CCBlogs thinking critically, living faithfully

Reading Brett McCracken’s Hipster Christianity piqued my interest in how to refrain from making worship “cool.” It’s a temptation that we all fall into, as worship has suddenly become something that is commodified and has a market value. The fact that people may pay $30-40 to go worship with a cool worship band as opposed to a free worship band (e.g. the one at your church) has created a whole new value for worship. The worship of God, at least in the American church, now has a monetary and cultural value, and with value comes the “cool” factor.  Worship has become branded with bands like people buy brand name clothes. I wanted to hear from Brett on this issue, so we sat down at our respective computers and had a chat about it.

Thomas: So, after reading your book it really got me thinking about hipster Christianity and worship, because for me as a creative person who coordinates some of the liturgy for the church I attend I have notions about how to frame worship, mostly from an ancient-future perspective. It made me wonder about the whole advent of CCM that came about because of the Jesus Movement, and how our worship is a cultural response, not just a spiritual response.

Brett: Yeah, totally.

Thomas: So, I guess my first question is, how do you see cool/hip influence worship in the church today?

Brett: Well, I think a lot of it has to do with what you just said about the “cultural response vs. spiritual response” shift that happened when “Christian music” became an industry that tried to compete with, or at least copy, the styles of the broader world. The emphasis on worship music in the church thus began a shift in the “seeker-sensitive” direction—away from hymns and songs full of complicated theology or difficult-to-sing harmonies, etc.—toward a more simple chords, simply lyrics, path-of-least resistance approach. It became this thing that could be used to attract people to the church, to get them in the door. Worship music in the church became something that was asked to “do” rather than just “be,” if that makes any sense.

In terms of cool/hip specifically, I think they influence the music greatly.  When you get in this mindset of “what does the audience want to hear?” then you begin to select music that is “on trend” and reflective of what is cool at the moment. Basically, it makes the music much more disposable and quickly replaceable. It’s all about “what’s next.” Songs sung a few years ago like “God of Wonders” are hardly ever sung these days, because it’s passe to be singing something that was trendy 8 years ago.

Thomas: Yeah, worship seems to have this trickle down effect where worship music is on a delay. David Crowder listens to Sufjan Stevens, then covers a song, then it gets picked up by worship leaders, then people worship to it.

Brett: Right.

Thomas: Meanwhile Sufjan’s put out another album by then, and no one who worships to “O God Where Are You Now?” even knows who he is.

Brett: [Laughing] yeah. This is one of the problems with a “what is cool”-based methodology of worship music. It’s always behind trend. As long as you are actively trying to be with the trends, you’ll always be reactive and not proactive. So, a better route I think is to be trying to innovate and create new things, rather than reacting to or chasing after that which is deemed trendy or cool at the moment.

Thomas: So, culture making, in other words?

Brett: Definitely.

Thomas: What do you think people involved in the worship practice of a church need to learn or unlearn when it comes to how we let culture affect our worship?

Brett: I think we need to attempt to shift our focus away from a utilitarian view of music in worship that looks at music in this cause-effect model (some call it the “hammer approach”). The cause-effect model wants music to be this “performance” that somehow attracts outsiders. Rather, I think we should look at worship more as a “window into heaven” or just a reflection of what the saints are called to do: worship God. It should be less about what’s cool and more about “is this praising God?” I think we need to stop worrying so much about whether the congregation is liking it or enjoying it (though to some extent we must think of this) and more about whether it is turning us toward God and the cross.

Thomas: I think that’s a good way to put it. An example from my own church: there is an Armenian family at our church and one of their sons played the doumbek, and Armenian instrument in church one day. It was a bit out of place, a rock band and some Armenian percussion, but I look back on that and wonder why are we stuck in rock band mold? Should we begin to let the church community shape worship in unexpected ways?

Brett: Oh, definitely. I am always wondering to myself when I go to evangelical churches across the country: “Why am I only seeing this homogeneous, 5-piece U2-esque electric guitar sound?” Why are we only singing these soaring, emotional, me-centered Hillsong anthems? Can’t we do better than this, experiment with our own home-grown talents, explore the rich hymns of yesteryear in new and interesting ways?”

It’s strange to me that we’ve sort of landed on this very specific “rock band mold” as you put it. Why did we land here, and why is our conception of contemporary worship music so narrow?

Thomas: I think part of it is that copying is the destroyer of creativity. We go to conferences to copy successful churches, we listen to certain musicians to copy successful music, and we read certain books to copy successful theology. We don’t care about the local or genuine, we just care about the success. What ways do you see to bring creativity back into the church?

Brett: Well, one of the things I talk about in the book is the need for pastors and church leaders to come to a more honest understanding of what they like and why they like it. I think we need to evaluate and train our tastes, so that we can have a more mature, developed sense of appreciating art and culture rather than just “trying to like” what the populace says should be liked. So, instead of saying “the kids love such-and-such worship style; I want our band to try to play songs in that style,” I think a pastor or worship leader should say: “Hey band members, what music moves and inspires us as creative people? What do we like to create and perform?” I think we need to put more of an emphasis ourselves as artists rather than as hired hands meant to give the audience what it wants. Not that I think we should be narcissistic or anything, just that perhaps we should be more personal and honest about the whole process by emphasizing vision, innovation and creativity.

Some of the best church worship music I saw on my church research trips were the ones that really seemed to be organic and true to their own congregation’s tastes and talents. At Resurrection Presbyterian in Brookyln (the church pastored by The Welcome Wagon guy, Vito Aiuto), the music was of the same low-fi folk, hymns-on-banjo style of the whole Sufjan Brooklyn community. Another good example I would say is Mars Hill in Seattle. They have different bands play at their different campuses, and they are all just organic, self-made bands that have widely variant styles (math-rock, hard-rock, acoustic, etc..). They were sort of given free reign to create experimental worship music, often covering hymns in their own distinct styles.

Thomas: Music is so important to set the tone for a creative church, because a church can then embody the music instead of being spectators before a band. Pushing it further, how then do you see the worship music intersecting with the other elements of worship like preaching, prayer, and communion?

Brett: I think all of those elements are “worship,” and should (ideally) be integrated in some sort of cohesive way. The music we sing should interact with the preaching topic, the prayers being offered, etc. I’m a big fan of churches that are mindful of the church calendar, playing music and reading prayers that are specific to the church season (Lent, Advent, Easter, Pentecost, etc.). I think in general it’s just better to be more thoughtful in picking out music that reflects the other worship elements in a service, both in musical tone and lyrical content.

Thomas: Last question: in your book you implore Christians to be counter-cultural, but not necessarily “cool.” How can worship become counter-cultural?

