When I first attended an Anglican church, I immediately noticed how the congregation actively participated in worship by praying out loud at various points in the service. One prayer, the Collect for Purity, captivated my imagination and remains one of my favorite prayers of all time:
"Almighty God, to you all hearts are open, all desires known, and from you no secrets are hid: Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love you, and worthily magnify your holy Name; through Christ our Lord. Amen."
What I love about the Collect for Purity is that I can pray it at any time regardless of my feelings. I can say this prayer whenever I am angry, happy, sad, frustrated, or numb. It reminds me that God knows the depth of my thoughts and my emotions even when I don’t fully understand them myself. God daily invites me to experience his love regardless of how I am feeling, so I can honestly present myself to God even in the moments that I am emotionally confused.
As someone who was raised in a charismatic, non-denominational church, I was taught that emotions played an important role within Christian worship. Over time, I became disenchanted with certain worship styles and songs because of how they appealed to my emotions in a way that felt disingenuous. I saw how pastors and worship leaders deemed worship to be “successful” or “powerful” based upon how the congregation would publicly react to the lyrics or the style of the music. This form of worship sometimes felt emotionally vacuous and shallow; at its worst, it felt emotionally manipulative.
I later had the opportunity to study theology in a variety of academic settings. While I appreciated how my studies deepened my knowledge of God, I noticed that my knowledge did not always translate into deeper intimacy or love of God. Instead of leading me towards personal holiness, sometimes my knowledge of God led me towards arrogance and pride in my theology. This was especially a problem for me in seminary, and it was by God’s grace that I did not become a jerk theologian who ruined good parties (aka the dreaded "theobro.")
One of the gifts of our Anglican tradition is the way that our liturgy stewards our emotions. Instead of trying to manipulate our emotions or sacrifice them on the altar of intellectualism, we acknowledge our internal “desires” before God and pray that they be aligned with God’s heart. In the liturgy, we hear the gospel story and allow it to be a balm for our souls through its intentional structure. The liturgy in itself is a form of gospel proclamation, and it really doesn't need much else to make the gospel "stand out."
My responsibility as the Worship Pastor is to ensure that our musical worship supports the liturgy’s goal of proclaiming the gospel without any other personal agenda or goal. I am trying to make sure that our music, as it is particularly expressed within the context of our congregation, “preaches” the gospel each Sunday. No instrumentation, musical style, lyric, or talent can change the emotions or desires of our hearts. If there is any “power” in our church’s music, it is only by its proclamation of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
It has been a joy and privilege to work with our musicians Sunday after Sunday here at Incarnation. God has blessed us with so many talented musicians, and it has been so much fun to join other people in singing songs, planning musical arrangements, and leading the congregation in singing the gospel.
But what impresses me more than just the quality (and quantity!) of our musicians is the way that our musicians point people to Jesus through their personal relationships. No one is hiding in a “green room” between services nor is anyone trying to write the next big song that will lead the CCM charts. Our musicians are pretty down-to-earth people who simply, and without much fanfare, offer their talents to bless our church. This is a rare and precious gift, and it is sadly becoming more rare in a church culture that values production, programs, and influence rather than gospel proclamation through personal relationships.
My prayer for Incarnation is that we would continue to be a church who proclaims Jesus in all the aspects of our life together. May we always proclaim Jesus in our liturgy, preaching, bread-breaking, and all the other ways we practice ordinary faithfulness both on Sundays and throughout the week.
And I pray that this would remain true of us especially in our music.
Your fellow worshipper,
Russell Vick
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