I’ve always hated the following way some preachers (and other public speakers) begin a talk:
Preacher: Good morning!
Congregation (weakly): Morning.
Preacher: Oh, let’s try that again. You can do better than that! Good morning!
Congregation (stronger): Good morning!
After being thoroughly chastised for not being excited enough, the audience repeats the greeting a little louder.
I guess what bothers me is the implication that we all need to be cheery and excited and full of faith and ready to conquer the world.
Frankly, that’s just not the case for many of us in the room. In fact, it may be the opposite. It may be that being at the end of our rope is what brought us here to church in the first place.
I’ve always felt that our churches need to acknowledge the hurt in the room on a given Sunday morning. After experiencing three deaths of my loved ones in the past four years I believe it even more.
And as Mother’s Day approaches and I remember my mom’s 10-year descent into Alzheimer’s and all that entailed…as I recall her death and having to tell Dad…as I look at her photos and remember her as she was before that evil disease hijacked her brain and body…I feel this pain even more and feel strongly that churches should address the pain in their midst. Mother’s Day is not just about honoring the moms in the room but should also be about acknowledging the pain in the room from all the missing moms.
Almost half of the Psalms are songs of lament—expressing our pain and suffering back to the Lord without sugarcoating it. Henry David Thoreau said it well: “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” Can we not acknowledge this better in our services?
Keith and Kristyn Getty explain their approach to leading worship with these thoughts in mind:
We sing, as the Psalms train us, to help us bring all of our lives,
failures, successes, losses, gains, dreams, and ambitions into gospel perspective. Our singing can prepare us for every season of life, and sustain us through every season of life. We don’t need a musical escape from our lives; we need to gaze on the Savior of our lives—our refuge and help and comfort.
(From Sing!: How Worship Transforms Your Life, Family, and Church by Keith and Kristyn Getty, p. 47.)
What do you think? Should our churches do a better job of acknowledging the pain in the room? And if yes, how so?
Update: After I wrote this post, I came across this from Facts & Trends on how churches should handle Mother’s Day.