Album 3 and 4 – deep relaxation

My 3rd and 4th albums are vastly different, but share common ground in that they inspire(d) a lot of the relaxation I find in playing around at the keys for hours.

First, Deep Forest was a project that sought to preserve indigenous peoples’ music while mixing it with modern electronic flavors. They’ve put out a number of albums featuring music from all over the world, but the first album sticks with me after a few years of listening to it as a teenager.

I received a cassette as a gift from a friend and co-worker at my first job, someone I looked up to in a lot of ways, so that certainly helped me overcome the initial unfamiliarity.

But the influence of the album goes much deeper.

The range in the music is part of what makes the album special to me. Some of the songs are like soundtracks to the sunset, stargazing anthems, melodic hymns for the morning, and driving beats for a jog across the plains.

I used to workout in the garage or go for jogs and bike rides listening to this stuff, and while foreign in lyrics and style, it feels very much like home.

On the subject of home, I grew up learning to play the piano, taking eight years of formal lessons. After the first couple years and opportunities to show off (playing feeble, simplistic variations on well-known tunes), my uncle John would frequently ask what new songs I was learning.

If memory serves, he was the one who first said, “Oh, do you know Pachelbel’s Canon in D?” I did not. He may have even played a few notes of it to see if it would jog my memory.

After that, he often brought an album of instrumental music when he visited–something my parents would enjoy listening to, and something I would learn from. Some of the modern greats like Vince Guaraldi and George Winston.

I don’t have those old albums any more, sadly… but I get a similar enjoyment from the way The Piano Guys bring joy and creative expression to all their remakes of classics and modern tunes.

Over the years, I learned to play more and more by ear. I could hear and identify notes near perfectly, so when I wanted to learn a song, I would play around until I figured out the right notes. For example, I learned a bunch of Guns ‘n’ Roses songs not so much from sheet music, but by sitting there with a Walkman and the cassette tape, stopping-rewinding-starting, playing around until I could imitate the parts I thought captured the original song well.

With Pachelbel’s Canon, I loved the way the music is designed to play upon the same theme, to keep adding layers and complexity to what starts out as a simple piece. (Yes, yes, that’s kind of the definition of “canon” in musical terms, but whatever, I didn’t know that at the time.)

I played around with Pachelbel for hours and hours, figuring out how to duplicate some of the more intricate parts I loved in the recorded versions, or learning to incorporate my own attempts.

What I enjoyed most about sitting there “fooling around” was that it taught me how to flow with my mistakes, maybe even to turn them into an intentional part of the music. An obvious discordant note stands out when played alone, but once you’re used to the scale, you can often hit a wrong note and improvise a way back to what sounds fitting.

Much like in life, an important lesson in playing an instrument is learning how to continue right through the mistakes we are certain to make, and get back on the intended melody without letting the error ruin the whole performance.

Speaking of an almost-ruined performance, the Piano Guys’ video of their version of Pachelbel is a delight.

Burned Out

I came across this post while browsing the Facebooks, and I was already thinking about how often anyone who doesn’t agree with the Right on my friends list gets called a sheep or treated as though their one and only motivation for everything they do is fear.

Mario Murillo has this post about responding to the government response to the pandemic. While I can get behind a little bit of it, most of it feels like skepticism and fear peddled as “the true faithful’s viewpoint.”

He does say fairly that, whether you feel like you should re-open your church or keep your church closed, the important thing is that you are doing what you feel led by God to do, and not just trying to appease some government or politicians. The person keeping their church closed should be seeking to please God, and the person opening their church should be honoring God and following His lead, NOT thumbing their nose at politicians or trying to rebel against authority.

I can appreciate that as a sort of reasonable olive branch extended to people on both sides. He even implies that pastors who seek to follow God might keep their church closed as an act of obedient faith.

But then he descends into all his reasons why we should re-open, making arguments that I feel work just as effectively against his case as they provide support.

First, anything less than “re-open everything now” is falling into the evil plans of the Left.

The funny thing to me is that while everyone on the “re-open now” side is accusing the other side of fear, they’re operating out of fear just as much. Oh, they call it wisdom. “Never trust the government! Or Big Pharma! Or science!” But it looks and feels like paranoia.

It’s not paranoia if they really are out to get you! I saw a YouTube video about this. (/sarcasm)

Murillo claims that the goal post was moved, that we all were lied to, that the new end state requirement is “having a cure.”

No one is anticipating having a cure, but they do want to try to develop an effective vaccine. Those are different things. Vaccines don’t always work for everything; Dr. Fauci even warned Congress about this just recently, though I feel like the headline is misleading.

Developing the right vaccine is a process, and they’re trying to end up with something that can help counter the spread and the danger of the disease. But no, it’s not a cure, so maybe be more careful with your choice of words.

Murillo also says, “What about the flu?” as if that’s not the most tired argument. “The flu kills about 40K a year and we aren’t shutting down for that…”

But we’re already at 90K dead in about 4 months at most since corona came to the US. So, since we’re already more than double the number of deaths in less than half the time all while taking the most drastic preventative measures to stop the spread that any of us can probably remember within our lifetimes, can we shut up about comparisons to the flu?