Brett: Great question. I think being counter-cultural in worship just means being fiercely devoted to who God is and the fact that he is God and I am not. It means being passionately deferential and active in the constant, probing process of meditating on—and responding to through our own creative means—the attributes of God. It means caring little for whether or not we are “on trend” but caring instead that we are facilitating a culture that is honestly, creatively seeking God through its worship praxis. But also, and I think this is important to remember, it means that we rightly understand the broader universal church and seek unity and diversity through it whenever we can. This means that we find a balance between the local (our own individual culture of worship) and the global (the “common songs” and universal liturgies that bind us together as Christians). It means we have to fight against our western obsession with individualism and “what I want” and sometimes put the community above ourselves. We are Christians in community, and our worship should reflect collaboration and unity.

You can read my review of Brett’s new book Hipster Christianity here.

If you don’t know whether you’re a Christian hipster or not, you can take a quiz on the Hipster Christianity website.

The theological systems of believer’s baptism and infant baptism seem to conflict in irreconcilable ways. The theological implications of infant baptism are too much, too soon for those who favor believer’s baptism, while those who practice believer’s baptism can appear to focus too much on a person’s decision to join God’s family and not on God’s action toward the person since they were born.

Navigating the waters between the two views, as I have in both study and my own spiritual journey, has been a confusing and divisive experience: baptism is a divisive issue, and it’s a deal breaker for many churches in how they accept leaders into their community. The mutually exclusive views on baptism can cause headaches when people move from one church or denomination to another; indeed, one only has to read On Plymouth Plantation to realize that baptism has caused division within American Christianity since Europeans landed in the New World.

But I do not think this necessarily has to be so. I believe there can be diversity in baptism amongst denominations and even the local church. That may seem naive, stupid, or counter-intuitive, but in a post-Christian world, when so many local churches are made up of a rich tapestry of spiritual and theological traditions, this is not a pipe dream or wishful fancy. I believe thinking about theological diversity within the local church will become a necessity of the church in the post-Christian era.

When the local church focuses on baptism as part of the spiritual journey of Christian discipleship, and not as an isolated “event,” both systems can function within the structure of discipleship within the church. This requires the church to have mapped out the important steps in a disciple’s life:

• Ministry of Others
• Entrance into the community
• Elementary Discipleship
• Confession of Faith
• Continuing Discipleship
• Public Profession of Faith
• Advanced Discipleship

When the church focuses on discipleship, baptism becomes a part of the Great Commission to make disciples of all nations. This track for discipleship that I laid out above can be used by the local church as a path of discipleship that allows for a diversity in baptism.

For parents who choose to infant baptize or had their infant baptized prior to joining the church they fulfill the first two steps on the above path. The parents have ministered to their child through bringing them forward for baptism, which marks their entrance into the church community. Then the local church disciples the child through children’s church and Sunday School, until the child makes a confession of faith (their conversion experience). When a child begins to own their faith they continue discipleship  as he or she prepares for their profession of faith before the community. Once a child (now teenager or young adult) makes a profession of faith before the community that reaffirms the baptism they received at their infancy, he or she then joins in further discipleship as an adult member of the community. What has been laid out here is basically the model for confirmation in many churches, but I have placed the focus on discipleship so that it can be adapted to not just teenagers but adults as well.

This system works just as well with believer’s baptism, because the focus is not on confirmation or baptism but on discipleship. For parents in the church who choose believer’s baptism, they minister to their child as it grows, and mark its entrance into the community through baby dedication. The child then continues just like above through discipleship until he or she makes a confession of faith and begins to prepare for their public profession of faith when they are older. At the public profession of faith the child (now teenager or young adult) a baptism would then take place, so that the public professions of faith at the church would allow for either a reaffirmation of infant baptism or an adult baptism. What this system does eliminate is re-baptism, because in honoring the diversity of baptism within the church no re-baptism is necessary. Adult converts who had been baptized as infants, children or teenagers (or even as adults) would not be baptized again but to reaffirm their baptism as an act of God’s grace on their spiritual journey.

The below table illustrates how the the path of discipleship that allows for a diversity in baptism might work in a local church:

Infant Baptism

Believer’s Baptism Ministry of Parents

Ministry of Others

Ministry of Community/Parents

Baptism

Entrance into the Community

Dedication

Sunday School/The Home

Elementary Discipleship

Sunday School/The Home

Ownership of Faith

Confession of Faith

Ownership of Faith

Basics of Christianity

Continuing Discipleship

Basics of Christianity

Confirmation

Public Profession of Faith

Confirmation & Baptism

Continuing Growth in Faith

Advanced Discipleship

Continuing Growth in Faith

This system of discipleship, also easily allows the integration of adult converts through the ministry and discipleship of others, where they would then be integrated into the community in much the same manner as the children and young adults are. The only difference to an adult would be that their entrance into the community would be more informal, a sense of belonging and an interest in service and ministry, and the formal entrance would be at their public profession of faith and baptism (if they had not been baptized as an infant).

We must remember that God has called us not to baptize the nations but to make disciples of all nations. That is our first and most important goal. What this focus on discipleship allows for is the opportunity for parents to make the decision for either infant baptism or believer’s baptism based on their own convictions, knowing full well that the local church that supports this model will take their charge to disciple all persons, whether big or small, baptized or unbaptized, seriously.

This is the final post in my series exploring baptism. You can find the previous posts in the series by following the links:

“Which Baptism To Choose?: My Story”
“The Case for Adult Baptism”
“The Case for Infant Baptism”
“The Problem with Adult Baptism: Where’s the discipleship?”
“The Problem with Infant Baptism: Where’s the covenant?“

I finished Brett McCracken’s forthcoming book Hipster Christianity: When Church and Cool Collide a few days ago and decided to sit on it and let it steep for a few days. I needed some time to think about what Mr. McCracken was saying and whether I agreed with it or not.

Part of the problem is that I am a Christian hipster according to McCracken’s definition, so I am suspect to a certain bias. The book made me a little angry in parts when he seemed to just stick labels onto things I hold dear, like my infatuation with sport coats and my aesthetic sensibilities. As much as I don’t want to have the label “Christian hipster” placed on me I’m listening to LCD Soundsystem’s new album as I write this and, well, that pretty much makes me a hipster. And I have a blog that discusses worship, vocation, and liturgy, so that takes care of the Christian label. But do both of those combine to make me a Christian hipster?

Yes and no.  I am a Christian hipster in the sense that my worldview of Christianity acts as a lens for my hipsterness (I rolled my eyes at characterizing myself as having hipsterness, but McCracken forces me to, so just roll your eyes with me). But being a Christian hipster is so lame, like Christian movies, Christian music, and Christian comedy. And lameness is the antithesis of hipsterness. Can I go the artist’s route and just say “I am a hipster who happens to be a Christian?” I hope so.

