Staff Fellowship (or lack thereof)

Two posts in one day? Oh, yes I’m doin it. I actually wrote the following last Sunday night, but didn’t post it because I was a little angry when I wrote it. But the same things happened tonight, and I find myself feeling much the same as last week, so I’m gonna go ahead and throw this out there:

Sundays can be hectic days for the music staff here at Camp of the Woods. We rehearse before the Sunday service, play for the service, then rehearse for the Sunday evening concert of praise and worship. For a few, (including me) there’s also usually a small jazz combo rehearsal in order to prepare a jazz rendition of a hymn to perform on Sunday nights which we never have time to work on until Sunday afternoon. On top of that, at the end of the concert, we have something called staff fellowship, which is a required worship service just for the staff. As you might imagine, music staffers are usually unexcited for this mandatory service. Tired and often hungry, bad attitudes run rampant.

Last night’s service was no exception. I think that what makes this time particularly grating to the highly trained musicians here is the fact that the worship at staff fellowship is led by music hobbyists who are full time staff in other positions and volunteer their time to serve by leading worship at this event. Schedules are full and practice time scarce, so the music is usually pretty rough. It is admittedly distracting at times, but God meets people who come ready and hungry for intimacy with him, regardless of the quality of the music.

How can a perfectly just and holy God allow dirty sinners into his presence? Grace. Worship is such a gift, and we can’t afford to lose sight of that. (Check out Hebrews 10, especially v19-25.) Today I found myself looking around at many of my colleagues on the music staff during worship and seeing them either trying to conceal their laughter or mocking the staff onstage with sarcastically jubilant gestures. It made me angry, and I think at least to some extent, rightfully so. How can we, as the community of Christ, mock each other for what gifts we have or have not been given? Why should someone who has freely given of themselves in service to the body and to the Lord have their offering technically analyzed by “a professional?”

Most importantly: How can anyone who has been given a gift strictly by grace mock someone else who is gifted differently but freely serves the community of Christ? It’s as if a poor man brings what little he can afford as a gift, while a rich man who gives nothing mocks it. This has helped me realize that it really doesn’t matter what I can do musically or intellectually; if I forget for even one moment that everything I have is a gift—by grace—from the Lord, then my accomplishments, my talents, my skills, my ideas—it will all be for nothing.

I am not innocent of this brand of pride. I frequently forget that my gifts are not my own. I sometimes think that because I play better than someone else I am somehow more valuable. But this is such a worldly view. How quickly I lose sight of the fact that God looks at the heart.

It is important to recognize that in trying to fight this spirit of pride, it is easy to be lulled into a pattern of false humility. It’s easy to judge people who are struggling when you’re not. It’s easy try to find some self-satisfaction in the knowledge that you’re not guilty of this sin (at this particular moment). It’s easy to judge in a moment of strength someone struggling in weakness. I’m praying that Jesus will keep me in a spirit of true humility, and that every time he and I hang out, he’ll remind me of what is not really mine.