Living the Life
I’ve been thinking about the concept of worship and what that means and what place it holds in my life. It’s so easy for me to think of worship and immediately think of music. And while music is definitely a huge part of worship, worship is not exclusively song, nor should it be. Anyone who has been in a Baptist church longer than a three-week period had most likely heard this phrase: “Worship is a lifestyle.” That is true, but that statement is often said but rarely unpacked. I’ve been pondering what it means to live a lifestyle of worship, of how such a thing is even possible while on this Earth.
I think living life as a “good Christian” can often seem like this impossible, completely overwhelming task. At least it feels that way to me so much of the time. Living the life of a believer can often feel centered around a moral checklist instead of a relationship with Jesus. It’s as if there are two lists we have to be focused on: the good list and the bad list. The good list has things like prayer, Scripture, church, etc. The bad list has alcohol, several four-letter words, lust, and about a million other things. I often think that if I have enough gold stars on the good list that I’m doing okay. (This sounds incredibly silly, but I think it’s a very common mindset in the church.) I have spent so much of my faith attempting to complete the tasks on the good list while avoiding the actions and thoughts on the bad list. That is a frustrating, guilt-inducing way to live any life, especially one centered around ideas of grace and redemption.
I have always known that Christianity completely centers around Jesus Christ, but it dawned on me rather recently that the Jesus of the Bible and the Jesus I so often reflect and see reflected are very different. I have this tendency to look at people who might be failing morally and think I’m a far superior Christian. I realize how vital forgiving others is yet I will dislike someone for the longest time if they hurt someone I care about. I can easily point out the sins of those I come in contact with but when it comes to dealing with my own bad habits I am hesitant to go there. I often think of life as this us vs. them sort of thing, with the “us” being Christians and “them” being the world.
I’ve been in church my whole life, and there has always been an emphasis on not getting close to the infamous world. We are to be in it, but not of it. And while there is truth to that thought, I think such a mindset can often cause more harm than good. When we think that way, the us vs. them way, it is so easy to think of ourselves as people far holier and wiser than we truly are. We point fingers at “them” and judge their actions when they don’t even claim our God. I know I do this far more than I care to admit. Sometimes we as Christians act shocked when we see sin and brush off the person who is committing it. But if a person does not claim Christ, what right do those who do have to judge them?
The way I and so many others treat “the world” and the way Jesus responded to it is one of the greatest examples of the Jesus of Scripture being different than the Jesus represented. Jesus sat down to dinner with prostitutes and thieves. He called ignorant fishermen to be his disciples, his best friends. He knew these men were fickle and would eventually fail him, yet he chose them to spread his message to the entire world. He stopped and made time for the diseased and the burdened. His anger was directed towards those in the church, who thought they were so incredibly Godly but who were missing the point. I often wonder if I am missing the point, if there isn’t more to life than the aforementioned checklists.
I don’t believe Jesus came into this world for us to follow a list of rules for our entire lives, then ascend to heaven when we die. There is so much more to it than that. And I think that’s where living a lifestyle of worship comes in. Worship means to give honor and reverance to something. What screams of honor more than a life of imitation?
I have come to believe that living a lifestyle of worship is not just going to church, singing some hymns and praise choruses, and checking off other various things on the good list. I think living a lifestyle of worship means attempting to imitate Jesus with every step, every decision, every word. It means making the daily choice to love the ones who might not deserve it, the ones who don’t look the part of a Christian, the ones who are angry or numb. It means feeding the hungry and clothing the naked, embracing the people the culture so quickly brushes off. It means feeling compassion and patience for those who might not merit it. It means actually stepping in to the oh-so-scary-World and embracing those we find there, the morally bankrupt people who might hate the idea of God. It means building relationships with people not simply to “save” them, but simply because they’re people.
And music does fit in to all of that. And I think in some ways music is the hardest part of it for me. It is so easy for me to stand there and sing, all the while thinking in my head how much I hate the song or how I wish we were singing something else. And when I go through “worship” like that I am missing it. Instead of using what I’ve been given to worship with, I dissect the song instead of offering it to Him. I think about me and completely neglect Him. I have often thought that if I liked the songs being sung, then worship would be so much better, perhaps easier. But such thinking is only selfish, and focusing on the self in the musical act of worship destroys any chance of God actually being pleased or blessed. I imagine God’s reaction to selfish worshipers as being very similar to His reaction in the temple when the people there were not there for the right reasons or intended purpose, but instead to sell of a few things and make some cash.
I have an awful habit of being passionate about Jesus for a while, then getting frustrated when I don’t feel Him or hear His responses. When He seems distant, I get tired and just give up for a while until I feel the urge again. But I am realizing more and more that a relationship with Jesus is just like any other relationship. Relationships have valleys and peaks. When I am frustrated with a friend who I haven’t heard from in a while, I don’t turn my back on them and give up. When I don’t feel as close to a person as I used to, I don’t throw in the towel and declare that relationship over. And I shouldn’t do these things with Jesus, either.
I read a quote by Albert Einstein the other day that I loved. Nothing is more mysterious to me than God, so I think Einstein’s words are imporant to keep in mind:
“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom this emoton is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.”
Choices
Lately, I have had a very difficult time hanging on to the concept of hope. I saw hope for other people to change, to grow, to get wiser, healthier, stronger, etc. But as for myself, I’ve been struggling to believe that good things were coming my way. I have been overwhelmed with worry lately, mainly about future goals and ambitions. This is the time in my life where I am being forced to grow up, to make big-girl decisions, and to stand on my own two feet. It’s me that will be deciding what career to pursue and it’s me that will have to provide a way to get there. Before, it’s been mommy and daddy taking care of me, guiding me, and pointing me in the right direction. And while they still do in some ways, I am realizing now how vital it is that I be able to be strong on my own.
This thought has also scared me. I kept seeing myself as this person who tries and tries but who always, for some reason, never quite makes it. I saw myself getting rejected by the schools I plan to apply to, never getting the career I want, never getting the husband I so desire or the amazing loft apartment. After a while of dwelling on these ideas of failure, I began to believe them to be true. As that happened, I began to lose my hope.
But I have learned lately that every day is a series of choices. Every moment demands a decision. And in those moments, I can choose to try or I can choose to pout, to remind myself of what a failure I am and will always be. In the choices I’ve had recently, I’ve decided to try for what I want. I have realized that if I give my best in all areas of my life—to the people I love, to my studies, to Jesus–that I will be okay. I may not get the life I have always dreamed of. My life might end up somewhere completely foreign from the place I had always imagined it, but so often what we want and what we get rarely line up. And sometimes when they do, we realize that’s not what we really wanted at all.
Today has been a good one. I feel happy. I haven’t felt that way in a long time, it seems. I’ve been fine, but not great. And today I feel closer to the place I used to be, the place where I saw things with an optimistic eye, the place where I trusted that if I gave excellence I would eventually be rewarded, not in big ways but in small ones.
