Standing Awestruck or Standing Awkward

We were playing Engage 24 this evening from 7pm to 8pm. It was meant to be a chilled out set. Rick and Jason lead on acoustic guitar and vocals. Kathryn was on keys and adding in backing vocals. Buff was working the magic on the bass and I was trying to keep up on sax. I usually love playing chilled out stuff. Playing at Engage 24 is always good because those that are there in the congregation are there because they want to be there; they’re not there because of some notion that going-to-church-makes-me-right-with-God.

Tonight was different. Tonight was difficult.

During the prayers I couldn’t concentrate – I heard to the words but my mind wouldn’t listen to what was being said, if you know what I mean. During the music my playing was stilted and sterile. Rather than praising God with my breath and my fingers, I was trying my best simply to find a note that worked. It was more than just that my playing was rubbish… it was like I couldn’t play. I don’t know what that means…

Towards the end of the session I set my sax down but I didn’t join in the singing. I couldn’t join in the singing. “You’re all I want / You’re all I need / Help me know You are near.” While I don’t doubt that I needed to prayerfully sing that, I just couldn’t. I don’t know why…

Buff was standing beside me the whole time. He is a man who I admire more than almost every other man I have ever met. Why? Because of the way he praises God and because of the way he talks to God. When Buff sings, he sings. Screw whoevers listening – he’s singing to God and he knows God listens. Eyes closed, heart opened, fingers walking the bass or hands raised up in worship. To me it screams true devotion, true love, a longing for more, a never ceasing thankfulness. I want what Buff’s got…

Then, when he prays he talks as though there is no one else around. Even if someone else is praying, Buff speaks out in agreement. Eyes closed to shut out distraction. Hands either on his heart or raised because he knows to whom he speaks. When I watch him pray I see a man who trusts God unconditionally, a man who has a faith more solid than rock, a man who knows The Awesome as Abba yet who recognises Abba as The Awesome. I want what Buff’s got…

I wish I could be like that with God. I wish I could just raise the proverbial finger to the feelings and whispers of those around me and focus solely on God. I want to know Awesome as Abba… I want more… I want to be able to raise up my hands in awe. I don’t want to ever be standing awkward in the presence of God again. It’s so lonely.

Free Trade v. Pay-Per-View Football

As I type I’m sitting watching Manchester United at home to Newcastle United and Wayne Rooney has just scored a belter of a goal to make it 1-1. (It really was a cracking goal: outside of the penalty box, on the volley to the top left-hand corner of the net.) The commentator proceeded to remind the viewers that Manchester United paid £28 million for the young striker.

Think about that… £28 million for one man.

This morning in church we were hearing from a representative from Christian Aid. She drew the congregation’s attention to the awful state of the two-thirds world due to Free Trade. To read more about the problem and Christain Aid’s proposed solution, visit their campaign page.

The statistics, although quoted often, are still startling:

• 32,000 people are expected to die today simply because they were born poor;
• 3 children die each second due to preventable diseases like malaria and measles;
• Many people with HIV/AIDS are unable to afford basic drugs that would improve their quality of life.

… and those are but three statistics.

For the majority of people on this planet life is one long struggle. Death is a release. Death is freedom. Surely that is not right. Surely that shouldn’t be. There are people on this planet who earn less that £1 a day, which goes to feed a family, and there are others on whom £28 million is spent simply so that they will entertain us by kicking a ball up and down a field of grass.

How inhumane we humans are. How selfish, how uncaring, how evil.

I want to ask God why He doesn’t do anything about this but I don’t think that’s fair. We have created this problem and we continue to exacerbate the problem. We are the ones responsible for sorting it out.

What a responsibility…

Doctrine & Theology

Last night I was chatting to Ormo on Messenger and he informed me that the Mormons finally came to his flat. Well, it was only two Mormons that came. Interestingly, they just “showed up” with very little warning. I think Ormo had been expecting them for some time but they hadn’t shown. Then, without warning, they just turned up… leaving no time for Ormo to gather his thoughts. (In fact, I think he was washing dishes when they arrived.)

After talking for a while, the conversation was concluded and it was arranged for the Mormons to return in a week… with a friend. Ormo, not wanting to be 3-to-1 down, kindly invited me to sit in. I really hope to make it but I have two large assignments due the morning after and my dissertation oral the afternoon before. I am very interested in hearing what the lads have to say… but in the same breath, so to speak, I am very apprehensive.

Mormonism is a cult. Let me be blunt: mormonism is not Christian. Furthermore, it is not considered to be Christian by any of the major Christian denominations. That said, mormonism is subtle… for those uninformed or ignorant of true Christian doctrine, mormonism can “appear” to be Christian. They use the same words in more-or-less the same order. They have the same practices of going to church, praying, etc. But the meaning of the words they use is incorrect and the god to whom they pray, sing, worship was conjured up by a 14-year-old boy in the woods one day as he was trying to decide which Christian denomination he should join. That boy was called Joseph Smith Jr.

