The Gift of Gathering

After a long hiatus I have finally returned to the gym – or health club, as I believe it is now known. I am grateful to be getting my body back into some sort of shape, and for the time to get out of my head for a while each day. One thing that has struck me about the health club experience, though, is how very individualistic it all is. There are always lots of people around when I go there, but each person is doing pretty much their own thing – often listening to their own personal soundtrack on an Mp3 Player. This is appropriate behaviour in a health club, after all. We all have different fitness needs, and we don’t really need too much interaction to get our bodies strong and healthy.

But, for a spiritual journey this individualistic behaviour is not appropriate – although the way we “do” worship or church or spirituality in general may not show that we know this. All too often our churches are nothing more than congregations, rather than communities. All too often we slip into a pew, sing as softly as we can without looking out of place, bow our heads at the right time and then slip out again as quickly as we can when it’s all over. Unfortunately, what brings great benefit in a health club brings the opposite in the spiritual life.

In spite of the popular views of spirituality that make it about selecting your own particular preferences and following your own way along your own particular spiritual path, all the time-honoured spiritual teachers and traditions indicate that spirituality must lead us into relationships with others. On our own we never have to face the things about ourselves that we don’t like. On our own we may never realise the habits and ways of being that hurt others or put people off. But, it doesn’t take too long in true community to find ourselves getting frustrated, or to be faced with someone whom we have offended, and be forced to work it out. That’s why in one form or another, love is the primary commandment of all religions. We cannot grow as people, or in our relationship with God, without other people and without working out how to interact with, respect and give dignity to others.

And this is one reason that Christian worship always begins with the act of gathering. It is important, for our own spiritual health and that of our companions, that we make the effort to get up, make ourselves presentable, and trek off to some place where we will meet together. It is important that we greet one another and consciously recognise the other people who share the worship space with us. While the introvert in me loves the idea of a quiet sanctuary where I can slip in, close my eyes and pray as I wait for the service to start, I have had to learn that this is not how worship was done in the Scriptures, or even in the history of the Church. While there is a place for quiet preparation, much of that can and should be done alone, at home, before moving toward the gathering. Once we arrive at the church, though, we need the call of community to touch us and engage us if we are to truly experience the worship our souls need.

So, next time you go to church, won’t you go with the conscious intention of gathering – reach out to your companion worshipers, and, if you don’t know them, introduce yourself. Let’s gather on purpose as people who share a longing for God, and who can help each other along the way.

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John van de Laar is a Methodist minister, liturgical consultant and the author of the book Food for the Road – Life Lesson from the Lord’s Table. He holds a Master’s Degree in theology from UNISA, and is the founder of Sacredise.com, an international worship training and resourcing ministry. John is married to Debbie, and they have two sons.

Visit www.sacredise.com for more articles by John, as well as resources for personal and public worship – music, prayers, liturgies, images and drama scripts.

Faith passed down

I was talking to my children the other day and made reference to McGyver, the “fix-anything-with-nothing” television character from the 80s. They looked at me with blank faces and asked, “Who’s McGyver?” I was reminded of how easily the stories and ideas of one generation fade and are replaced by new ones for new generations.

Unfortunately, this seems to happen way too easily in the realm of faith as well. Don’t get me wrong, I believe that faith - both personally and in community - grows and develops over time, and so I am not opposed to new expressions of faith or new ways of thinking through issues and ideas. I believe that new movements in faith like the Pentecostal and Charismatic revivals of a few decades ago, and the Emerging Church movement of today, give us valuable and important gifts for the development of our faith.

But, I also believe in the faith that is passed down. I believe that all new expressions of faith need to be rooted in the ancient community of believers, and in the lessons that are taught by its history. I am reminded of Paul’s words to the young pastor Timothy when he described Timothy’s faith:

“I'm reminded of how sincere your faith is. That faith first lived in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice. I'm convinced that it also lives in you.”