But yes, it’s the Left that’s exaggerating everything. You know, as they do. Thankfully the Right is ever the bastion of truth. (sarcasm again. They should make a font for it.)

No, actually, most of what I hear from the panic-stricken Right is an exaggeration as well. “Our coronavirus response? It’s so good. We’re doing really well. Everything is great. We’re the best. We’re the reasonable side.”

When facing an unknown and dangerous situation, most people aim to err on the side of caution, because you can regret overreacting to a thing, but can’t really take back under-reacting to a global pandemic. There isn’t a reset button on this game we’re playing.

Murillo says that our witness will be ruined because so many people feel as though government tyranny is upon us, and some churches will have gone right along with it. “How do you think people will view us when they realize that their freedoms are being taken away?” (Sure, no fear on this side of the debate, just wisdom.)

I’ve seen plenty of witness ruined when people look on dumbfounded as church-goers flout the restrictions and demand to meet in large groups. We look bad to a large portion of the population when we can’t comply with restrictions for safety; to them, it seems like we’re content to put our neighbors and friends at risk, which is generally considered “not loving” behavior.

Some don’t get upset at us, however. They laugh and eagerly anticipate the faithful catching the virus, something they then use as an emotional appeal to “Where was your god when you were meeting to worship him?” It’s a weak logical or philosophical argument, but it plays well in the soundbites and memes of social media.

Murillo says the courts are striking down some elements of these lockdown orders.

Great news! Isn’t it?

It’s like the system of checks and balances in government still functions just fine. I was assured this was tyranny on the rise in the previous paragraph but now you’re telling me that tyranny is being stopped by the tyrannical government. Well, thank goodness!

Oh, but the clincher is “the litmus test” for reopening or not. “Find me one single avid fan of America remaining closed who does not also hate Trump.” These people would rather see thousands die than see Trump reelected! (In other words, here’s a dose of fear of the other side, mixed with politics, because we know that politics is the most important thing when we’re talking about your faith.)

“There’s no way God is in that—and you are going to get burned.”

But what about the stories of churches suffering losses of members or even pastors who got coronavirus after pushing back on the restrictions? A quick Google search brings up dozens of results of pastors dealing with the physical, immediate consequences of their stance.

(I tried re-finding the stories I read, which are described below, but I couldn’t pull them out of the wide range of similar stories with pastors who are more blatant or belligerent in their insistence that yes they must hold church and no little virus is going to stop them.)

Many churches are experiencing needless pain and regret. There’s a pastor in Canada now saying, “I wish I could go back and do it different” after two members of the congregation are dead and a few dozen got covid. Their group actually practiced some level of precaution and social distancing. There’s a choir of over a hundred members that went on meeting in the Pacific Northwest, and (if memory serves) 81 of the 120 or so got covid.

You’re telling me God is in that? You’re telling me those people didn’t get burned by a willful insistence to keep on doing normal things in the face of a pandemic?

Murillo throws in that the courts consider some of these governors and politicians “criminals.” Again, his word choice is incendiary and meant to elicit a reaction from the base. These politicians are not being charged with crimes. The judicial branch is exercising its authority to put a check on the executive branch by saying, “No, you don’t have the right to do that.” That’s how our system of government is designed to work. But ok, the Left are the ones always exaggerating everything.

All that aside, let me get back to this idea that anyone who disagrees with or opposes re-opening does so out of hatred for President Trump.

I have better things to do than to hate him, although I have a lot of issues with how he has handled the job. I also don’t consider myself an “avid fan” of America remaining closed.

See, that’s the problem with all of this. It’s all described in extremes, either because they know a highly polarized audience will rabidly consume fresh meat and keep the support going strong, or because they will then have the wiggle room to say, “Oh, I wasn’t talking about anyone who is being rational about this… I was merely talking about the vocal fringe on the other side of the American political spectrum.”

In so many of the posts and views shared on socials, it’s all-or-nothing, acting like only two options exist. Either you support opening everything and returning to normal with no restrictions or changes… or you’re a fear-mongering sheep trying to destroy the economy! Either you support closing everything and staying indoors until the end of forever, or you are literally trying to kill everyone’s grandma!

A rational person might conclude, “These are complex issues, with a lot of factors, some of which we may not even be aware of at the moment. We have to make careful decisions that try to take all these considerations into account.” That usually leads to some middle-of-the-road, common ground, “I respect your stance but I hope you also respect mine, and together we should respect these facts.”

Not with the current state of the Republichurch party.

It all feels like a big game–maybe a little too much like a televangelist’s pitch. “Don’t trust THEM, they’re out to getcha! Trust me, and pray about sending me support money. They’re trying to make you afraid! I, however, am merely a humble servant sharing truth as I know it.”

Yeah, no thanks.

Yes, I see fear from the Left in the media and on socials. But I see so much more fear from the Christian Right – the very ones who in the same posts proclaim how much everyone else is motivated by fear.

