seeing much of each other, they had a singular ideal in place and operated somewhat like a hive-mind.

They would not tolerate anything (or anyone) disturbing the illusion they had worked so hard to create. And they maintained this illusion at all costs, for there could be no disruption of the Great Show.

Within the greater resort, the particular establishment that I found myself working for was styled like a lodge. Everything was wood inside - floors, chairs, tables, walls - all in a glossy, caramel-colored stain. There was a bar in the front room nearest the street, and separate dining halls leading off to each side behind it. French doors were kept open while dividing each of the spaces from the next, and at the joining of all the rooms was a central atrium - which featured a large glass skylight directly over a circular stage. The stage itself was made out of white plastic, and the natural light pouring through the glass provided an additional stark contrast to the dark woods all around the atrium. Anything that would have been placed on that stage would have stood out like bacteria under a microscope. The combination of white stage and glass roof made for an awkwardly exposed centerpiece to such an earthy, rustic establishment.

It was odd... But it was also somehow the "truth" of this place. It was the real core of the establishment, regardless of how everything around it was made to look. It was cold. Sterile. Even walking into the atrium made you feel violated or under heavy surveillance. When you were in there - serving food and drinks, or facilitating entertainment - you were all smiles. You were on your best behavior. And I had the distinct sense that each Establishment up and down Resort Street had a similar room at its center.

The entertainment kept the guests (seemingly) happy enough, but it was all either phony or dangerous. Phony like the not-good-enough-for-Vegas song and dance acts you might find on a cruise ship. And dangerous like physically dangerous, only no one would let on that they recognized they were in danger sitting there, passively taking it all in... One time, there was some sort of fight planned between huge beasts. One was a bear and the other a lion, I think. They might have been something else (or beasts my mind just invented for the dream). These creatures were let loose amidst all of the people, snarling and running at each other. Time and again they collided, and each time their forms met there was a great clash of snapping bones and flying fur. The room itself wasn't that big - the stage took up most of it - and the beasts did not stay only on the stage. Their fight spilled over it and onto the floor, near the people. 

This was all terrifying, but the key for employees was to look confident and unfazed by the show. The Executives forever loomed in their tuxedos, watching you at all times to make sure you never broke the illusion they wished to instill. This was particularly scary when I felt it was doing the guests a disservice, since it produced in them a crass and carefree attitude toward what was an actual and direct threat to their safety. They were being entertained by terrifying things. They'd welcomed a spectacle without considering its potential affects. Thus, instead of running or even guarding themselves, they clapped and cheered as dangerous, beastly limbs (and claws, and teeth) came within inches of their bodies during the fight.

And not everyone was able to emerge from such experiences without injury.

One morning, after such an event the day before - and before business had picked up for the day, I was in the atrium cleaning up. A friend of mine (who I know in real life, though I didn't know him in the dream) limped into the room, clearly in great pain. I'm not sure if he worked there with me or had been a guest, which is strange to me since the rest of the dream was so vivid... but maybe it doesn't matter, and his situation could apply to either a customer or an employee. Whatever the case, he was pale and looked exhausted. He was also shirtless. On his stomach - just to the left of his belly button, running vertically - was a large wound. It had been a gash that was already tended to, but the medical attention had been careless and haphazard. Each side of the skin had been folded back in towards the other and it looked like a crooked canyon in his torso. The area surrounding the wound was puffy, pasty, chapped and red. I knew it must be extremely infected... He needed help. 

Looking on (as always) were at least two tuxedo-clad Executives. They made no attempt to hide their disdain for the injured Man having the audacity to barge in on their illusion. Their posture said everything about how they felt: There was no place for him here where he might dispel their precious mirage. But for some reason (perhaps because it was early in the day), they tolerated him and said nothing... Though they looked poised to act if anything should occur which was too far outside their comfort zone... Still, they were as threatened by what was taking place as they were threatening.

I knew their eyes were fixed on us as I went over to the Man. Their stare was incredibly penetrating. To even know it was at my back was nearly paralyzing. It weakened me to move or to speak to this person with them there, but somehow I did just that. The man was ready to crumple in pain and delirium. Even his blinking was labored. I said, "You need to lay down over here," and motioned to a clear spot on the floor between the stage and the door. He made his way to the place and I helped him to lie down. I don't know why I knew what to do next - there was no precedent for that within my dream, and the Executives didn't know either... But I knelt over him and placed my hands on either side of the wound, and I began to apply pressure starting at the top and working toward the bottom. As I did, a sickening puss began to emerge from the gash. It was thick and yellow, and it quickly began to get all over the floor. I felt the penetrating stare of the Executives grow in intensity behind me, and I cowered a bit beneath their looming contempt... But I didn't stop. The Man winced with both pain and the faint glimmer of relief, and I winced too.

