10:15AM.
It’s go time.
The pastor ascends the steps, checks to make sure his pants are zipped, and then stands behind a pulpit, podium, or whatever is up there and he begins to welcome people to the church.
He’s got a minute and twenty seconds.
The congregation greets one another…but only for about a minute and the praise team starts playing music. They’ll play a couple songs and maybe share a bit of Scripture. They’ve got a full eight-forty this week for their set.
The final song closes out, they call up ushers to collect the offering while someone is waiting in the wings to begin their special music. The whole thing shouldn’t take but about three minutes and forty seconds.
After this the preacher will jog up the stairs, get behind pulpity thing, and preach for a cool 38 minutes. We all know he’s going to go over—that’s what preachers do, and so in our minds we are planning for 45 minutes.
Closing song. 4 minutes.
A few announcements and a quick dismissal should fit everything in that we had desired to accomplish AND get us out in time to beat the Methodists to Denny’s.
As one of those instrumental in planning this thing, I’m happy with all of the smooth transitions and how everything flowed together. The way I’ve explained it might make it seem a bit more unspiritual than it really is. Though, I’d say some churches put things together about the same as a rock concert—I’m not into that. But I do want to maximize the time that we have together. I do believe that it is a general principle that someone’s ear won’t last longer than their rear-end.
But I can’t shake Psalm 46:10.
Be still and know that I am God.
Charles Spurgeon once said, “Quietude, some men cannot abide, because it reveals their inner poverty.” Is it possible that our dread of “dead” moments says more about our hearts than it does about wanting to make sure the service flows smoothly? Are we running away from these “awkward moments” because we cannot abide the quietude?
Surely there is a place in our service to foster this precious discipline of quietness and solitude. We think of planning our services like building something with LEGO. We base what we are building on the text of Scripture for that week. And so we think about through the different elements of worship and try to build something cohesive. In future services I’m going to make times of quietness and solitude one of those LEGO bricks.
What better place to learn how to be still and know that He is the Lord than on a Sunday morning when we are trying to accomplish so much in such a short time frame.
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Photo source: here
I think that was originally the idea behind the prelude time, wasn’t it? I wouldn’t mind seeing that make a comeback :0)
But even a prelude isn’t silent and stillness. It’s the same way with the Lord’s Supper when we play music with it. It’s like we are deathly afraid of silence in the church.
I think a better translation is “stop striving” and know I am God. It has more to do with God’s sovereign power and relying on Him rather than our own devices. It doesn’t really mean have some quiet time.
Similarly, people talk about God’s “still, small voice” and His “whisper” forgetting that His voice ALSO shakes the very foundations of the earth.