Timothy’s faith was not a completely new thing, unrelated to those who had come before him. On the contrary, Timothy had a faith that was passed down - rooted in the faith of his elders. As fashionable as everything to do with youth may be in our world today, our faith is shallow and poor if we ignore the stories and memories of our elders. And those among us who are advanced in years, have a responsibility to pass our faith down - through our example, our story-telling and our mentoring. This does not mean that youth has nothing to offer - it certainly does, and I will explore the gifts of youth in a future article. But it does mean that we must be careful to preserve the treasures of our past as well.

When worship is practiced thoughtfully and faithfully, it gives us a connection to this faith-history. Our ancient hymns, well-used liturgies, historic symbols and age-old rituals all open doors to the wisdom of our mothers and fathers in faith. Yes, these traditional worship elements can be “packaged” or expressed in fresh new ways, with new instruments and new technologies, but let’s never make the mistake of abandoning them. As the old saying goes: “Those who fail to learn the lessons of history, are doomed to repeat them.”

So, who are the mothers and fathers of your faith community? How can you value their stories and memories better? How can you enable them to pass their faith down to new generations? What are the ancient practices of your church? How can you honour and preserve them? What “packaging” can you given them to make them more attractive to the young people who need to learn their lessons? And when the time comes, how can you pass your faith on to others, so that they too can enjoy the benefits of a faith passed down?

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John van de Laar is a Methodist minister, liturgical consultant and the author of the book Food for the Road – Life Lesson from the Lord’s Table. He holds a Master’s Degree in theology from UNISA, and is the founder of Sacredise.com, an international worship training and resourcing ministry. John is married to Debbie, and they have two sons.

Visit www.sacredise.com for more articles by John, as well as resources for personal and public worship – music, prayers, liturgies, images and drama scripts.

Worship for the long haul

It’s an instant world we live in. If our needs aren’t met immediately we get frustrated. Longevity has lost it’s attraction. We upgrade our cell phones every two years wishing it was sooner. We measure companies quarterly, and we choose our activities by the instant rush we hope to receive. It’s an instant world, which has given us so many benefits, but there’s a sting in the tail.

In the realm of spirituality, ‘instant’ doesn’t cut it. If we want a deep and fulfilling relationship with God, if we long to grow into the people we are meant to be, if we hope to make a positive difference in the world, this is going to take time and commitment. In spite of the promises in the books on the self-help shelves, no one becomes whole, healthy and spiritually strong overnight. And when I read a review of a book that promises to teach its readers to meditate like a Buddhist monk in just 30 days, I can’t resist the sorrow that floods me. I weep for those who sell themselves short by treating their most authentic selves, and their connection with the creator, like something you buy at a fast food outlet.

Unfortunately the culture of the instant has infiltrated our churches. While I love contemporary worship music, I worry when the music becomes the focus of our efforts. I love technology and I believe in using it in worship, but I know how seductive it can be, and how it can divert us into instant gratification, rather than the long, slow road of spiritual development. When we measure our worship by the goose bumps we feel, or by how well the band mimicked the latest worship CD, or by how dramatic the video production was, we have missed the point. We may feel an instant reward, but our souls have suffered the malnourishment of spiritual fast food.

At the start of a New Year we have a wonderful opportunity. We can make a commitment to long haul spirituality. Instead of measuring our worship by the weekly experience, let’s commit ourselves to waiting until the end of the year. And then, let’s judge our worship by how we have changed - by how we have become a little more like Jesus in his love for God and the world. Each week as we come to worship, let’s open ourselves, not to the instant gratification of a thrilling experience, but to the slow nurturing of a weekly discipline that will, sometimes, be thrilling, but, sometimes challenging, and sometimes just quiet and ordinary.

At the start of the New Year is a good time to reaffirm two profound truths about our worship. First, worship is not about what we do in church, but about how what we do in church changes the way we live when we’re not in church. Second, worship is not a weekly “fix” to uplift us and carry us through the week until our next “fix”. It is a discipline that we embrace with commitment and faithfulness, so that, through repeated practice over time, we are changed so that the world is better off for our presence.