McCracken did not write this book as a grand pontification. It’s well researched. Very well researched. I was amazed by the research. I had no idea the history of coolness and hipness that has influenced Western civilization since the Enlightenment. McCracken did his homework.

The problem I found with the book was that I came into what McCracken defines as “Christian hipsterness” through the back door so to speak, much like I became part of the emerging church conversation by reading James K.A. Smith and not Brian McLaren, Doug Pagitt or Tony Jones. If you have to blame any one for my becoming a Christian hipster you should blame John Piper. You read that correctly: John Piper made me a Christian hipster.

I was inundated with the high arts as an honors student in college and within two years had developed a very high criticism of art. I belonged to the Francis Schaffer, J.R.R. Tolkien, Dorothy Sayers and C.S. Lewis camp of seeing creativity and creation as the chief end of man. I was turning into a snob.

Then one of my roommates gave me Piper’s book The Dangerous Duty of Delight and it simply blew me away. I could still delight in the high arts (classical music, museum art, ballet, theatre, etc.) but Piper’s writing delicately chided me to realize that those who I looked up to as cultural critics relished the simple delights of life as part of the chief end of man. Not only did I need to read and critique at old epics like C.S. Lewis did, but I also needed to learn how to delight in drinking brandy and smoking a pipe until the wee hours of the night. Piper’s book put me on a path to delight in all things as God’s gift, and to champion excellence in art, food, furniture, music, literature and so on. If I was called to delight, I was going to delight in the good.

So I began to develop what McCracken labels hipster tendencies. I stopped listening to so much pop music and got into indie rock and alt country. I stopped liking any old movie and started watching classics. I began to want to cook more than tuna or chicken salad. I wanted to drink more than Rolling Rock or Heineken. I wanted to eat more brie and less cheddar.  I wanted to delight in the best. Not because it was cool, but because it was good to delight as part of our experiential worship of God.

McCracken admits this as much, and it is the second great strength of his book. He wants us all to think. Coolness and the counter-culture can become badges of honor and status symbols if we don’t think about them. McCracken did his research, delving deep into the theory of coolness, and what we find is so much of the blatant and pathetic commercialism and capitalism that hipsters are supposed to cringe at. The whole hipster system is stuck in the very system it’s supposed to be against.

And that’s why being a Christian hipster might not be such a bad thing at all. Being a Christian gives me the privilege of already being outside the system. I don’t need the world to tell me I’m cool, because I am a citizen of the kingdom first. The opportunity found in being a Christian hipster is that we have more than coolness at stake. Writers like Andy Crouch implore us to be culture makers as Christians, and that is a call worthy of any vocation: to not just critique, to not just be hip or with it, but to actually make culture. That’s the end that McCracken points toward as well. He wants those that can be defined as Christian hipsters to be of the thinking and doing kind and not of the following and trendy kind. We should be at the forefront of culture not to be cool but to be culture makers. So here’s to my Christian hipster status, and yours as well.

———–

Hipster Christianity: When Church and Cool Collide
Brett McCracken
Baker Books
$10.87 (Amazon)

I finished Brett McCracken’s forthcoming book Hipster Christianity: When Church and Cool Collide a few days ago and decided to sit on it and let it steep for a few days. I needed some time to think about what Mr. McCracken was saying and whether I agreed with it or not.

Part of the problem is that I am a Christian hipster according to McCracken’s definition, so I am suspect to a certain bias. The book made me a little angry in parts when he seemed to just stick labels onto things I hold dear, like my infatuation with sport coats and my aesthetic sensibilities. As much as I don’t want to have the label “Christian hipster” placed on me I’m listening to LCD Soundsystem’s new album as I write this and, well, that pretty much makes me a hipster. And I have a blog that discusses worship, vocation, and liturgy, so that takes care of the Christian label. But do both of those combine to make me a Christian hipster?

Yes and no.  I am a Christian hipster in the sense that my worldview of Christianity acts as a lens for my hipsterness (I rolled my eyes at characterizing myself as having hipsterness, but McCracken forces me to, so just roll your eyes with me). But being a Christian hipster is so lame, like Christian movies, Christian music, and Christian comedy. And lameness is the antithesis of hipsterness. Can I go the artist’s route and just say “I am a hipster who happens to be a Christian?” I hope so.

McCracken did not write this book as a grand pontification. It’s well researched. Very well researched. I was amazed by the research. I had no idea the history of coolness and hipness that has influenced Western civilization since the Enlightenment. McCracken did his homework.

The problem I found with the book was that I came into what McCracken defines as “Christian hipsterness” through the back door so to speak, much like I became part of the emerging church conversation by reading James K.A. Smith and not Brian McLaren, Doug Pagitt or Tony Jones. If you have to blame any one for my becoming a Christian hipster you should blame John Piper. You read that correctly: John Piper made me a Christian hipster.

I was inundated with the high arts as an honors student in college and within two years had developed a very high criticism of art. I belonged to the Francis Schaffer, J.R.R. Tolkien, Dorothy Sayers and C.S. Lewis camp of seeing creativity and creation as the chief end of man. I was turning into a snob.

Then one of my roommates gave me Piper’s book The Dangerous Duty of Delight and it simply blew me away. I could still delight in the high arts (classical music, museum art, ballet, theatre, etc.) but Piper’s writing delicately chided me to realize that those who I looked up to as cultural critics relished the simple delights of life as part of the chief end of man. Not only did I need to read and critique at old epics like C.S. Lewis did, but I also needed to learn how to delight in drinking brandy and smoking a pipe until the wee hours of the night. Piper’s book put me on a path to delight in all things as God’s gift, and to champion excellence in art, food, furniture, music, literature and so on. If I was called to delight, I was going to delight in the good.

So I began to develop what McCracken labels hipster tendencies. I stopped listening to so much pop music and got into indie rock and alt country. I stopped liking any old movie and started watching classics. I began to want to cook more than tuna or chicken salad. I wanted to drink more than Rolling Rock or Heineken. I wanted to eat more brie and less cheddar.  I wanted to delight in the best. Not because it was cool, but because it was good to delight as part of our experiential worship of God.

McCracken admits this as much, and it is the second great strength of his book. He wants us all to think. Coolness and the counter-culture can become badges of honor and status symbols if we don’t think about them. McCracken did his research, delving deep into the theory of coolness, and what we find is so much of the blatant and pathetic commercialism and capitalism that hipsters are supposed to cringe at. The whole hipster system is stuck in the very system it’s supposed to be against.