And then something even more bizarre started to happen. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the Infection was now coming out of me as well. I don't know from where exactly - I just saw a small flow of it gathering around my shoe. My first reaction was fear, because the hostility and repulsion behind me continued to swell even more. Now I was implicated. I wasn't just helping the Man, I was somehow like the Man, and thus worthy of the full measure of scorn and derision. I felt completely exposed and entirely vulnerable, but I managed to keep pressing. My leg began to shake with tension. I kept pressing. We both continued to drain of the Infection... And then... relief. A weight was gone. I could breathe anew. And I now had a clarity I'd never known before. 

It was done.

I realized I was thirsty. Maybe I had been for a long time. But despite there being no readily accessible water, strength began to build in me, and in the Man as well. We managed to stand up straight. He already looked dramatically better. We left the room, the Executive gaze of hatred and bewilderment behind us never pausing for a second. When we reached the front doors and the street, I told the Man that he had to get out. I told him that they would try to hurt him again. That they wouldn't want those still under their control (or still charmed by their illusion) to see what had happened. I told him the truth would not be welcome here... He agreed, and we spoke of the Coast. There would be freedom there. A refuge. Pure sunlight and cool water.

Later that day he returned. He had a small backpack packed and was ready to go. After saying goodbye, he trotted off down the street and into the unknown. For some reason, it wasn't until then that I realized I would have to leave as well. Everything we'd spoken of in regards to him applied to me as well. I had been implicated in his Infection and exposed my own. I had cared more to help him than to help the Resort continue to look shiny. The scathing scrutiny of the Executives was on me as surely as it was on him.

I prepared to leave. At this point in the dream, my wife suddenly entered the equation. (It's a dream, after all - they have their oddities and quirks.) We discussed all that was going on. She was completely on board and relieved that people were discussing the reality of things. We talked quietly. Packed quietly.

Early the next morning, while the Resort still slept from the previous night's frivolity, we were up and ready to set out. We made our way out to the street... "Wait, I need to do one more thing," I told my wife. As she stood in front of the building, I made my way through a small side alley and began to climb on top of some shelving. I found random things to hoist myself up and over and made my way to the top of the Establishment. My abiding feeling was that I needed to leave water for those who would remain behind and come to the same realizations that I had come to. From the top of the structure, I set out a tray and lined it with small, clear cups. I took out a water bottle and poured into each one. I was concerned for those still here, but I knew I couldn't force them to be ready. I pushed the tray into place on a top shelf where it would be hidden from anyone who wasn't looking for it. Before heading back down from the roof, I looked up from my perch, realizing I'd never been atop the structure before. I'd never had the desire to climb up until now. But from up here, I could see with new eyes.

The new perspective was like a "twist" in a psychological thriller. I could see a great reveal of something unknown to me until that moment - that my Establishment was fitted with a frame which spread out from the top down. From a central base it divided and reached in each direction, its fingers stretched like a cage. Everything built within the structure of the Establishment had been forced to fit into this template. The cage itself was a sturdy material - it had once been a precious metal - but it had corroded and discolored with age the way copper does when left to the elements.

But it wasn't just the place I had known. All of these Establishments within the greater Resort - however varied their decor and theme - had this decaying shell in common. The frame was exactly the same, one to the next. They had all built within the same mold, and explored all the same dimensions. And this was the unspoken reality that I had never been able to pinpoint before. They were ultimately the same despite their internal presentation.

From its central position over each establishment the outstretched fingers of the common frame spread over the glass of each central atrium. I could see that whatever light was being allowed in was being hindered by the same obstructions in each place. It was casting the same shadows.

The cage defined everything Resort Street was.

I made my way down, and headed back out onto the street.

We headed for the Coast... And I woke up.