Now that’s a resolution worth making.

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John van de Laar is a Methodist minister, liturgical consultant and the author of the book Food for the Road – Life Lesson from the Lord’s Table. He holds a Master’s Degree in theology from UNISA, and is the founder of Sacredise.com, an international worship training and resourcing ministry. John is married to Debbie, and they have two sons.

Visit www.sacredise.com for more articles by John, as well as resources for personal and public worship – music, prayers, liturgies, images and drama scripts.

Christmas Eyes

I love the story of the shepherds in the Christmas narrative. To begin with, they find themselves in a very ordinary situation - out on the hillside, while everyone else is in their warm homes asleep. But, then, suddenly, the whole scene is unexpectedly changed. Radiance surrounds them, and they’re seeing angels, receiving messages, and even hearing choirs. No wonder they were afraid. They were terrified not just for their safety, I bet. They must have been frightened for their sanity!

I can’t imagine what they actually saw, or what the experience really felt like for them, but as Luke recounts the story, we find the angel speaking, and it’s an almost ridiculous message. “Don’t be afraid!” he said. “I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Saviour - yes, the Messiah, the Lord - has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David!” So far so good. But, then he goes on: “And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger.” (Luke 2:10-12 NLT). The shepherds must have been looking for the hidden cameras right about now. Someone who is called “Saviour”, “Messiah” and “Lord” is going to be found in a feeding trough? This is not the obvious place to look for a child of significance at all.

But, here’s where I am challenged by the shepherds. They make the choice to open their eyes and see this coming of God’s Messiah into their world. They somehow have the eyes to look beyond their expectations, their stereotypes about wealth, celebrity, status and importance, and see God in this most unexpected of places. They have the humility to believe that someone of significance can appear in a place that feels completely insignificant. They have the capacity to embrace the ridiculousness of the message, and find the glory in it - and as a result, they become the first witnesses to God’s miraculous incarnation.

The Scriptures are always calling us to this kind of seeing, this choice to open our eyes, and, with childlike wonder, find God where God (according to our sensibilities and expectations) shouldn’t be. The incarnation of God in Christ is not really a surprise when you trace God’s presence through human history. In truth, God has always been appearing, coming, incarnating in all sorts of ways. For those who were willing to let their usual way of seeing go, God was happy to speak through donkeys, appear in smoke and fire, and stillness, and be revealed in outcasts, foreigners and ‘sinners’.

God almost seems to take great glee in hiding from us in the most unexpected - and offensive - places. Perhaps this is because until we can find God in the places we believe God has forsaken, we haven’t really known God at all. And when we can see God’s presence in feeding troughs and insignificant villages, in babies and teenage mothers, we can suddenly see God everywhere. The entire world becomes filled with incarnation - with God revealed and present and working in every person and place and moment.

May our celebrations this year teach us to see the world with Christmas eyes, and to recognise God in every one of what Mother Teresa called his “distressing disguises”.

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John van de Laar is a Methodist minister, liturgical consultant and the author of the book Food for the Road – Life Lesson from the Lord’s Table. He holds a Master’s Degree in theology from UNISA, and is the founder of Sacredise.com, an international worship training and resourcing ministry. John is married to Debbie, and they have two sons.

Visit www.sacredise.com for more articles by John, as well as resources for personal and public worship – music, prayers, liturgies, images and drama scripts.

A Model Of Manhood

It grieves me that it is necessary to have an annual 16 Days of Activism for No Violence Against Women and Children. This year's campaign ended last week, on the 10th of December, but, as Jennifer Thorpe argued in her excellent article on the Mail & Guardian's Thought Leader Blog, we really need to think about "What Happens on Day 17". Enter Joseph in this week's Lectionary reading from Matthew 1:18-25.