And that’s why being a Christian hipster might not be such a bad thing at all. Being a Christian gives me the privilege of already being outside the system. I don’t need the world to tell me I’m cool, because I am a citizen of the kingdom first. The opportunity found in being a Christian hipster is that we have more than coolness at stake. Writers like Andy Crouch implore us to be culture makers as Christians, and that is a call worthy of any vocation: to not just critique, to not just be hip or with it, but to actually make culture. That’s the end that McCracken points toward as well. He wants those that can be defined as Christian hipsters to be of the thinking and doing kind and not of the following and trendy kind. We should be at the forefront of culture not to be cool but to be culture makers. So here’s to my Christian hipster status, and yours as well.

———–

Hipster Christianity: When Church and Cool Collide
Brett McCracken
Baker Books
$10.87 (Amazon)

In my previous “problem” post I discussed that the problem with adult or believer’s baptism was a lack of discipleship that has led to the majority of believer’s baptisms in America to be rebaptisms. As this series on baptism (previous posts 1, 2, 3, 4) continues toward what I have formulated as a third way on baptism I want to first highlight the problem I see today in the contemporary system of infant baptism.

I was baptized as an infant, and I think it is a beautiful and sacred act. It’s a sign of God’s providence and work in a persons life, since no infant can be active in their own baptism but must rely on God’s action of grace in their life.

Infant baptism, generally speaking, signifies the new covenant that Christ has confirmed with his death and resurrection. Just as circumcision is an outward sign of God’s covenant with the Jewish people, so to is infant baptism an outward sign of God’s new covenant with the church, his kingdom.

The problem with infant baptism is that the covenant is being misunderstood. Covenant is far too often misinterpreted as an agreement, like a legal contract. It is far more encompassing than that. Covenant means story. When an infant is baptized they are not just being initiated into a future faith agreement with Christ. They are being invited into the very narrative of God. That’s a powerful sign.

Unfortunately, it’s a sign that has lost its significance. The traditional trajectory of discipleship in churches that practice infant baptism is that the children grow in faith and then are confirmed into the church as adult members. This a proper and holistic view of discipleship, but one doesn’t need to go to statistics to realize that in most churches this does not happen. Instead, confirmation, just like believer’s baptism, is treated like a spiritual plateau. It’s a graduation of sorts, giving young people a certificate that they have arrived. There’s often not a message present in the local church that confirmation is just a step on the spiritual journey. Confirmation is too often treated as the end point for a journey started at baptism.

When an infant is baptized they are invited to participate in God’s story, first through the leading of their parents and the church community, and later through taking ownership of their faith and becoming an integral part of the church community. There is a disconnect between beginning in God’s story and taking ownership for your place in God’s story, and it is akin to the discipleship problem experienced in churches that practice adult-only baptism.

The problem of infant baptism will only begin to be renewed when the family and church communities take a long-view of the spiritual journey, and not just see the journey stop at confirmation. Infant baptism is an invitation into a lifetime journey within God’s story and participation in the kingdom of God. That is a high call, first placed on the parents and then transferred to children as they gradually take ownership of their faith, a faith that lasts a lifetime, not just until confirmation.

My wife and I were driving to go get some ice cream last night when we saw a bumper sticker that started a conversation about Christ’s role in our lives. The bumper sticker read: “Elect Christ as King of Your Life.” “How do you elect a king?” my wife asked….

The Hold Steady have a final song on one of their albums called “How A Resurrection Really Feels” about an in-breaking of spiritual resurrection during an Easter service when a strung out prostitute seeking forgiveness. She asks the priest if she can tell the congregation “How a resurrection really feels.” I think someone needs to start going around like this lady and telling congregations how kingship really feels, because it certainly doesn’t feel like an election.

That bumper sticker is a pithy statement for how we all too often think about Christ’s role in our lives, in our churches, in the world. Much of American Christianity bombards us with the idea that we need to choose Christ, like its an election. Hate to break it to you all but this isn’t and never will be an election. We don’t choose Christ like we choose a president. Quite frankly, we don’t have that option. With elections come term limits, impeachments, and voting out incumbents. You can’t elect a king. A king, like a diamond, is forever. We don’t make the choice. We’re stuck with it.

And we’re supposed to be stuck with it. We’re supposed to be stuck with a king. When Paul writes about Christ’s lordship over us it is not something you put on and off. He never talks about taking off the armor of Christ after you’ve put it on. We can’t undo Christ’s presence in our life like a disgruntled electorate during midterm elections, stamping on the incumbent so we can get some fresh blood we can turn on later into the senate chambers. This is not a kingship! A king is unable to be cast off. We cannot elect a king. We can only become citizens of his kingdom. It’s an in or out type of thing. There are no passports out of the kingdom of heaven. No ways to find a new king, for a king is replaced only when they die. And though we all may doubt it sometimes, our king lives forever. He has conquered death and sin. We cannot elect him to that role. He was chosen, and we must follow and obey as subjects. Because that’s how a kingship really feels.

It is important when discussing the problem with adult baptism or infant baptism to first and foremost realize that baptism does not happen in a vacuum. Whether a church practices adult or infant baptism, the baptismal event is one part of a larger system of discipleship that a church community follows. Churches that practice adult baptism in a general take a believe and belong approach. Before you are baptized you make a statement of faith that testifies to your belief, and only then are you a member of the body of Christ. The problem inherent in this way of doing things, especially within our American context, is that churches that have the tradition of adult baptism have become lackadaisical in their discipleship of new believers. Its very easy to have someone stand before a community and profess faith—it becomes much harder to bring that person to a point where they belong to the community and contribute to other’s discipleship. This is a symptom of the dichotomy that is infused into the modern practice of adult baptism: there are non-believers, then believers. In effect, when a person is baptized we are implicitly telling them that they have plateaued in their spiritual journey. They have arrived at the top, and the only place to go is down.

And down they go. There is no greater evidence of the problem with our modern version of adult baptism than the number of people who are re-baptized under the believer’s baptism model. This is a hard pill to swallow for churches that hold dear to believer’s baptism, but the problem has become too large to ignore. To use the Southern Baptist Convention as an example of the typical believer’s baptism church or denomination, 60% of believer’s baptisms today are not initial baptisms, they are rebaptisms (also here), and the vast majority of those rebaptisms, 36%, are of adults who were previously baptized as adults (not infants or children). The whole system of believer’s baptism hinges on the argument that infants or young children are not capable of testifying to their faith in Christ, yet the number one reason cited for rebaptism is “because the candidates feels they “had not been regenerate believers when they were first baptized.” The act of rebaptism should never, ever be taken lightly, because this is not a baptism of man (like John the Baptist) but the baptism of Christ and the sealing of the Holy Spirit we are dealing with here. The vast majority of believer’s baptism churches now practice rebaptism (for sin, for backsliding, for re-affirmation, for overt spiritual growth, etc.) more than they baptize new believers as a testimony to the power of Christ’s gospel. This is a very bad, and spiritually dark situation we find ourselves in.