WORSHIP: THE FUNCTION VS. THE FORM

Here is one thing that surprises a lot of first time visitors to Nashville. It’s a full replica of the famous Greek temple, the Parthenon, which is left over from when Tennessee was hosting the World's Fair forever ago. Apparently, Nashville used to be well-regarded as "the Athens of the South," back in the days when it championed the very progress and higher learning it now politically dismisses at "elitist." But regardless of any ironies between past and present... A full-scale ancient temple is not something you expect to see after driving down the Nashville strip. But it's cool to check out, especially since it's not in ruins. We went when we moved out here. And we've taken some friends to see it when they visited.

The Parthenon houses a huge statue of Athena. What we'd perhaps call an "idol." It struck me, though, while looking at this ornate, 40-foot carving... I just felt confirmation of something I've sensed for a long time. It's the idea that people don't worship the FORM, but the FUNCTION of a god. We can't even process the form of Divinity – we can’t conceive of it – so instead we echo it; we echo the Way of a god in the manner by which we ourselves live. This is why the ancients had gods for every kind of commerce or lifestyle or culture. And current civilization is no different.

The way we live is indicative of what “god” means to each of us. Our hearts are found in the same place as the things we treasure.

As large as Athena may have been, I've never been able to swallow the common conception of ancient people being that in awe of a mere statue. I simply have always had a hard time imagining them literally believing it was fully mystical or divine. However glorious its composition or however assured its craftsmanship, I've thought that it would make more sense if they just held it to be a symbol for something much greater. And from what I’ve learned of religious life in that context, what I'm thinking seems to be true – at least, for most ancient people, that would seem to be the case. For a temple in ancient Greece, the worship taking place was not so much of the fashioned image, but of what the image represented. What it meant. What it stood for. The real action and weight of "worship" was of the other activities being blessed or endorsed by the temple, both inside and outside of it. And thus, when ancient people attended temple rituals and gatherings – they went to be a part of the scene, to ingest many substances (from wine, to hallucinogens, to the meat of sacrificed animals), they went to have interactions of a commercial or sexual nature, to form trade agreements, to take advantage of young children and traffic in human life, to carouse and make profitable business connections… Basically, they got together and did all the things they wanted to do anyway, excusing otherwise questionable activity by sanctifying it as “religious,”

And for them, this was all part of “worship.” Misguided, absolutely – but integrated holistically into all of their lives.

Contrary to popular opinion, they didn't go because they were so stupid they thought a statue was the end-all to their religion. Any pagan would know that mere worship of the form yields nothing. They knew that, ultimately, only the function matters. The form is an icon made to reflect the greater function. The icon is not an end in itself, and temple worship did not entail people just sitting there, praising a carved rock. The ancients’ religious views and acts of worship implied and included a way of life involving one’s place in society, view of culture, political stances, industrial ventures, treatment of other people, environmental philosophies… All of these things were integrated into “worship.” A functioning worship. So when they "worshiped before an idol," it wasn't just them bowing, saying, "Wow, this statue sure is fantastic... Wow, isn’t this stone terrific…" Rather, in the biggest and most lavish temples, full of the wealthiest and most important people, they didn't merely revere idols - they altered their minds and preyed on the weak and helpless while building their own kingdoms. Their worship exhibited actively the things they valued most in life: Greed. Excess. Gluttony. Power. Unchecked lust and aggression…

...So I'm thinking about all this and then something hits me: It is very sad and telling that - despite serving a God who is the opposite of the things mentioned above - so many people of Jesus' Way don't always realize the same thing ancient pagans did. That in vain, we attempt to be at our best and most meaningful by gathering together to “worship” the FORM of God – which remains so intangible and elusive to us – when it is the FUNCTION which should ultimately matter most. And then I realized that God understands this – God recognizes that worship is about making connections, about the transitive properties of WHAT WE DO. In fact, isn't that what God has been telling us from the very beginning? Isn't that why Jesus can say, "Peter, do you love me? Really? No seriously, you do? …Then feed my sheep." If worship is how we overflow to God our love and devotion, we need to take another long look at those famous words. “Do you love me? …Feed my sheep.” We’d also do well to examine the things Jesus says about sheep and goats, and the things we do as unto God.