Too many men have justified their violence with lame excuses that sound plausible only to themselves and other abusers - "You betrayed me!"; "Why are you looking at that other guy?"; "Why don't you submit to your husband like the Bible says you should?". (It is a source of deep grief for me that the Bible could ever have been allowed to be interpreted in a way that subjugates, dehumanises and abuses women. But, it has been - and in many corners of our globe continues to be - used as a weapon to defend a violent and corrupt patriarchy).



In the narrative of Jesus' death, Joseph could have used all of these excuses and more - and would have been supported and even applauded by his culture and his law. He could have taken the route of "righteous abuse" - of public humiliation of Mary, of public divorce - which, almost certainly, would have left her destitute and homeless, of public execution by stoning. But, he does none of this. He treats her with respect and dignity and compassion - even before the dream which confirmed her unlikely story. He protects her, and looks to her best interest, even at his own expense and reputation. Joseph is the exact opposite of a patriarch. He is anything but an abuser.



In the face of this dramatic and powerful example of gentle, masculine strength, there is no justification for any form of oppression of women by any man who claims the name of Christ. In fact, I would go so far as to say that for anyone to attempt to use the Bible to do even the slightest harm to a woman or a child is not just wrong. It's heresy.



So, for those of us who are men who follow Christ, there is a challenge here. This Christmas, I think it is safe to say (if general statistics are to be believed), women will be doing the bulk of the cooking, cleaning, gift wrapping, shopping and preparing for the family Christmas celebration. Many women will be making huge sacrifices for their children and husbands, while experiencing little if any of the "joy to the world" that this season proclaims. We can change this. If every man simply took the time to share in the work of this season, to take special care of the significant women in their lives, and give the gift of a promise to protect and honour them throughout the year, we would be creating a massive amount of healing. If we refused to laugh at misogynistic jokes, and refused to stay silent in the face of exploitative advertising, dehumanising business practices and soul-stealing abuse, we would be making some of the "peace on earth" a reality for the women among us. May Joseph be a model of manhood for us this Christmas season.

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John van de Laar is a Methodist minister, liturgical consultant and the author of the book Food for the Road – Life Lesson from the Lord’s Table. He holds a Master’s Degree in theology from UNISA, and is the founder of Sacredise.com, an international worship training and resourcing ministry. John is married to Debbie, and they have two sons.

Visit www.sacredise.com for more articles by John, as well as resources for personal and public worship – music, prayers, liturgies, images and drama scripts.

Advent Irony

It’s common, in this Festive Season, to hear people of faith complain about the consumerism, the materialism, the commercialism, and all manner of other “-isms” that abound at this time of year. We long for people to see the real “reason for the season” and to slow down enough to be open to receive the God who comes to us in Advent. Am I the only one who sees the irony here?

I have been part of the Church for pretty much my whole life, and in active ministry for more than half of it. I have served in a number of different capacities, organisations and denominations, and I have been connected with a number more. If there is one thing I have always been amused and challenged by, it’s our capacity to miss the point of our own message – and Advent is no exception.

It is common at this time of year for Churches to pull out all the stops and go to great lengths to create the most vibrant, dramatic and impactful expression of the Christmas story we can. I know this because I’ve been doing it for two decades. But, ironically, even as we point to the simplicity of the Christ Child born in a manger to parents of modest means, we may be tempted to shun all simplicity in the creation of our celebrations. As we praise God for coming to us in unexpected ways, in ordinary places and people, in surprising moments of peace, joy, love and hope, we may easily find ourselves so rushed and busy that we have no time to actually experience the presence of God that we proclaim. As we speak about the importance of following this Christ in ways of love and sacrifice, we may be hard pressed to avoid excess in our end-of-year parties, our gift buying and even in our Christmas services.

Not all of this is bad. It is a good thing to celebrate and to mark significant moments in special ways. It is good to be reminded of the joy of giving gifts and to have opportunities to worship with great creativity. If, however, our celebration leads us to be less mindful of the Child we celebrate, we have no right to protest at the inappropriateness of the celebrations around us.