I am of the opinion that the system of believer’s baptism works within communities that practice it well, as is written about Baptist churches in other countries. What needs to happen within the American context of adult baptism is a renewal of holistic discipleship which views the sacrament/ordinance of baptism as the commencement of a lifelong journey of faith. Somewhat ironically, I think the person who writes best about this concept is the Anglican N.T. Wright, when he implores us to understand that “the ‘good news’ of the Christian gospel is that…this new creation, has already begun: it began when Jesus of Nazareth rose from the dead on Easter morning, having faced and beaten the double enemy, sin and death, that has corrupted and defaced God’s lovely creation.” In order to recapture the intent of believer’s baptism, churches have to remember that the core of the gospel is not just the cause but also the effect. When we give testimony at our baptism and say “Jesus is Lord” we are not just submitting a fact for review, we are testifying to a paradigm shift in our entire life and in the entire cosmos; in other words, we are saying Christ has begun the new creation and we are now baptized into it.

The believe then belong approach must take discipleship seriously, or it will continue to be a place of perpetual belief with no belonging: an endless cycle of rebaptisms where no discipleship takes place between spiritual epiphanies. Believer’s baptism can be a beautiful event, especially within a church that takes discipleship seriously. Let our hope and prayer be that our churches that practice believer’s baptism re-discover the purpose and intent of baptism and the spiritual weight of Christ’s new creation: that baptism is a one time entrance into the new creation.

The Curator Magazine published my article on acedia today (link).  An excerpt:

Once, after feeling awful for a few days but not thinking it was the flu, I sat up in bed, my stomach churning, my whole torso in pain, and asked my wife to look up the symptoms of appendicitis because I believed I had it. My wife went to WebMD, typed in appendicitis, and rattled off my symptoms one by one. I got dressed and we headed off to the hospital.

I had a similar experience when I read Kathleen Norris’s excellent memoir, Acedia & Me, about six months ago….

You can read the rest here.

I wrote in my prayer journal last week: “The God of majesty is our God. Not mine, not yours, but ours.”

I think when we worship or pray our flesh leads us to subtly twist the words “our God” to be a sign of division, as in he is mine, not yours, or he is ours, not yours. We begin to tug on God like he is a teddy bear between two spoiled children, or like a narcissistic brat. And that is no way to think of our God. To declare “our God” in worship is to dispossess him, to say he is not ruled, he is not divisible, he is not a token or idol. He is not our trophy to place on the mantle and say look at “our God” like one would point out a painting.

We must learn that the more we dispossess God, the more we teach ourselves that God is beyond our grasp, the more we will feel that he possesses us.

I had a discussion with my father a few weeks back when he told me he had read this book called The Reason for God by Tim Keller that articulated many of the ideas I had expounded over the past couple of years. My dad said that it was really helpful for someone from his generation to convey the types of things that people of my generation hold as integral to our faith: social justice, the politics of the Kingdom, and an apologetic of action more so than intellect.

I have wanted to read Tim Keller for a while now, having heard many good things about his church in New York City. I was deeply impressed by the prospect for belief in an age of skepticism that Keller outlines in this book. So many books masquerade belief as fact—Keller has stayed the course, first paved by N.T. Wright, of presenting a hopeful understanding of belief that is rooted in Christ and his message to the world instead of a belief in proofs of Christ’s existence and work. At its core, belief in an age of skepticism can never pretend to be a bastion of encyclopedic fact: we must come to a reasoned belief that is a third way between the Bible thumping fundamentalists and the Darwin thumping New Atheists. I recommend this book for anyone who wants to take a humble look at Christian belief.

In my previous post I summarized the main points in the case for adult baptism. Now that I have laid those out, I would like to sketch out the case for infant baptism, as understanding both sides will help us navigate the question: how should the Church practice baptism in a post-Christian context?

Infant baptism is the mode of baptism that is practiced in Catholic, Orthodox and Protestant traditions, with only those that consider themselves Baptist, Evangelical, Pentecostal or Charismatic rejecting this mode of baptism. Those who argue for “believer’s baptism” view baptism as a personal proclamation of their faith in Jesus Christ.  Most of the time this is viewing baptism as non-sacramental, meaning nothing divine happens at baptism, it is just something to do, which they would call an ordinance. Infant baptism is a sacramental view. The difference between these two views is the focus of the baptismal event: is baptism centered on the action of the person, as in believer’s baptism, or on God, as in infant baptism.

The case for infant baptism begins with the covenant of God. Without wading into a theological quagmire of Reformed versus Dispensational theology, it is best to view infant and adult baptism in terms of God’s relationship to the believer before the act of baptism. The theological underpinnings of infant baptism, as will be shown, make the strongest case for the baptism of infants.

First though, let us look to the Scriptures. There is no directive for adult or believer’s baptism only in the Scriptures. The same goes for infant baptism. What can be read from the silence is an openness to baptism as a communal act though, and not just a personal proclamation, as adult baptism proponents would argue.  At Pentecost, Peter issued a call to repentance that included the children of those who would repent and be baptized:

Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off—for all whom the Lord our God will call. (Acts 2:38-39, TNIV)

Next, both Luke and Paul infer the baptism of infants and children when they speak of the baptism of entire households once the heads of house have come to faith:

At that hour of the night the jailer took them and washed their wounds; then immediately he and all his household were baptized. (Acts 16:33, TNIV)

Yes, I also baptized the household of Stephanas; beyond that, I don’t remember if I baptized anyone else. (1 Corinthians 1:16, TNIV)

The early church also considers infant baptism to be an apostolic teaching passed down from them to their disciples, as evidenced in the writings of Augustine and Hippolytus:

“Baptize first the children, and if they can speak for themselves let them do so. Otherwise, let their parents or other relatives speak for them” (Hippolytus, The Apostolic Tradition 21:16 [A.D. 215]).

“What the universal Church holds, not as instituted [invented] by councils but as something always held, is most correctly believed to have been handed down by apostolic authority. Since others respond for children, so that the celebration of the sacrament may be complete for them, it is certainly availing to them for their consecration, because they themselves are not able to respond” (St. Augustine. On Baptism, Against the Donatists 4:24:31 [A.D. 400]).

“The custom of Mother Church in baptizing infants is certainly not to be scorned, nor is it to be regarded in any way as superfluous, nor is it to be believed that its tradition is anything except apostolic” (St. Augustine. The Literal Interpretation of Genesis 10:23:39 [A.D. 408]).

Thus, the apostolic teaching of infant baptism was a view of baptism as consecration, making it akin to circumcision. Instead of being an event centered on the personal proclamation of a believer, the understanding of infant baptism is that it is a consecration of a child as a member of God’s kingdom. This is the literal understanding of Paul’s reflection in his letter to the Colossians:

“In him you were also circumcised with a circumcision not performed by human hands. Your sinful nature was put off when you were circumcised by Christ, having been buried with him in baptism, in which you were also raised with him through your faith in the working of God, who raised him from the dead.