“Do you know what George Soros said? Do you know what Bill Gates did? Do you know about the shadow conspiracy that’s working to take over the world and strip us all of our freedoms? YOU’RE PLAYING RIGHT INTO THEIR HANDS BY GIVING IN TO FEAR! Whereas I am sane and calm and Aware of Things.”

I like Murillo’s point that the church should be a beacon of hope for America. Would that we had more Christians in America and less political pundits—people sharing a Gospel that transforms lives instead of a diatribe that secures votes, showing the love of a transcendent God instead of blind devotion to a party or movement, souls sold out to Jesus instead of selling out to win another election.

I’m not feeling burned; I look at the Right, and I feel burned out.

Album Day 2

My wife and daughter got me doing the “post 10 albums that influenced your musical taste” thing on Facebook… but I’m much too guilty of pontificating to simply cut and paste the standard blurb. I’d rather share the story of why the song or album matters.

And so we come to the Christian Metal album:

The cover totally captured that This Present Darkness by Frank Peretti vibe, which scores it even more bonus late 80s / early 90s Christian points.

My brother was the one who had all the arguments with my parents about what was acceptable and what was not, what boundaries he could push and which were unyielding, what amount of Christian in the Christian Rock was enough to make it not just Rock ‘n’ Roll from the pit of hell.

I feel like my parents did pretty well with the information they had available to them. Like a lot of churchgoers at that time, they accepted what their spiritual authorities and mentors had to say about different trends going on among the youth, and sometimes those spiritual leaders only had the information given to them by hearsay or by a form of the telephone game… hence some of the extreme misunderstandings like “the Satanic panic” era for Dungeons & Dragons. (I talk at length about the way D&D is viewed by Christians in another post.)

Side note: we managed to get some tabletop RPG time with games like BattleTech—nothing demonic about giant stompy robots covered in lasers and missiles!—and Middle-Earth Role Playing—essentially D&D but with a d100 system instead of d20, and all set in Tolkien’s world, which was barely tolerable as opposed to blatant witchcraft or occult imagery.

Back to the Christian bands…

Stryper had some kind of non-troversy for saying things like “To Hell with the Devil” (theologically accurate, but I suppose it’s coarse language), so they were out of the question. Petra was acceptable but they were pretty chill really… sort of a (much more overtly) Christian U2, I suppose… and we wanted something heavier.

Deliverance was one of several bands my brother introduced me to, and this tape got a lot of use. In addition to the screeching guitars and echoing vocals, they had some surprisingly meditative tracks – a version of Psalm 23, and the instrumental intro song for the album.

Barren Cross and One Bad Pig are the only others I can think of off the top of my head… and also a band called Vengeance that was basically growling indistinguishable from the rumbling overdrive of their guitars. I couldn’t quite get that one, other than for comedy value.

Vengeance was basically the Christian version of the band in whichever Ace Ventura movie it was where they use the growling for comedic effect. I think that was Cannibal Corpse.

Wow. Listening to this so many years later, I am glad I left some musical choices in the past.

Albums because why not

My wife and daughter tagged me in the “post 10 songs & albums that influenced your music taste” trend on Facebook, and—although I normally resist such things—I figured I should go along. It would be a fun way to reminisce, and kind of a challenge to see if I could really narrow my choices down to just ten.

Then I figured, “Oh hey, I am wordy and rambly, and don’t just want to share a pic of the album with the same cut-n-paste blurb from the original trend. Maybe I should put this on that blog thing I continually ignore.”

Bonus: Since I’m “in a creative funk” / procrastinating / uninspired / suffering “this is pointless” syndrome regarding writing fiction, maybe this will get me putting thoughts into words into sentences into something online.

So the first choice was “November Rain” from Guns ‘n’ Roses, Use Your Illusion I. This was one of the few songs I practiced and learned during the last year or two of formal piano lessons I took between ages 5 and 13.

I loved the mix of evocative piano and Slash’s sweet guitar solos, and it was fun trying to figure out how to mimic those wildly different styles on the keys.

A bunch of those songs stick out in my head as high school favorites—mostly the ones with fun piano parts.

Off the top of my head and in no particular order: Locomotive, Estranged, Civil War, Yesterday, Live and Let Die, Don’t Cry, Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door, and 14 Years come to mind as favorites. You Could Be Mine is up there on my list too, but I didn’t realize it until Terminator 2 came out, which is one of the true cinematic masterpieces of all time.

Regrettably, while learning to play November Rain, I ignored my piano teacher’s warnings and encouragement to keep practicing the stuff I didn’t like to play—tough classical music and such. I remember a conversation with him where he said something like, “If you’re not going to practice, then I don‘t have anything else to teach you.”

Teenage Me heard the latter part and ignored the condition at the beginning of the sentence. I figured I was good enough for anything I wanted to do. Maybe I thought that I didn’t need anybody… contrary to the final lines of the song, oddly enough.

