I do dumb things. I admit it. I’m embarrassed about it. However, some things I do are only considered dumb by others, not me. Many of the “dumb” things I do may just bear repeating. 

Years ago in a casual conversation with George Barna, I asked him what he thought of “blended worship.” He suggested that all of the attempts he had observed were “apples and oranges” failures. “It just doesn’t work,” he said with no particular rancor. I, a long-time advocate for the genre, stood there with an air of thoughtful neutrality, so as not to show my clearly vacuous hand.

Was he wrong, or was I self-deceived? We may never know, since his point-of-view seems to have won the day in the observable Evangelical arena. It’s getting harder and harder to find a service of worship in the well-niched marketplace (yes, I said it) which hasn’t decided that we live in either a contemporary or traditional world—there’s nothing in between. 

That’s a huge switch from just 15 years ago, when most worship leaders would proudly say, “Oh yes, we’re definitely blended!” The motive for that reply was a faintly masked attempt to avoid committing the sin of being close-minded or irreverent toward one group or the other. Those days are over, and maybe that’s a good thing.

Well, these are new times, and given that, let me share some dumb things that I’ve done for decades with apparent impunity, and would happily do again and again. 

1. I know it’s just plain dumb, but I believe bringing people of varying interests, backgrounds, ages, cultural references, and POVs into one room for a shared experience of worship can help everybody grow.

You will have no problem refuting this naive premise and you can use hundreds of articles published daily on the internet. Experientially, though, I have encountered holy nuanced moments more than occasionally. I’ve seen 80 year olds weeping during a praise song and 20 year olds weeping during a slowed down version of “A Mighty Fortress is Our God.” That either means that people are inherently weepy, or the human heart is capable of more than Campbell’s tomato soup theology and practice. Dunno...

 2. It seems dumb, but I’ve helped implement worship services focused on creativity and imagination instead of age/stage-appropriate simplified content. 

The result of using a well-tuned mind or minds to write and prepare a worship service with infinite variety and attractiveness is genuine old-fashioned engagement—the same kind of engagement that makes people want to own one of the over 25 million iPads sold so far. Innovation, smart planning, good design and engineering create demand.  

Turning out the same product week after week doesn’t create anything other than boredom. Incidentally that is often the failing of both contemporary and traditional worship advocates.  

Disengagement occurs when you plan a service to please a targeted group of “patrons” of worship, who either carry a well-worn family Bible or a large cup of designer coffee into the service. Do we honestly think these two groups are natural enemies? Really?

 3. Surely this is dumb, but I believe we should play down the pretentious and build up the divine. 

 For me, pretension is calling your pastor The Right-Reverend Dr. John Doe, III, PhD, ThD. Not that anyone does that anymore. They do? Good grief! 

Actually, ANY church that builds its lexicon around exclusivity is going to be selling its pews or information kiosks for firewood in the long term. Make no mistake, there is all kinds of pretentious audacity. In trying to be eminently hip and attractive or absurdly sheltering “old” traditionalists, many well-meaning churches will ultimately fail to do either. 

The devil is not in the details. That’s not the quote. GOD is in the details, and we should pay attention to them. God is not always at 30,000 feet observing the latest trends in church music. 

I’m sure you’ve heard the term, “I want to be a fool for Christ.” What’s wrong with that?

Blessings

Doug

Write me if you need some help, advice, or a kick in the pants... dlawrenceconsult@mac.com