When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your sinful nature, God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the charge of our legal indebtedness, which stood against us and condemned us; he has taken it away, nailing it to the cross.”

The metaphor Paul invokes of circumcision as a precursor to baptism makes sense in terms of the old covenant versus the new covenant. As Christ brought the new covenant by his blood and has written his word on our hearts, so too has he called us, through the teaching of his Word, to perform baptism as a sign of the new covenant. The perspective of infant baptism is from God’s point of view, namely that God has opened his kingdom to all, even this child. This does not, from my perspective at least, place any connotations of salvation onto the child. Baptism is a sealing of the Holy Spirit and a sign of membership in God’s kingdom. Paul elaborates on this in Romans, when he writes:

Under what circumstances was it credited? Was it after he was circumcised, or before? It was not after, but before! And he received circumcision as a sign, a seal of the righteousness that he had by faith while he was still uncircumcised. So then, he is the father of all who believe but have not been circumcised, in order that righteousness might be credited to them. And he is then also the father of the circumcised who not only are circumcised but who also follow in the footsteps of the faith that our father Abraham had before he was circumcised.  (Romans 4: 10-12, TNIV)

Following this logic, infant baptism does not place salvation onto a child, but invites them into the kingdom of God. In this mode, baptism acts is the sign of  God imparting his grace onto a child. This is how both the Presbyterian and Methodist denominations have worked out there understandings of this imparting of grace:

Baptism, whether administered to those who profess their faith or to those presented for Baptism as children, is one and the same Sacrament. The Baptism of children witnesses to the truth that God’s love claims people before they are able to respond in faith. (PCUSA)

In all forms of Christian baptism, God claims those being baptized, whatever their age or ability to profess their faith, with divine grace. Clearly an infant can do nothing to save himself or herself, but is totally dependent on God’s grace, as we all are — whatever our age. (UMC)

In my next two posts I will outline the contemporary problems surrounding adult baptism and infant baptism as they relate to discipleship within the church. My final post will be about how to rectify the situation of different modes of baptism in a post-Christian context.

The wait is over! The Matter Anthology from Matter Con 2009 is now available for pre-order, bringing together the many thought provoking presentations from the conference. Peter Rollins writes in the foreword:

“When theology falls into the hands of the poet, something profound takes place. We can find that through the theological dis-course we come into contact with ourselves with all the difficulties and possibilities that entails. Through ideas like Creation, Fall, Salvation, Eucharist, Heaven, and Hell we come face to face with what it means to be human. This collection of essays, images, and poetry represents an attempt to put theology back into the hands of the dreamers. To give it back again to those who would speak lies in order to reveal the deepest, most transformative truths.”

The collection includes essays by Julie Clawson and yours truly, poetry by Kevin Meaux and Bill Mallonee, visual art, and drama.

You can pre-order the anthology from Shechem Press today.

To continue the conversation around baptism I started off with the story of my baptismal journey, I wanted to present the case for adult baptism first, followed by the case for infant baptism.

Adult baptism is hard to argue against, certainly from the biblical evidence and the testimony of the church throughout its long history. It helps that proponents of infant baptism are not against adult baptism, for in their Christian practice they baptize both infants and adults.  The mainline Protestant denominations, Roman Catholics, and Eastern Orthodox all have established liturgy for adult baptisms. Basically, when it comes down to it, adult baptism is accepted practice in all denominations and sects of Christianity.

So, the case for adult baptism is not to prove its worth as much as it is to prove its exclusivity, namely that it should be the only accepted practice of baptism in the various streams of Christianity. Certainly, the arguments for adult baptism have their foundation in the teachings of Christ and the Acts of the Apostles:

The Great Commission—Jesus clearly teaches adult baptism when he commands the apostles to go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey all he has taught them.

Pentecost—After preaching, Peter asks that those who believe in Christ repent and be baptized.

Simon the Magician—After coming to belief, the magician Simon is baptized and then follows Phillip as a disciple.

The Ethiopian Eunuch—Phillip baptizes the Ethiopian eunuch after he believes in Christ.

This evidence from the Scriptures establishes adult baptism as a faithful Christian practice, and Christian history attests to this.

The case for adult baptism then rests with why it should be the only valid mode of baptism. The reasons for these, in a nutshell, are:

• infants cannot testify to their faith.
• infants cannot believe.
• infants or children are not truly part of the church or God’s kingdom.
• a person is not part of God’s kingdom until they have proclaimed faith and been baptized.
• the system of infant baptism followed by discipleship (confirmation) does not follow the order in the Great Commission of make disciples, then baptize.

Those are just some of the many arguments that make the case for adult baptism. Many of them are valid, and certainly make sense in our Western understanding of the age of accountability, sin, and community. In the next post, I will be making the case for infant baptism.

My review of Richard O. Moore’s new book of poetry, Writing the Silences, is published in The Englewood Review of Books featured review section. Go check it out!

With a child on the way, I have had to start confronting some of the realities of raising a child in the church. I already have some ground rules: no lame Christian music, no WWJD bracelets, and no corny Christian t-shirts.

Beyond that, I have been wrestling with the concern of baptism. I lean toward infant baptism (I’d say I’m 60% for infant baptism and 40% for believer’s baptism), but have a more open stance on the issue (which I’ll get to in a later post). For now, as an introduction to this series on Which Baptism to Choose?, I wanted to share my baptismal stories, because I think that has had a lot of influence on my own thinking.

I was recently asked by a friend about my thoughts on baptism, and to really explain my stance on baptism I have to start with my baptismal stories. I say stories because I have more than one: I was double dipped.

I grew up in the Lutheran church (both LCMS and ELCA), and so was baptized as an infant, which is customary in the Lutheran tradition. “The understanding of baptism in the Lutheran church is: Baptism begins a life throughout which we grow in faith and service through instruction, reminders of God’s love, and the support and example of the Christian community” (Baptism: Lutheran View, ELCA). This is basically how I grew up in the faith—I didn’t have a major salvation event or pray the sinners prayer, I just continued to grow in faith and service through participating in the church, and made the decision gradually to own my faith.

In high school though we began attending a non-denominational church where believer’s baptism was taught. I felt some pressure to be baptized again when I heard the testimonies of those who were being baptized again “for real” this time, but I never felt any pressure from the church or the pulpit itself. Part stubbornness and part confusion, I decided to not be rebaptized—even in high school I had a theological understanding that baptism was baptism no matter what denomination and should be mutually respected (I was adamant about church unity from a young age, I think).

