Front Row Energy
During my recent visit to Seattle, I saw the Kenny Chesney/Zac Brown Band in concert at Lumen Field, where the Seattle Seahawks play football.
I bought a ticket for the "Sand Pit," the General Admission, the standing-room-only area right before the stage. By carefully working my way to the front, I got behind a group of young women who were right against the barricade, separating the stage from the crowd.
They were there primarily to see one of the opening acts, Megan Moroney, who I can best describe as Taylor Swift for the country music-loving, mini-skirt-and-boot-wearing female crowd, which was well-represented at the show.
The young women in front of me sang every song Moroney performed, word-for-word, dancing and screaming intermittently when she passed in front of them on the stage.
At one point, Moroney reached down and grabbed the hand of one of the young women, who then turned to her friends, screaming and holding out her hand, seemingly contemplating whether she would ever wash it again after the encounter.
Their joy was infectious. I found myself smiling and living vicariously through them a bit. I had never heard any of Moroney's music but soon found myself singing along with the catchy choruses that my new neighbors shouted joyfully.
After Moroney finished her set, I asked my new friends if they would let me move to the front against the barricade for the Zac Brown Band part of the show. They were more than happy to do so, and I found myself closer to the stage at a show than I had been in over thirty-five years.
Then it was my turn to lose my mind as I sang at the top of my lungs, took amazing photos, and acted like a fool the whole Zac Brown set.
My friends who gave up their spot sang and laughed along with me, and when I caught a drumstick launched into the crowd by the drummer, they jumped up and down with glee, high-fiving and cheering me on.
There's a reason why seeing bands or artists play live is my happy place. It's more than just the music, even though the music is what brings me there. It's the communal experience, the camaraderie, and the joy that can be shared by strangers who gather to sing, dance, and find unity together.
Sometimes, it feels like a church service to me.
Because I am working during almost every worship service I attend, I don't ever let go entirely and become an actual participant. Don't get me wrong, I love leading worship, preaching, and being with my congregation, but I'm never merely a participant.
But when singing and high-fiving the people around me at a concert, I feel a joy that can't be replicated elsewhere.
It makes me realize how important it is to create space in worship services where people can transcend the moment and find inspiration, joy, and togetherness with those around them. They should leave feeling as if they experienced something they can't replicate.
Church should not be boring.
It doesn't have to become mere entertainment to not be boring. When that line is crossed, and worship leaders become self-indulgent, the congregation can feel that as palpably as they can when it's done to glorify God and lift up the adherents who gather.
But no matter what style of worship, church services should be engaging, energetic, inspiring, unifying, and imbued with a power that can only be described as Spirit-filled.
For my part, I feel more dedicated than ever to making that happen in my little corner of God's kingdom. And I also want to challenge my congregation and readers to come to worship expecting to be a part of something transformative.
May we all dedicate ourselves to becoming communities of joy and praise, spreading our positive energy to everyone who gathers with us.
And may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with us all, now and forever. Amen.
Comments
Post a Comment
Thanks for leaving a comment! If you comment Anonymously, your comment will summarily be deleted.