Just a few years later, I met some jazz pianists who admitted they weren’t all that great, and they were doing things on the keys that I couldn’t understand or follow. Then it dawned on me that I had so much more I could have learned. So… not just an album, but a life lesson.

Side note: My favorite song of the two albums is probably Estranged. I think it’s because (imho) it has even more variety in the musical dynamics and it also has a lot of energetic parts that I loved playing on the keys, even if they weren’t meant for piano.

Treading Water

Some days it all piles on me, I feel like I’m drowning
Can’t see the light from the depth of the pit that I’m down in
Sometimes I find it too hard – to do what I oughtta
Seems like the best I can do is keep treading water

I don’t know if I am moving the goalposts,
Or learning the rules of the game.
No surprise, ‪they don’t give points out for almost,
But they sure know how to point out the blame.
‪Not certain if I’m laughing or crying,
After a while it starts feelin’ the same.
‪Heart hurtin’, make a living by dying
Just a little day by day, it’s a shame

They all wanna talk about purpose
Make it sound like we all deserve it
But the fact is that we gotta earn it
And the story now becomes a burden
When it seems there’s a valley between
Who we are and we wanted to be
What we hope for and what we see
What we live through and what we believe
What we try doing and what we achieve

All of these dreams over which we grieve
All the memories and wake that we leave
They tell us it’s our legacy
Woven together like tapestry
But I feel more like it’s unraveled
When I see how little I have traveled
Toward the goals that were laid out for me
More like floating out here in the sea

Some days it all piles on me, I feel like I’m drowning
Can’t see the light from the depth of the pit that I’m down in
Sometimes I find it too hard – to do what I oughtta
Seems like the best I can do is keep treading water

‘Round and ‘round I go
When can I stop? I don’t know
When I finally drop, maybe? No
Maybe then I’ll find rest for my soul
Maybe then it’ll all come together
At the end I won’t worry ‘bout whether
Who I am is ever gonna measure
Up to the standard I treasure

Maybe then I will finally get it
What it means to have life and to live it
How His grace took my sin to forgive it
How my slate is now clean, can’t forget it
Maybe then I can finally stop runnin’
And the demon within will be done in
And the glory I’ll see will be stunning
With my gaze on the face of the Son In
That place that He promised will come
When this world and its troubles are done
But for now He said He gives me peace
While I’m floating out here in the seas

Some days it all piles on me, I feel like I’m drowning
can’t see the light from the depth of the pit that I’m down in
Sometimes I find it too hard – to do what I oughtta
That’s when I reach out for You where You’re walkin’ on water

But seeing the wind, he became frightened, and cried out, “Lord, save me!”
Immediately Jesus stretched out His hand and took hold of him, and said to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

My Place

As I contemplate Good Friday, and the sacrifice of Christ for the sins of the world, I thought it would be a good day to post this hymn I wrote a few weeks back.

You saw my weak and helpless state
My suffering under heavy chains
For Your name’s sake You did not wait
But took my place and bore my shame
The King of Glory scorned of men
Whose every breath belongs to Him
Yet in my sin You loved me still
And took my place upon that hill

The spotless Lamb who knew no sin
Drew down the justice meant for me
And all my guilt was laid on Him
The burden of iniquity
To You the cup of wrath did come
And crying out, You drank its dregs
And in my place Your body hung
And there You died and bowed Your head

Blessing and honor and glory be
To the One who alone is worthy
The Lamb who was slain
Name above all names
Jesus Christ, the King of kings.

You saw my full depravity
Yet looked with mercy on my need
The King came in humility
And took my place upon the tree
You bore my curse, You took God’s wrath
Reserved for me, now I can stand
In wondrous praise upon the path
From Calvary to Promised Land

Now I will bow and sing the praise
Of You who died and rose again
God’s Only Son, High Priest who saves
I’ll stand amazed and fully cleansed
Worthy of more than words can say
Be glorified eternally
I come before the throne of grace
And take my place knelt at Your feet

Blessing and honor and glory be
To the One who alone is worthy
The Lamb who was slain
Name above all names
Jesus Christ, the King of kings.

Though sun may set, and night consume
The light of hope, replaced with gloom,
The dawn will split the darkness soon.
And though in death, they thought Him doomed,
The Son arose, and from the tomb
Eternal rest and life now bloom.

Sunday is coming.

Wishing you all a safe and meaningful Good Friday and Easter Sunday.

The Magic of Moms

I’m pleased and excited to announce something that came as a surprise in an email to me a couple weeks ago:

Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Magic of Moms will feature one of my previously published stories, entitled “Thank You for Your Service.”

You can find this volume on Amazon, like virtually all things in life. It will be released March 17th, but as a contributing author willing to promote the book, I received several copies to give away.

Hmm. There is a downside to this: If I give one of these to my wife for Mother’s Day, I suspect she’ll see through the ruse. (Kidding!)

That won’t be a problem for you, dear reader. Whether it’s for a seasoned mother who has been your support and strength, a new mother who might need support and encouragement, or for one of those many surrogate mothers who come into our lives and bless us in profound ways, this may be a thoughtful and uplifting way to say thanks.

