Rejoicing with those ...

Rejoicing with those . . .

Mother's Day is fast approaching and I am in the midst of preparations for our church's Mother's Day luncheon.  It will be held on the day before Mother's Day and as I am the leader of our women's ministries program at our church, the task of arranging this special event is left to me and our ladies' council.  It is an event I always enjoy and one which brings a lot of delight to a lot of ladies.  But let's get real, some ladies will not attend this special event, because not everyone enjoys Mother's Day.  For the lady whose mother has passed away, it can be a sad day filled with longing for their mom.  For that lady who has born a child and lost that child to death, it can be filled with terrible pain.  And for that woman who has not shared in the experience of motherhood, but who has longed for it, there can be deep sadness.  While it is uncomfortable to express it in words, not having had a very "mothering" mother and having lost her 9 years ago, I experience more than a twinge of sadness in my heart every Mother's Day.

As a pastor I am very attuned to the fact that there are many in our churches who do not look forward to this yearly celebration of motherhood, but I have to ask the question, because not everyone feels supremely happy on the day our nation has set aside to honor mothers, does that mean we should forgo the celebration altogether?  Should I ignore the holiday because I might make someone in my congregation feel slighted by acknowledging there are those who have reached that status?  Take that sentiment to its natural conclusion and there would be almost nothing we could celebrate within the church.

This brings me to the real point of my concern, I simply find it disturbing when I learn of someone who claims to be a disciple of Christ but who uses their disappointments to excuse them from rejoicing "with those who rejoice." (Romans 12:15)  Please know I am not referring to those who may have suffered a recent loss - and who just cannot bear to attend church on Mother's Day because their pain is so fresh - because I also believe we must "weep with those who weep."  However, for that one who is determined to see every event in life through the eyes of their own disappointment and who refuses to affirm the joy of God's blessings in others because they have not experienced it for themselves or because they have suffered a loss, they are at the very least casting aside joy in their own hearts and at the most are stealing joy from their fellow believers.

It is a sad day in the church when we cannot have a celebration for fear someone will feel slighted because they are not included in their fellow believer's achievement.  The definition of jealousy, according to the online dictionary, is "resentment against a person enjoying success or advantage, etc., or against another's success or advantage itself."  Let's get real for a minute and realize that if I am so covetous of someone else's status or blessing that I cannot smile or celebrate their achievement, or at least sit quietly by and allow them their moment, I probably need to do some serious attitude evaluation.  The selfishness of the world that has bullied itself into our lives under the banner of "political correctness" has moved dangerously close to the sanctuary when pastors are told what they should and should not say or do based on whose feelings are going to be hurt if they point out a group to which we might not belong.   Life's not fair, but I'm pretty sure the Word of God never promised it would be.  I'm also pretty sure Jesus never required His disciples to make certain they never made anyone feel uncomfortable.  (I wonder how the disciples of Jesus felt when He said of John the Baptist "that among those born of women there is no one greater?"  Did one of them whine, "But I wanted to be the greatest!")

Am I to avoid ever mentioning my status as a mother because there could be a barren woman standing near me?  Does that also mean I never introduce myself as a minister or as "Mrs." Garner?  We don't help the body of Christ when we refuse to assimilate ourselves into the life of the body because we dwell in our difference instead of embracing our unity.

I suppose I am naive, but as I get older I am increasingly saddened at those who call themselves disciples of Christ but refuse to examine their own hearts in order to make decisions necessary to draw closer to the Lord.  But for these who stubbornly cling to the "tent of carnality" in which they have enshrined their hearts, I am not just saddened - I am downright afraid - mostly because of the damage they leave in their wake as they refuse to yield to the truth. 

Should pastors be fully aware of all those who might not feel included in the celebration of Mother's Day?  Absolutely.  Should they help them through whatever pain they are experiencing?  Most certainly.  However, I cannot agree with those who would have the pastor create an "all-inclusive" ceremony or ignore the holiday altogether in order to assuage the feelings of those who cannot allow others to rejoice in their presence.

When will we dance?

And David was dancing before the Lord with all his might, and David was wearing a linen ephod. So David and all the house of Israel were bringing up the ark of the Lord with shouting and the sound of the trumpet. II Samuel 6:14-15

    Growing up in the Nazarene Church, I did not witness very much in the way of emotion in our church services.  Of course, there were frequent tears and an occasional raising of hand (emphasis on singular intentional).  However, seldom did I witness anyone get so blessed they shouted or ran the aisles.  In fact, I cannot remember anyone doing that.  My father took our family to a Pentescostal church once, and my first glimpse of what we might now term “charismatic,” scared me to death.  Coming from my sedate Nazarene church, well, let me just say for most of the prayer my heart beat triple-time and I am certain my eyes were like saucers, especially when I thought the people behind me were going to leap headlong over the pew in which I was sitting.  As I grew and had the opportunity to visit different churches (most of them Nazarene), my experience changed as I witnessed some shouting, loud choruses of “Amens!” and an occasional “Hallelujah!”  As a student at Trevecca, there was a precious little lady at Nashville First Church, who I thought must be 100, who would step out into the aisle on occasion and throw her hand in the air (handkerchief held high) and do a little dance up and down the aisles when she got excited. 

     While I do not know what your experiences have been, I would guess if you have been in many churches or watched any “televangelism,” you have seen an occasional display of extreme emotion.  And while some of what we have witnessed may have been “for show,” I question whether many of us in the Church today know how to handle our emotions in church at all anymore.  In our quest for always “being appropriate,” I wonder if we have not gone way too close to the other extreme and become too “controlled.” 

     I am not suggesting there is anything wrong with keeping our emotions in check when we get blessed necessarily.  But is it at all possible that in our effort to avoid drawing attention to ourselves in worship we have also made ourselves invisible to the Holy Spirit?  Can it be possible that in our effort to have church on our terms we have forgotten what worship is?  Warren Wiersbe says worship is: the believer’s response of all that they are – mind, emotions, will, body – to what God is and says and does.  Is it possible to focus so hard on disengaging our body from the process of worship that we stand more proud than worshipful?  In our quest to go unnoticed by the people around us, do we sacrifice humility and brokenness and the Spirit’s ability to do what He desires within us? 

     We have said so many times lately we are longing for a revival in our church and in our nation.  Can you imagine revival coming in the midst of a people who concentrate so much on keeping public displays of emotion out of the anointing?  

     When I consider what we are told in I Samuel 13, when God rejected Saul as king and had in mind to place on the throne a “man after His own heart,” who we know turned out to be David – and when I further consider how David danced for joy before the ark as it was returned to Jerusalem, I can only wonder what it will take to be so filled with that kind of joy I would dance before my King.  When it comes, will I be so concerned that I’m not a distraction to the people around me and that I not draw attention to myself that I refuse to abandon myself to the joy of worshipping the Author of that joy, or will I “cut loose” and worship Him like He’s the only One watching?