As misguided as some of the ancients’ worship may have been, we can still learn from the way they engaged worship in general, and, possibly, get a little closer to God’s ideal in the process. We should be aiming closer to function and not settling for a form that we can’t pin down. Of course, it’s always humbling when we learn lessons of worship from those we consider misguided. But that’s good for us. A lot of us pride ourselves on how closed off we are to those we consider “wrong” in any way. We staunchly assert that no one who is "wrong" could ever have anything to teach us, or could live in any way that might inform the way we live. A lot of us do not allow ourselves to be challenged, and end up going through life without permitting ourselves to change – thinking we’ve already arrived – as though we have something to prove to God. We’re too often too set in our ways, and too often unteachable... And yet God is always trying to talk to us, however we might be reached, and in many diverse ways.

Now, I say all this as a long-time "worship leader." One who is feeling the paradigm shift inside, feeling God transform his desire for how to accomplish real and true worship. I have been feeling that shift for some time - years, in fact. I have been coming to grips with the reality of how my own music might take shape, how it might function for this purpose, and how the rest of me might take shape in all that I feel, think, say and do. And I've had to ask the question, "How can I use who I am and what I do to best worship God now?" And the answer has come, "Worship will be accomplished as you saturate your aim with doing as God does - not just calling out to a vague notion of God's form, but joining in God's function. Live in this way, letting all you do be marked with love, mercy, compassion, honesty, truth, beauty, freedom..."

This is a timely realization for me.

The church has essentially commoditized "worship" into the ground, strangling it with the passionless hands of Industry. A bit over ten years ago, worship music became synonymous with Christian Pop. Now, a decade later, the consumer-machine has mostly run its course with this trend. Worship leader rock stars have made a lot of greedy people a lot of money, and now the hysteria is dying down. But while the “worship boom” as a “movement” shows signs of exhaustion, we once again face the reality that our flavor of the moment is not the answer. Once again, we’re forced to look at the entirety of our holistic selves to examine whether or not our lives are pleasing to the Divine – whether or not they are marked by “worship.” We used to sing a Matt Redman song which began, "When the music fades / all is stripped away / and I simply come / longing just to bring / something that's of worth / that will bless Your heart..." For as many people as I've seen passionately sing that song with abandon, I've seen far fewer of those same people who actually attempt to live in the truth it dances with. Here we are today - the music is absolutely fading - and where does that leave us? Is worship like theater or print, where it can be pronounced dead? Can real worship actually become obsolete? ...Or did it never fit in the tidy compartment of "congregational singalong" to begin with? 

The tough part to just come out and say is that it's almost eerie to consider how misguided so much of Christian worship is, aiming merely to drum up emotion towards the FORM of God even as we imperfectly describe it, when any worshiper (Christian or Pagan or Jedi) should know – worship is ultimately in the FUNCTION: God's activity informing and inspiring ours. Worship is practical in its transcendence. Worship is holistic in its spirit. It’s integrated. It’s real. It’s who we are. Not just something we leave compartments to do. Who we are. All the time. Existence itself... In that sense, I wish that our idea of worshiping God in song featured less focus on trying to sing AT God and more of a focus on the idea that we're joining God in the song God is singing.

Are we marked by a real, FUNCTIONAL lifestyle of worship? Or have we just scheduled routine moments in which we embrace the FORM of a small shadow of it?

Now, of course, I must say I am not AGAINST singing together. And obviously, “worship” would include our singing out to God, since singing and music are a big part of what it means to be human. It would include our singing to one another of the wonders of God as well. Worship would include those things. Of course it would. We’d never disagree with that or question its place – there is certainly room (and reason) for the church to be singing together. I’d never minimize that.

The problem, though, is apparent in that for many of us, singing is ALL that worship means. When we begin a gathering with “worship,” we know we’re referring to music. When we go to a church conference focused on “worship,” the conference will be focused on playing and singing in groups. And on (and on) we could go with examples. It’s as though, when we hear the word “worship,” some synapse in our brain fires and translates the term for us. We hear “worship” and we interpret “singing.” And as much as we’d never minimize the music we make together, this is a problem. It’s a problem because worship is so much more than that. And it deserves so much more than that. Our definition of “worship” is small and limiting. Worship is not singing. Singing can be worship, but worship is not singing… And if this is the case, how might we better define worship? I’d suggest something like this:

Worship is… A LIFE… REFLECTING… GOD. It’s what God’s creation looks like when it’s basking in God’s light. It is any part of the universe communicating God’s nature, will or purpose. It’s God’s character on display in God’s artistry…And for us in particular, worship is a life reflecting God.