You can find my contribution in the section honoring surrogate mothers. It’s story number 76 (because America!), and is about a wonderful woman who took my family in to bless the way she would her own children and grandchildren during our brief time being stationed in Nebraska.

To all the mothers out there–whether by birth, by adoption, in spirit, or in support of someone in need–thank you all for your service, a gift of immeasurable value to the generations you lift up.

What Worship is Not

How does something hardly mentioned in the accounts of the New Testament church become a driving force that dominates roughly half of the average church gathering, and determines, for many, whether or not a church feels good or right for them?

Let’s talk about “worship.”

Our chapel praise & worship team had an after-practice discussion on worship and scripture – the first of many, hopefully. We minister in a military chapel, so there is a lot of overturn and change of leadership. The worship leader and I have only been serving for a year now, and while Bible studies were on our “to do” list, unfortunately, life and distractions got in the way.

Our worship leader asked me if I’d be willing to share to get a conversation started. I was happy to do so, and thought, “Since this is our very first one as a team, what’s the most fundamental thing to me about worship and what we do?”

Despite my opening question, there are lots of scriptures that we use to define the importance of music ministry and praise — great stories from the Old Testament such as the musicians leading the army and the enemies destroying one another in confusion; teachings on the Tabernacle of David and how that might apply to us today; all the excellent verses in Psalms; New Testament moments like when Paul and Silas are praising in prison and an earthquake throws the cell doors wide; even instructions suggesting everyone should come to church with a psalm, hymn, or spiritual song so that the body might be edified.

What to choose?

What came to mind wasn’t what I expected.

“What worship is not.”

I felt compelled to look at verses about worship… how the Bible defines it, and how we often use the term today. I’m convinced that the two are very different, or at least that we should be more careful about what we mean when we say “worship.”

There’s the oft-quoted reminder that worship comes from Old English weorthscipe, which is basically “worth-ship,” the quality of being valuable or precious. It’s an expression of how much someone or something is worth to us.  

In other words, true worship costs something.

When I look at scripture and consider the life we’re called to lead, how much of what God instructs us is singing and playing music? In epistle after epistle, Paul writes a letter to churches or leaders where he lays out some theology – some truth about what God has done and what that means – followed by practical instructions for living a life of worship. So little of those instructions are about the “worship” we cherish and esteem so highly.

Paul tells us that offering ourselves as living sacrifices is our “spiritual service of worship” (Rom 12:1). Jesus tells us that “He who has My commandments and keeps them is the one who loves Me” (John 14:21). John later reminds us that the expression of love for God is our obedience (1 John 5:3).

Singing is conspicuously absent.

Imagine if your spouse said, “Honey, I need your help. Can you please do the dishes so I can use them to cook?” Would you express love and the worth of your spouse by singing to them?

I would always do the dishes out of love for you…
I would even take the trash out to the dumpster, too…
I would pick up all the laundry ’round our home… 
This is my love for you, my love for you alone.

Or maybe just do the thing that’s been asked of you. 

If there was a pie chart for what we’re called to do to live the Christian life, singing and playing music is going to be a pretty small slice among the many more practical responsibilities of ministering to the needs of others. If we took all of the commands of Christ and Paul and others in the Bible and tried to map out what’s covered, our current idea of worship as deeply emotional singing to God isn’t going to be big on that list.

If you cooked a worship pie using the Bible’s recipe, it wouldn’t taste like music.

When handling God’s Word, there are two important terms for how we approach and interpret the text:

Exegesis is the process of getting the intended meaning from the text – reading comprehension, informed by context, scholarship, other scripture, lexical aids, and the like. “What does this mean? What did it mean to its audience?”

Eisegesis is reading intended meaning into the text – reading with a bias or preconceived notion. “I want a verse that backs up what I’m saying, something that confirms what I already think is true. Oh, here’s one.”

I found the verse that says what I wanted a verse to say!
… More or less.

Sometimes this leads to well-meaning people sharing as fact or Gospel truth what they’ve heard from well-intentioned teachers, who themselves passed on what they were told by other folks who saw something in a verse or heard something profound and adopted it as a certainty. Then no one fact-checks the familiar teaching, because why would you? 

I’m not chucking spears at any of my fellow believers. We all get things wrong sometimes, and I’ve come up with some amazingly bad interpretations of Scripture. I am trying to chuck spears at some of the phrases and beliefs we accept in the church that aren’t readily apparent in the Bible which defines our faith. 

If we’re not careful, every verse that says anything about someone singing or praising will become a new “teaching on worship,” a new “revelation about the power of praise.” Very quickly, we end up with books and videos full of exposition on verses taken out of context, all feeding our understanding of the importance of new, fresh, anointed, powerful, expressive praise and worship music, much of which pushes us toward purchasing that new song or this new album from an industry of which there seems to be no end in sight.

Cynical, I know. Sorry.

However, the plain reading of scripture to me doesn’t give singing and music the central role in the Body that we do in the church today.