Now, I do not have a problem with mormons; rather, I have a problem with what they belief. While I don’t doubt the sincerity of any mormon’s faith, I do doubt that in which they place their faith and the doctrine surrounding that faith.

If anyone reads this who believes in the one true God, please pray for me. Pray that Ormo and I will remain true to our faith and that the night won’t degrade into a hostile argument. Pray, too, for the lads that are coming round: pray that they will be open and accept the possibility that they might be wrong. Pray that God, YHWH, would open their eyes… then that they would see… then that they would act on what they see…

The craic was good but the less said about the waitress the better…

Last night was great! Jenna, Dave, Mark, Buff, Ormo and me headed to the Metropolitan Tabernacle to hear Brother Yun, author of “The Heavenly Man”, speak. The dude didn’t speak a word of English so, as he spoke in Chinese, his Romanian/German/Eastern Bloc interpreter (we couldn’t decide where he was from) translated for us into English. The interpreter was class! Oh, yeah… as was Brother Yun’s message.

Well, to be honest, I stuggled with his message. He talked about a wee girl falling five stories on to a pile of bricks and, despite “half her brain falling out of her head,” lived. He talked about having to flee China (because of his miraculous escape from a maximum security prison (his only crime: believing the Gospel)) and his mum dying while he was out of the country. His wife phoned him to let him know. He told his wife to put the phone to his mother’s ear (she was in an open casket) and he proceeded to should down the phone into his dead mother’s ear: Jesus loves you; get up, in Jesus’ name; etc. Is this divine healing or raising from the dead? I mean, the Jews believe (or at least believed) that the soul “hung around” the body up to three days after death. After the three days were up, the soul went for good. (Hence one of the proposed reasons Jesus delayed going to Lazarus.) I’m not saying I disbelief Brother Yun’s story – I believe in a sovereign and omnipotent God – but why doesn’t that sort of thing not happen here in Northern Ireland? Is it down to lack of faith? I mean, is it simply because that we don’t believe that God still raises the dead that He refuses to do so in our midst? Or, is it because healing, say, the rash on my shin won’t display the glory of the Son of God? (Why didn’t Jesus heal anyone else beside the healing pool? Why didn’t God remove Paul’s thorn in the flesh? Why doesn’t God remove the rash on my shin?)

I have fewer problems with Yun’s message than I do with the service held in the Met. I’d been thinking about it for a while and talked about it with a couple of people but this was the first time I’d actually experienced it. It was very “showy,” if you’ll permit me that word. For example, Mark pointed out how many of the songs were about raising our hands up – at which point the entire congregation except from our row raised up their hands. (Talk about feeling uncomfortable!) Don’t get me wrong, I’ve raised my own hands to God before… but not during a song that talks about Jesus in the third person. (Some songs are merely for the edification of the church rather than the praise of the Almighty!)

Then came the video camera. Buff was at the isle seat in our row and the video camera (which I think streams to the God channel on Sky) was aimed squarely at his face with the rest of us in the background. Distracting? Buff thought so. As did Dave and Mark. It didn’t bother Jenna and I as much because we were at the other end of the row… but still we were uncertain about the usefulness of the camera.

Argh, the worst thing for me was when Pastor McConnell (I think that’s his name) proceeded to command that we put our hands out in front of us before we prayed. Emm… I don’t think any further ranting on the hands-issue is needed. You see my point, right? Showy.

There was an altar call towards the end of the service that seemed more like an auction. “Can I get one more?” “Will anyone else give their life to the Lord?” “I feel there is one more.” “Come on, now. Quickly and quietly raise your hand.” “Give me one more.” This proceeded for more than five minutes. The total number of raised hands was 23. 23!!! And that was at a midweek service. Now, I rejoice when people are saved and when people recommit after a time of backsliding, but my question is where do all the bodies that these raised hands belong to go? The Met has a reputation for a lot of people raising their hands, wanting salvation, at each service. But, as Mark pointed out, the church-going population of Belfast is in decline… you do the math!

Okay, enough about the Met and my problems with it…

We headed out to Cafe Renoir after for some ice cream, italian cheesecake, banoffi (that’s banana-and-toffee, for Dave), drinks, chocolate sundaes and a hug. Yes, that’s right. The short waitress had the hots for Buff and proceeded to ask for a hug. Buff, being the gentleman that he is, conceded and gave her a hug. (Although, Mark is adamant that she was simply reaching round Buff to touch him.)

Ack, the craic was great. We had quite a spectrum of topics covered in the conversation: from Billy Connolly skits to divine healing; from a comment by an atheistic anthropologist to an attempted exegesis of the phrase “blasphemy of the Holy Spirit”; from the theology behind God dwelling in the praises of His people to the function and location of the persons in the Trinity.

Definitely a night to remember and to repeat!