It’s not just singing. It’s broad and beautiful. It’s an endless exploration. And consider, when many of us get to thinking, “So like, Heaven will be really boring if all we do is sing at God all the time, right?” We’re selling the eternal kingdom far, far short of its glory. If all we ever did was the same exact thing, it would be boring. Thankfully, God is far more creative and empowering than that. God’s delight is in engaging and involving people in what God is accomplishing. And God is in the habit of receiving worship in this way.

I’d suggest that worship is such an expansive and mystical pursuit that we’ll never run out of ways to take part in it. When we worship, we join in the dance of God. On an eternal plane, this dance will never lose its mystery or its beauty. It will be forever, infinitely awesome.

Consider: At our worst, we are worshiping the form of our worship itself. At our best we are functioning constantly in a worshipful capacity, being saturated by God’s purpose, and doing only the things we were created to do.

And even now, we could see much more as “worship” than we do. We could take on much more with the mindset of “worship” than we do.

- There is worship in delighting in the natural world, enjoying the splendor of the universe – from the smallest creature to the grandest solar system.

- There is worship in appreciating beautiful things – from any form of art, to the personalities of those you encounter.

- There is worship in creating things and exploring creative passions.

- There is worship in serving others.

- There is worship in an act of love.

- There is worship in any action of selflessness, compassion, mercy, community, generosity, sacrifice, etc.

- There is worship in making peace, bringing comfort, enacting justice or ministering healing. 

- There is worship in “doing as God does” in anything we’ve been called to join God in doing.

- There is worship in any instance our lives reflect God. 

To a follower of God in the Way of Jesus, worship… is… life. When a person’s being reflects God’s Divine light, worship is taking place. As Romans 12 has always said (and I’ll paraphrase), “So, brothers and sisters, since you see life through the lens of God’s merciful way of being, you should offer up all that you are in response – your entire self as a living sacrifice – which is holy, as in set apart for purpose (and absolutely delightful to God, by the way), because this is the core of your spirituality, your way of being marked by worship.”

So I’ve been thinking…

The ancient Greeks and Romans went to a temple and did as the gods did. This was “worship.” They joined in the function. They partied. But modern Christians go to a church building and attempt to drum up the most emotional response toward an intangible form, and then we get confused and saddened when it doesn’t stir us or fails to connect... So even our “worship” becomes a selfish fix – part of an ongoing religious routine. And because of our conditioning and tradition, we end up missing what we should already know intrinsically – that real worship is primarily about function. Our God is spirit, and even our best descriptions, even our best poetry, falls vastly short of capturing God's form. To worship God in the temple, we should be doing as the prophets have always said in showing mercy to one another and releasing every yoke of bondage and oppression. This function of joining God's dance would be a great expression of "worship." It would even be a primary one.

And because God’s temple is not a building but a people, how much more should worship be everything that we are and all of life? Not a compartment for singing, but a core reality which awakens us to enjoying and experiencing God in EVERYTHING.

Like I've said so many times, now I can see more clearly from a different angle – The scripture Jesus' quoted most, "I desire mercy and not sacrifice." …Mercy is what God's doing. It's the function, the purpose, the direction… But then there are the elements which make up much of our gathering together. The religious rites and events we try to prop up in mercy's place, those things which are but a shadow, an imperfect form. 

God’s people have always had a history of this very thing – giving primary attention to the things God would say are secondary, and eventually losing track of the most important things. The book of Isaiah deals primarily with this theme: God telling his people, “You gather. You posture. You fast. You sing… but then you are selfish, rude, uncaring, exploiting, and oppressive to one another. How can I hear your prayers when you are so far from my will, my nature? If you choose religious routines over walking in intimate relationship with me and others, I am not impressed. I am not pleased with you setting yourself a quota and motivating yourself through guilt. That’s selfish too. If you were in my embrace, you’d have joy and empowering to shine. You’d be motivated by love, which is Divine. If even your spirituality is all about you, something is off.” 

Worship is not contained in our limited forms, or in our crying out to a form. It’s ultimately in our function – the entirety of our lives, everything that we are and exist to be and do.

I suppose that to attempt primarily worshiping God outside of the realm of function could ultimately prove as misguided as just bowing down to a statue. And if that's the case, our "worship" itself becomes idolatry. Without function, that form is cheap and meaningless. Without function, worship is left to our best guess at an object, rather than our joining in the subject (and WITH the Subject) of the Great Story.