I love doing it, I love being a part of it, I love leading it, I love being in the congregation during it, I love everything about it… but I have to be honest that I just don’t see it at the forefront of what God’s Word calls us to do and be in our churches and our daily lives.

There are more important matters.

For me, getting on stage and playing the piano or singing a song is either an emotional stimulant or an emotional release. I can pour out my frustrations in “worship” and I benefit greatly from it. It’s definitely not some grand sacrifice I’m making, some selfless act worthy of commendation.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful that God gives us a means of expressing our adoration and praise which is so fun and so powerfully moving. It’s just not the sacrificial, selfless lifestyle I see the Bible calling Christians to live out in the day-to-day.

I shared this with the team and my wife, and I got some very important feedback. For some people, getting on stage in front of people is really hard. Being in the spotlight when you want to shrink into the shadows is a challenge. Having to perform or speak through your fears is difficult. I respect that, and don’t want to make light of the effort those people make to serve God in music and song.

Similarly, some worship teams have far more obligation and responsibility. If you’re running the music ministry for a big church with multiple services and you’re wrangling all the moving parts and conflicting schedules, that’s work, no doubt about it. Giving that your best might be a selfless sacrifice, for sure. I don’t want to ignore that either.

My concern is more for this concept that worship – specifically singing and playing music – is the main thing, or one of the main things.

Who was a worship leader in the early church?

Ephesians 4:11 doesn’t read, “And He gave some to be apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors and worship leaders…” yet that’s a prominent role in our churches, with a whole branch of biblical teaching developed around trying to glean every insight from scripture about the power of music and praise.

Are we receiving the intended meaning from the text, or are we reading meaning into passages, hoping to find what confirms our existing assumptions?

Why don’t we read about more worship leaders in the Bible? Should I have to go all the way back to Chenaniah of the Levites in 1 Chr 15 to find someone “in charge of the singing” in corporate worship?

Arguably, Satan is another “biblical worship leader” based on some interpretations of Ezekiel 28 and Isaiah 14, but I’m not so sure scripture is clear on that. (Links to some interesting articles looking at what Scripture says, what it doesn’t, and what we might infer. Remember, exegesis is good; eisegesis is bad.)

What is the list of qualifications for a worship leader, if the office is so important? We have lists for overseers, deacons, pastors, teachers, and the like – practical instructions and standards for servant leaders who meet the practical needs of the Body.

Why doesn’t Paul give us a glimpse of what the worship leader’s role looks like? Did 100% of churches have that 100% correct, and so it wasn’t necessary in any of his letters? That would be a pretty amazing coincidence.

Again, I am not opposed to what we call worship music, and I’m sure I will continue using that term to describe it, whether out of habit, laziness, or convenience. I just got done playing some songs and singing with my wife, followed by looking into rapid paintings as expressions of worship as part of planning for an upcoming special Night of Worship gathering where all we plan to do is express our hearts to God, mostly through music and song. 

I also think there are fine “lead worshipers” in the Christian community who put some thoughtful and careful teaching out there for all the rest of us wanting to be the next Matt Redman or Kim Walker-Smith. (They’d probably respond with a teaching about “Don’t try to be us. God doesn’t need another Kim Walker-Smith. He wants you.”)

It’s just that I know my heart well enough to catch how easily I choose to “serve” in a way that I enjoy, to “minister” in a way that comes easy, to “worship” in a way that costs me nothing and actually only benefits me. 

So what IS worship?

For me, a convicting display of worship was when I chatted with my friend, a talented singer and passionate lover of Jesus who can easily hold their own belting out a beautiful melody in front of any crowd, who can expertly follow the leading of the Spirit to know what’s the right thing to say or sing at the right time, who has every reason to be up front in the spotlight leading the congregation in praise… 

And instead, they said, “There’s no one running the children’s ministry. This is a need in the Body. This is important. I don’t feel gifted in this, I don’t feel a desire to do this–but I do feel like I need to step up and serve to meet this need.”

That looks to me like biblical worship. That’s a sacrifice.

I get up to play and sing, and I feel like the rich people tossing wads of cash into the collection in front of Jesus, acting like their loose change is something special.

I’m not saying I won’t keep playing or singing songs. I just want to make sure that I’m being honest about what I’m doing, and what I’m not. 


What do you think?

Are we too focused on music when we talk about worship? Have we let new songs and emotional moments overtake practical obedience in what it means to do church and live the Christian life?

Or am I missing something crucial in the way I’m looking at this? Is there some key aspect or benefit of the songs we sing and the way we express our hearts to God which I have neglected? 

Let me know in a comment, or share your thoughts on the matter. I certainly don’t have a lock on spiritual wisdom, and I’d love to hear what God has shown you. 