Then came college. I started helping out at a baptist church as a youth leader and immediately felt pressure to be rebaptized. I was told on numerous occasions that my infant baptism didn’t count, and that I needed to be baptized again. I kind of balked at the beginning, but the guilt and confusion grew until I decided to be baptized again just to make sure I covered all the baptismal bases.

Getting baptized again didn’t lead to a peace of mind, it just made me a little bitter. I began to think I should have taken it back, because I was baptized for the wrong reasons, even though so many had said it was the right thing to do! In a supreme case of irony, I had turned what those eager baptists said was an act of faith and turned it into a personal work toward my salvation.

This remorse for my second baptism led me to retrace my roots through theology, and I came to terms that I preferred infant baptism to believer’s baptism, especially since I had begun to reclaim a higher view of the sacraments. I have had to revisit these views all over again recently though, because I don’t want my child to have to go through this same baptismal tug-of-war that I went through. Have any of you had a similar baptismal experience to me?

In the next post, I’ll dialogue about my understanding of believer’s baptism today.

As an appendix to this week’s guest posts on creativity and worship, I thought that this prayer of St. Gregory of Nyssa:

You truly, O Lord, are the pure and eternal fount of goodness; … who did curse, and did bless; you did banish us from Paradise, and did recall us; you did strip off the fig-tree leaves … and put upon us a costly garment; you did open the prison and did release the condemned; you did sprinkle us with clean water, and cleanse us from our filthiness. No longer shall … the flaming sword encircle Paradise around, and make the entrance inaccessible to those that draw near; but all is turned to joy for us that were the heirs of sin; Paradise, yea, heaven itself may be trodden by man, and the creation, in the world and above the world, that once was at variance with itself, is knit together in friendship: and we … are made to join in the angels’ song, offering the worship of their praise.

- from “On the Baptism of Christ”

This prayer reminds us that our own creativity in worship is a response to the original creation of the universe.

I would like to invite you into a world of possibilities. Jeremy Begbie, a distinguished professor at both Duke Divinity School and Cambridge University, often says, “the arts are showing us over and over again the possibilities of transformation…they show us how things can be even in this world [and] even the worst can be woven into God’s purposes.” If this is the case, then what possibilities might the art of Christian worship be showing us?

This past January, I spent some significant time with several communities in the United Kingdom (U.K.) who have been engaged for at least two decades now in a movement called alternative worship. These worshipping communities have created a broad spectrum of improvisations on Christian worship using popular culture, their own specific cultural contexts and of course their Anglican tradition. But how does one even begin to improvise with the vast tradition of Christian worship?

I have compiled eight ideas from my time in the UK that can help break open our imagination for developing creative worship. The most important thread that runs through all of these, however, is risk. Simply put, if you don’t risk, you won’t innovate.

1.Write Your Own Liturgy // Many (if not most) of the alt. worship gatherings have a communal practice of writing their own liturgy with images, metaphors, visual references, and language indigenous to their own location (think social location, geographic location, denominational location). If you find yourself in a place where liturgical forms are more restricting than freeing, even starting with elements of the worship often not typically seen as “sacred” can open up space for further improvisation. The prayers of the people, the invocation or the benediction all offer fairly non-abrasive way in to creative prayer.

2. Encourage the Artist(s) // In the Church of modernity, rationalism dominated. Making room for the voice of the artist to be heard, seen or felt inspired creativity. Artists know better than us “nonartists” (Everyone is creative, whether or not they identify themselves as an “artist”) that exposure to creative thinking fuels further creative thought. The arts are often highly encouraged within alt. worship in a wide range of ways. The result is a creative atmosphere, a culture of creativity.

3. Practice Storytelling // The practice of telling the story of a community’s life together evokes shared memories as well as critical reflections. At times such a community practice even raises a diversity of perspectives about that shared history! Alt. worship has made a habit of telling their stories at Greenbelt (an annual music festival where alt. worship communities converge for a “family reunion” of sorts), resource weekends and in collaboration with local community partners. Make use of the biblical narratives too when telling your story. Remember that the biblical stories are not so much authoritative because they happened, but because they happen…today.

4. Imitate Someone Who Inspires You // Imitation is a powerful tool for improvisation. It is a practice of careful and intentional study. Even when taking careful considering to imitate and replicate, new connections and insights are made. Doing the same routine in a new place invites creative thinking and deeper attention to context. It won’t matter the medium, so think broadly here. Below are several sites that have documented alt. worship gatherings all over the world. Find something that inspires you and imitate it with careful reflection on your own context.

5. Visit Art Galleries // Though it may seem odd, there is much that can be learned from experiencing well laid out and well curated art exhibits. Paying attention to flow, lighting, presentation of the art and background information presented can provide new ways for thinking about creativity. At Grace (London), Jonny Baker has developed much thinking on “curating worship.” For example every Grace service is led by a “curator.” The idea here is that when good curation happens, you experience the difference and yet no one ever knows or realizes who the curators of any exhibit are. Good curation is felt more than noticed on the surface.

6. Create Boundaries and Limits // Often it is harder to be creative with absolute freedom. Rather than starting with a blank canvas, choose an element of liturgy (or other aspect/event of community life) and create intentional boundaries to work within. For example, many of the alt. worship gatherings were limited to the presence of only lay people. This meant that their sacramental practices had to be creative with other areas of the service — such as creating prayer stations, the worship space itself or music.

7.Do Less, Simplify // Similar to creating boundaries, limiting the content to the bare minimum often produces a more creative setting. Create a special seasonal service (Advent, Lent, for example) with the bare minimum. Use the same scripture multiple weeks in a row or use the same prayer repetitiously but in slightly different way. Though many alt. worship services are intricate, many participants often choose a single prayer station or opportunity to express themselves. Another example of this repetitive simplicity can be found at the Community of Taizé where simple chants are repeated over and over again.

8. Create a Change of Scenery // Often times when we are dislocated, we find ourselves with a new awareness of our surroundings. Changing the location (be intentional here) of where worship or another community life event is help to re-imagine what the possibilities are. A change of scenery was responsible for both Transcendence (Visions, York) and for a new rhythms of community life at Grace (London).

As you begin to take risks and develop your own creative worship, perhaps a careful distinction would be helpful. Christianity has a rich history and tradition. In fact it’s quite creative. I want to draw a distinction between traditional (adjective) and traditioned (verb) worship. Like all adjectives, traditional is highly relative and has come to be equated with the static — maintaining the status quo. The later, traditioned, as a verb, represents an active process of engagement and study with a particular tradition. We all come from a tradition. Worship that is traditioned though has been intentionally seasoned (think “flavored”) with the symbols, images, metaphors, language and icons that contain deep significance for Christian faith. But traditioned worship has also been handed over to a new day, a time in which the original must also speak to the present and to the future. That is to say, they become relevant for today and beyond by their very function. And so if we are to develop creative worship that helps us make meaning of the world we find ourselves it, it will be both traditioned and relevant. But those two are never intrinsically mutually exclusive.