I’m reminded of a story I once read about a proud couple who invited family and friends to a party to celebrate the baptism of their new baby. The special event happened in the midst of a very cold winter, and as the guests arrived, their coats were thrown on to the bed in the master bedroom while they enjoyed the warmth of the celebration. After some time someone mentioned that the baby, whom they all come to see, was strangely absent. After a few minutes of searching, the parents discovered to their horror that the child was lying under all the coats on the master bed – now dead from suffocation.

The point is clear. Whatever we may be dealing with this Advent, however we may choose to celebrate the coming of the incarnate Christ, let us not get so caught up in our busyness and creativity that the simple reality of God’s presence is lost to us. May our eyes and ears and hearts remain ever open – especially as we worship – to the God who is always available to those who seek.

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John van de Laar is a Methodist minister, liturgical consultant and the author of the book Food for the Road – Life Lesson from the Lord’s Table. He holds a Master’s Degree in theology from UNISA, and is the founder of Sacredise.com, an international worship training and resourcing ministry. John is married to Debbie, and they have two sons.

Visit www.sacredise.com for more articles by John, as well as resources for personal and public worship – music, prayers, liturgies, images and drama scripts.

Removing Our Labels

We live in a label-heavy world. It can sometime feel like everyone is checking to see what car you drive, what clothes you wear, where you shop for your food, and what kind of computer you work on – and should have chosen the wrong label, you are seen as somehow less. But, it gets worse. Once we have chosen our labels, we begin to define ourselves and our relationships by those labels. We associate with people who carry the same tags on their stuff as we do, and we separate ourselves from those who have different tags. We have special clubs for different makes of cars, different clothing stores, and different kinds of technology. We wear our labels like merit badges.

Of course, our labels extend to other parts of our lives as well – and here it can sometimes get very destructive. We label ourselves by our skin colour, our gender, our language, our culture, our nation of birth and our sexuality. And sometimes, as the recent xenophobia in South Africa has shown, our labels lead us to violence.

I wish I could say it was different in the Church – especially when it comes to worship – but it’s not. It’s not so much that there are different denominations or traditions that worries me – no more so than that there are different brands of clothing or cleaning fluids. It’s that we begin to label ourselves by our denominational, theological and stylistic names, and then separate ourselves from one another. We define ourselves as traditional or contemporary, liberal or conservative, charismatic or evangelical, orthodox or reformed, emerging or mainline. And then we look at those who carry different labels and view them as somehow less – less spiritual, less Christ-like, less worshipful, less holy, less honest, less committed. We even bring in some of society’s labels for good measure – pro-choice or pro-life, pro-gay or anti-gay, pro-evolution or pro-creation – and on and on it goes.

But, in this Advent season, a strange thing happens. We read of a coming King who is called the “Prince of Peace”. The forerunner – John the Baptist – invites all people into the water together, and we know that Jesus (with complete disregard for how it might look) will join the masses in getting wet. In this week’s Old Testament reading Isaiah envisions a world where wolves and lambs lie down together, and children play safely with snakes. And the Apostle Paul, describing how both Jews and Gentiles have found a home in God’s Kingdom, encourages us to accept one another as Christ has accepted us.

The biblical word for this kind of world is Shalom. This is more than just the absence of conflict. A shalom world is a world of compassion and justice, of well-being and safety for all, of togetherness and mutual respect, support and care. And it is this Shalom that we celebrate in Advent and Christmas. It is this Shalom that we sing and pray about every Sunday. And if we really believe in Jesus’ message of a Shalom world, then sooner or later we will have to face the truth – it’s time we removed our labels.


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John van de Laar is a Methodist minister, liturgical consultant and the author of the book Food for the Road – Life Lesson from the Lord’s Table. He holds a Master’s Degree in theology from UNISA, and is the founder of Sacredise.com, an international worship training and resourcing ministry. John is married to Debbie, and they have two sons.

Visit www.sacredise.com for more articles by John, as well as resources for personal and public worship – music, prayers, liturgies, images and drama scripts.