Greener Pastures

You’re living your best

I’m coming apart

You’re looking so blessed

I’ve fallen so far

I’m searching for rest

For my weary heart

But I’m feeling it less

And it’s getting so hard

Watching all the socials, and I see you’re doing fine

Posting all your selfies, and your numbers always climb

Everyone likes looking at the life they want to find

No one likes relating to the people in decline

No one likes the mirror when it shows them what’s inside

Everyone would rather look for dreams they can’t define

Something better, richer, bigger, more than the next guy

A little bit more money, then we’ll sure be satisfied

A little something extra on the top of what is mine

A little fleeting sense of bliss that’s sure to fade in time

Possessions are possessing us, contentment’s undermined

We’re sure the grass is greener when we check the other side

But the image that we’re seein’ is a cover meant to hide

That what’s beyond the fence is barren, and the advertisements lied

When they’re selling us true livin’ from a place where hope has died

Spending all day

Looking through the fence at other pastures

While the opportunities to do your passion’s slipping past ya

Going astray,

Blowing off the skills that I should master

But I’m jealous of all these who do it better, do it faster

Making my way
Working toward the goals I set for last year

But the more I run it seems the finish line is moving backwards

I like to say

That I’m taking my time when I’m slow to stack words

But it’s like I’m running, sprinting on a leg that’s fractured

Time heals all wounds

That’s what they say, but I am not sure

Seems sometime soon

I’d be on my way, but I’ve still got hurt

Trying to ruin

What I dream someday will give me pleasure

With the illusion of the harmlessness of leisure

I take a measure of the distance I have traveled,

Should convince me that my dreams haven’t unraveled

But the crowd of voices in my head all babble

Like the war is over and I’ve lost the battle

Like the judge declared the sentence, rapped the gavel

On the block, we’re off the clock, this is just rabble

And it’s rousing nothing, no, at best I dabble

In the meaning of the verse with which I grapple

So I look beyond the fence for what I tell myself I need.

“If I had it good like that, then I’m sure I would succeed.”

Salvation and Saving Throws

“Dungeons and Dragons,” my friend gasped, then whispered to my son out of concern, “You know that’s demonic, right?”

I had an interesting conversation with a loved one recently. We were chatting about all manner of small-talk topics. “How’s the weather there? What have you been doing lately? I heard this new song I like…”

Then they paused, got serious, and said, “I don’t know how to say this other than to ask directly, but… David, you call yourself a Christian…”

I call myself a Christian? Oh my, where is this going, if my very salvation and my devotion to the faith I’ve held almost 40 years is in doubt?

“… But you also play Dungeons and Dragons. So, how do you reconcile these two things that are so diametrically opposed?” (I admit, ‘diametrically opposed’ may not be the exact phrasing, but I think it was.)

When my friends or family (generally older and generally religious) ask these kind of questions or make these kinds of statements, part of me really wants to ask them to describe D&D for me as they understand it. I guarantee that 95% of the time, it’s not going to line up with what I’ve experienced in fourteen years of running D&D games.

But I don’t want to come from a position of attack or put people on the defensive, so instead, I hope to share my own experiences and trust that those who know me can breathe a little easier when they understand where I’m coming from.

You call yourself a Christian.

So, first things first, I love this person dearly and I am not offended. They asked a direct and honest question from a place of concern and care. They’re going off of what they’ve heard over the years from people they trust, and if that’s all you know on a given subject, that’s the opinion you’re going to hold.

Back in the 80s, there was a period for D&D called the Satanic Panic.

Some pastors and religious figures had heard stories of kids developing an unhealthy investment into this strange game, and they delivered strong warnings to the faithful. Comics and movies were made to warn of the danger of this dark game where you pretend to be all these weird characters and you act out what they do in their fantasy worlds. Stories circulated of kids believing they WERE their made-up character, and some reports circulated of these kids committing suicide if their in-game persona died.

On top of those concerns, toss in game rules for heroes using magic powers, and a book of monsters to fight that includes demons and devils… which translated into worries that this game was a springboard into actual satanic indoctrination, a gateway to genuine witchcraft, an excuse to perform real rituals and even sacrifices, or an open door for summoning demonic spirits.

Well, who wants their kids to be exposed to all that? Point being, I understand the concern even though I believe it’s (mostly) unfounded.

Playing Pretend, But With Dice

When my brother and I were young, we would line up our toys like opposing armies on the field of battle that was his room. He was always the history buff and strategist, arranging his troops in formations and marching them against my army in organized waves – cannon fodder first, then good but expendable forces, then those he still cared about, followed by his strongest and most favorite toys. We never got that far unless he felt like having his best guys beat the mess out of mine for story’s sake.

I would get caught up in the stories between characters – the rivalries and friendships, the alliances and betrayals, the romances and battle-forged bonds of brotherhood. “My guy is upset,” I would explain, “because this other guy is in love with this lady, and—“

“Sure, whatever,” my brother would respond, “but my first wave is running into your camp carrying bombs and they just blew up all these idiots along with themselves.”

Occasionally we would argue:

“My guy beat your guy for sure, because he knows jiu jitsu and taekwondo.”

“Yeah but my guy is genetically enhanced and he’s wearing special armor that gives him faster reflexes.”

“But he can’t dodge a laser—it’s too fast.”

“Nah, he dodged it.”

“No way!”

“Way!”