—–

Tim Snyder is the co-founder of the Netzer Co-Op, an emerging community in Austin, Texas. He holds the bachelors of arts in theology from Texas Lutheran University and is a graduate student at Luther Seminary. Tim is Managing Editor of GENERATE Magazine.  Tim previously contributed an article on the liturgy of the farmers market to The Everyday Journal.

Additional Resources for Creative Worship:

www.smallfire.org // Here Steve Collins has curated the largest collection of pictures documenting the alt. worship movement in the UK.

www.smallritual.org // Here Steve Collins has curated a large collection of articles, videos and other resources from the alt. worship movement in the UK.

Proost (a small publishing outfit in the UK) has published a series of Pocket Liturgies from many of the most creative worshipping communities in the UK. These are great especially if you are interested in writing your own liturgy. visit Proost online at www.proost.co.uk

Jonny Baker’s Worship Tricks is a collection of creative moments in worship from all over the world. You can find those on his blog: http://jonnybaker.blogs.com/jonnybaker/worship_tricks/

For the best introductory guide to developing creative worship, see A Wee Worship Book (4th Incarnation), Wild Goose Worship Group (GIA Publications), 1999).

4. Imitate Someone Who Inspires You // Imitation is a powerful tool for improvisation. It is a practice of careful and intentional study. Even when taking careful considering to imitate and replicate, new connections and insights are made. Doing the same routine in a new place invites creative thinking and deeper attention to context. It won’t matter the medium, so think broadly here. Below are several sites that have documented alt. worship gatherings all over the world. Find something that inspires you and imitate it with careful reflection on your own context.

5. Visit Art Galleries // Though it may seem odd, there is much that can be learned from experiencing well laid out and well curated art exhibits. Paying attention to flow, lighting, presentation of the art and background information presented can provide new ways for thinking about creativity. At Grace (London), Jonny Baker has developed much thinking on “curating worship.” For example every Grace service is led by a “curator.” The idea here is that when good curation happens, you experience the

difference and yet no one ever knows or realizes who the curators of any exhibit are. Good curation is

felt more than noticed on the surface.

6. Create Boundaries and Limits // Often it is harder to be creative with absolute freedom. Rather than starting with a blank canvas, choose an element of liturgy (or other aspect/event of community life) and create intentional boundaries to work within. For example, many of the alt. worship gatherings were limited to the presence of only lay people. This meant that their sacramental practices had to be creative with other areas of the service — such as creating prayer stations, the worship space itself or music.

Whenever I read the Psalms I’m impressed by the rich imagery, metaphors, and narratives that the poets use for their worship.

The poets who wrote the Psalms wrote about enemy attacks, trees rooted along streams, and rocks holding firm amidst floods. These images communicated truths about God’s character and his dealings with his people.

In our contemporary liturgies and worship songs we would do well to pay attention to the use of language in the Psalms and consider how we can imitate their literary qualities today. Many contemporary worship songs succeed in conveying truths about God, but they fail to relate these ideas with fresh language and rich imagery.

I am most impressed by the work of The David Crowder Band. They write about God as illuminating, of meeting God in a beautiful collision, and of God as a Remedy. Perhaps the concept of a remedy isn’t all that different from God as a healer and illumination is quite similar to saying God is the light of the world, but these slight twists to familiar images open up fresh avenues to imagination and to our worship.

As we worship our creator God, our songs, poems, and prose can take us deeper in our worship as they push us to imagine God in new ways.

———

Ed Cyzewski blogs on theology at www.inamirrordimly.com and on writing at www.edcyz.com. He is the author of Coffeehouse Theology.

When Chris and I joined our church, we attended a smaller service (at our larger church) with simple, acoustic music in tune with our everyday lives and with opportunities to use our creativity in the service—readings, films, and music.

A couple of years later, our church canceled that service. Now we attend a larger service at the same church. The music (think The New Main Street Singers from Mighty Wind) makes me want to put my eardrums through a shredder, and I no longer have the chance to offer my writing and music in the Sunday morning service.

When Thomas posed the question “how do you use creativity in worship?”, I jumped at the chance to blog about it. I’d been struggling with this very thing for over a year.

To answer this requires two things: define creativity and define worship.

Creativity’s the easy one. Dictionary.com defines it as “the state or quality of being creative” or “the process by which one utilizes creative ability.”

Not as helpful as one might like.

So we move to “creative.” This time we get “characterized by originality and expressiveness; imaginative.”

This leaves us with the question how do you use your ability to be original, expressive, and imaginative in worship?

Which makes me wonder what we mean by worship (to say nothing of what I’m expressing).

Hebrew and Greek words translated into our English “worship” denote ideas of service, joy, and gestures. The International Standard Bible Dictionary says worship “begins with God. God the creator, the rescuer, and the redeemer initiates our human approach to Him. The remembered events of the Exodus, the Passover, the crucifixion, and the Resurrection evoke a response from God’s people. The response is worship” (vol. 4, p. 1117). Not exactly a definition, it provides a helpful description.

At the heart, worship responds to God’s worthiness.

Or, as Paul puts it, “I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship” (Romans 12:1).

In our response to God, we take our everyday, ordinary lives and offer them to God. We do everything as unto the Lord.

So we’ve refined the question to how do you use your ability to be original, expressive, and imaginative in your daily offering of your everyday, ordinary life as a response to God’s worthiness?

Or (to compact things), how do I use my original, expressive, and imaginative abilities to become more like Christ?

Becoming Christ-like implies ideas such as loving the Lord, loving your neighbor, and all the other godly things summed up in these two things. My creativity in worship, then, becomes about how I can serve God and others in my everyday life. How can I expressively respond to God’s hope and beauty in the midst of tragedy and despair? How can I imaginatively serve the needs of my elderly next-door neighbor or an orphan in Honduras? How can I use originality to care for God’s creation and combat consumerism?

I’ve breached my word limit, but I’ll answer quickly: I explore God’s hope and beauty in small gestures in my writing, both for my own discovery and to let others know they’re not alone. I knit clothes for friends, family, and strangers, treating my stitches like rosary beads. I dig my fingernails into the dirt, planting tomato and squash and edamame.

And on Sunday mornings, as I sing God’s praises (albeit to ear-contorting music) and as I taste the sacrament of God’s grace on my tongue, I rejoice in the diversity of a Creator who saw fit to revel in the worship of a diversity of personalities, tongues, and cultures.

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Bio: Heather enjoys silly puns, campfire stories, and conducting imaginary symphonies. When she’s not breaking into song and dance in grocery story aisles, you can find her contemplating life at http://heatheragoodman.com. She also meanders in the fields of http://twitter.com/heatheragoodman.