This week is different, I'm posting a story that Michele wrote as a result of a dream she had. I think you may find it very interesting.
The Dream
In my dream, my friends and I were excited to visit a new
worship center. We arrived early and stepped eagerly from our cars mesmerized
by the grandeur of the place, sprawled out before us on pristine manicured
lawns and gardens. We stood in awe of the marbled tones of the building with
towering and ornately carved columns supporting the portico. Here, valet
parking was not the exception, but the rule. A massive sea of people brushed
against us. Busily they came and went being ushered through the great hall
entrance and tiled corridors. Everyone's faces smiled and glowed with delight.
They too were mesmerized by such regal surroundings and with each other.
Polished leather laced up tightly and tailored, buttoned vests made the men appear
stylishly handsome. Ladies of all sizes were adorned in large plumed hats and
silk dresses. Everyone beamed from ear to ear with anticipation. Curiously,
there were no children.
Surprisingly, my friends and I passed with great ease through
the maze of people and found our way to seats in the main worship center. I was pleased to find a multicultural center
with its stage already teaming with singers and prayer warriors while others formed
circles to dance together in the aisles. Ladies in white robes chanted and sang
in a different dialect, which concerned me at first. As I listened closer, I
became excited because they were not merely rambling strange sounds but they actually
sang in Hebrew, the mother of all languages.
Men in Victorian coattails raised gloved hands high in the
air as they stood on the multi-level steps of the platform to offer prayers to
those in need. Huge, colorful banners of silk and linen lined the walls.
Monitors of many different shapes and sizes were strategically placed
throughout the entire facility so that no one would miss any happenings on
center stage.
My eyes darted from one side of the room to the other trying
to absorb all of the activity and scenery of the massive sanctuary. My
attention soon turned to polished serving trays being passed from one row to
the next that carried a communion of delicate wafers and crystal stemware
filled with wine. Many in the room took the remembrance,
as some sat with heads bowed and others humbly knelt on the floor in front of
their seat. I became frustrated, because in that moment a pause should have
been taken and reflection been giving on what and why this ceremony, yet most
of the room refused to cease its noise and distractions. Those of us who wanted
to pray were interrupted by relentless chaos. People did not stop their
singing, shouting and lively conversations.
People still moved all around the room even though ample seating was
provided. As I studied closer, different
areas of the room began to illuminate and I saw that around the perimeter there
were grand buffet tables each with a designated white-gloved butler ready to
serve the patrons from silver pans steaming with hot food. The room buzzed
loudly with jumbled conversations, while silver tongs clinked against fine
porcelain china. People laughed and talked while having their plates piled
high, again and again. Still I observed there were no children.
I waited for the corporate worship where the body in one
voice sings out praises. I waited for
the sermon to commence to encourage the believer and bring the sinner to
repentance, yet neither happened. Everyone was busy doing their own thing in
their own way. The activities of singing, dancing in the aisles, loud
conversations and continuous eating became overwhelming. Then everything ended
rather abruptly with ushers who flashed wide smiles across their faces and
pointed to the left. The crowd moved in the same direction as we were all
ushered out of the area through the side doors to exit the campus via the gift
shop.
Like a grand bazaar, there were booths, tables and polished
glass display cases. Trinkets sparkled in the cases casting prisms of colors
around the room. Fabrics in varying styles and materials draped mannequins and
clothing racks. Gold clocks were displayed on ornately carved boxes near the
four chairs lined ready and quietly waited for anyone who wanted to have their
hair done. As we pushed our way through this new chaos, I soon found myself alone
in my attempts to escape the madness. Sadly my companions were being absorbed
by the trappings of the bazaar and were soon transformed into shop owners
peddling their wares.
Though the dream was vivid and quite strange, it disturbed me
enough to try to put it all down on paper. I am sure my words hardly do the
dream justice, but there are images that have disturbed me.
Is this what is to
become of our churches today? Are we meeting for a grand celebration of
ourselves and what we have built? Have we become so engrossed in the huge
facilities and ultra-modern conveniences that we have lost sight as to why we
are there? Are we the white washed tombs Jesus referred to? Do we come with our
white gloves and plumed hats in celebration of ourselves? Are we at this place
of worship because that is where all of our friends are or have we come to this
place of worship because the Truth is being taught and lived out and where
souls are being saved?
In my dream communion was served and observed by some, but
not all. Many people were too busy in the “act” of worship making sure they
were noticed for their chants and dances. That saddened my heart. The time of communion should be precious and
sweet as we observe what Christ did for us on the cross. In reality there are
those today that would rather whisper or scroll though screens on their phones
or other electronic devices rather than take the time to acknowledge Christ for
who He is and what He has done for all of us that we might have forgiveness and
restoration to the Father by His sacrifice. We all fall prey to our enemy’s
attack of distractions. I want to be focused and my thoughts purposed so that
my heart and mind are in true worship of Him and His sacrifice. Worship is
never about me; it’s all about Him.
I am sure that would be a sight to see if we showed up for
worship and found buffet tables all around filled with our favorite delicacies. Worship is not about satisfying our physical
state. We come to feed on the pure Word of the Lord and drink of His living waters
so that our spirits will be refreshed and strengthened for the battles we must
face. We come to hear words both of conviction and encouragement. We come to
honor and celebrate our Heavenly Father and rejoice over those being saved.
I visited a group once that had a small café at the entrance
of their meeting place. Everyone was welcomed to have some coffee or a pastry
and take a few moments to visit with each other. I liked the idea, especially
if I were running late and missed my breakfast. I also liked the idea that a
stranger might feel more at ease talking over a latte. I was saddened later
when during the worship service I noticed a man singing praises only to stop to
take another sip of his creamed coffee before he continued the song. Have we really become that casual with God?
What about reverence?
Where is the true worship when we are more concerned about
our espresso than singing out our praises?
The gift shop was an interesting feature in the dream. I like
shops, especially the ones off the beaten path where wonderful treasures await
discovery. But would we really turn our worship center into a marketplace? In
the Bible we can read where the Jews did and it made Christ so angry he turned
over their tables and chased the merchants away. Are we the merchants trying to
“sell our wares,” our beliefs that may be contrary to what is valuable and
important? Do we come to worship with a shopper’s mentality picking out only
certain aspects that make us happy and leaving out others because they are too
inconvenient or convicting? The enemy will always try to dazzle us with
sparkling trinkets to take our focus away from the One of true value and worth.
Christ is the treasure that we seek.
I suppose the strangest element of the dream was the
corporate worship setting without children. It made me think of our own
children who are the voice for the next generation in the world. They will be
the ones to carry the banner of Christ to the lost and dying in sin. Isn’t
worship both personal and together as a family? We should hold them close and
let them see and experience our worship of God.
My prayer is that we
will show them what true worship is really all about whether we are gathered
together in a corporate setting or in the privacy of our homes. When we rise up and when we lie down and all
the time in between may we be teaching our children the love of Christ and how
to truly worship Him in reverence and humility and also with joyful
celebration.