Back to my phone conversation. “It’s like that,” I explained, “except there are some dice and rules to determine who actually beats up who, or how good someone does when they try something heroic. That’s really all D&D is… playing pretend with friends, and some dice, and some rules.”

“If anything,” I added, “I think that’s a bigger concern and a better argument from a Christian perspective for why D&D might be bad. Like any hobby or luxury, it can be an incredible waste of time.”

What is D&D?

“I was watching these groups play D&D on YouTube, and I’ve never played before, but I think it would be cool to try… but I don’t know how it works and I’ve never played anything like this.”

I’ve had the pleasure of running a few introductory sessions for coworkers and friends, usually as a result of a statement like the above. Where D&D was once the province of social outcasts and nerds, tabletop roleplaying games are enjoying a massive surge in popularity.

D&D and most tabletop RPGs are about collaborative storytelling. Most games have a “master” of some sort, who functions as the rules referee and final authority on what actually happens in the story everyone’s telling. (e.g. did my guy beat up my brother’s? or did he dodge lasers with his genetic enhancements, which is obvious cheating trash? Let the game master decide.)

1. Storyteller describes what’s happening.

2. Players choose an action.

3. Roll dice.

4. Storyteller determines results and goes back to Step 1.

That’s the short version of the whole game.

The storyteller or gamemaster sets the scene, describing what’s going on and where everyone is. What’s available in the room that the heroes can use? What monsters are trying to stop them? What dangers do they face, or who must they persuade in order to accomplish their goals?

“You’re in a dank cave that stinks like mildew and rotting flesh. You peer into the darkness, but without any sources of light, everything is pitch black. All you hear is the low rumble of a sleeping beast deeper inside, its billowing snores creating an uncomfortable breeze of hot moist air that smells like decay.”

The players declare what they want to do.

“I want to light a torch.” (Are you sure? You might wake the beast.)

“I want to feel around for some of the treasure we’re sure is in here.” (You might make some noise.)

“I want to whisper to the mercenary we brought from town – does she know anything about what’s lurking in this cave?” (Ah, but do you trust her? What if she lies?)

“I want to sneak toward the beast, maybe see if I can look for some weakness.”

“I think we should leave. Who’s with me?”

The storyteller asks them to roll a die and add the result to some number on their character sheet that reflects how good (or bad) their character is at the given task:

Tyrion Lannister is going to have a harder time jumping across a broken castle rampart than Jon Snow.

Frodo Baggins will struggle to lift heavy rocks to find his buried friends, but Boromir and Strider can toss stones with ease. (But not a dwarf; no one tosses a dwarf!)

Tony Stark can come up with the secret of time travel over a cup of hot cocoa, but Groot is never going to succeed no matter how well the player rolls.

Then the process repeats, and hopefully, a thrilling story develops.

No one has to show up dressed like their character, though some gamers find that fun. Depending on your group, some people will talk “in character,” maybe affecting an accent or memorable speech pattern. For some players, it’s fun to come up with an extensive backstory – all the details of their character’s life and previous relationships which might come into play during the course of the group’s game.

Some players contribute to the story and the heat of the moment by going in-depth with their descriptions of the fighting style of their hero or the way divine might radiates through their holy symbol as they call upon higher powers. My son (who was warned about the demonic nature of D&D) made his character a Christian and quoted scripture in-game, as part of his character’s story and his personal preference.

For others, simple is fun. “I am Barg. Barg is strong. Barg smash everyone bad.”

You Write the Script Together

Think of Game of Thrones. A lot of fans were upset with the final season. It wasn’t even just complaints that this or that character didn’t win and take over as King or Queen. Many fans complained about plot threads that got left out, or plot twists they felt hadn’t been built up in a way that made sense.

Wouldn’t it be great if you could put your own spin on the story?

If you’ve ever really gotten into a TV series or movie to the point that you care about the characters and what happens to them, imagine helping tell the story of what happens next and deciding how your heroes should respond to the challenges that come their way.

That’s what a good game of D&D is: collaborative storytelling. The players and the storyteller all have input into what happens and how the story progresses. It’s like a group reading of an old Choose Your Own Adventure book, where everyone takes turns making decisions and every page has a thousand options.

Admittedly, some groups will put objectionable content into their games, just like some movies are too dark or disturbing for certain viewers. Game of Thrones certainly wasn’t for everybody, either.

Like any hobby, some things can be taken too far. As Christians (and I think as people in general), we should be careful about what we dwell on and how much we get invested into our interests.

Reconciliation

As I said, I have no ill will over being asked “As a Christian, how can you justify playing D&D?” I think there are valid concerns that should be taken into account, as with all the ways in which we spend our time, our resources, and our energy.

I can take a step back and consider, “Am I just making excuses? Am I lying to myself about this? Am I ignoring conviction?”

I’d like to think that people with no experience with the game can also take a step back and consider whether what I’ve described from firsthand experience is the dangerous deception they’ve been led to believe it is.

Like D&D, life works best when we can hear each other out, find common ground, and collaborate to make it better.