I've returned to reading Finding Our Way Again: The Return of the Ancient Practices by Brian McLaren not only because I owe Thomas Nelson Publishing a review, but because I'm yet again in a phase of transition within my faith journey. I'm on Chapter 12 ("Communal Practices") now, and I will get back to blogging my answers to the questions at the end of each chapter, but while reading this chapter, I immediately got out of bed to write through some of these thoughts. Later this week, I will be guest blogging for Rachel Held Evans on my visit to a faith community very different than ones I've belonged to, but for now, I want to work through some points and excerpts from this chapter that quickly engaged with my mind and spirit.

First off, I'm finding it difficult to engage in formal Christian community these days. These are my own problems and not the fault of my or any other church, but at least within my church there is an on-going seismic event that has had more subtle effects than I think people I expected. I am evaluating in what ways I need to participate within this, but McLaren discusses worship in a way that I find intriguing for, if not convicting of, my thought process:

Singing is so familiar in our churches that I fear we are missing what a miracle it is. First, singing involves our bodies.... Second, it involves our souls.... Third, it involves a text, sometimes (though too rarely) a beautiful poetic lyric. Fourth, it involves a score, sometimes (again, too rarely) a beautiful artistic score. Fifth, that score engages instruments.... Sixth, it often involves parts.... And finally, [singing] involves other people - many voices, one song. Think of it: bodies and souls, people and instruments, texts and notes, men and women and children, Republicans and Democrats, liberals and conservatives somehow coming together in the miracle of a song or hymn. Figuratively as literally, songs harmonize us, which is why they are such important communal spiritual practices. (pp. 105-106)

No matter what I believe on a particular issue, no matter where I stand in a conflict of justice, worship - and in particular singing communally - is the opportunity to join in unity through expressing worship to God. Whether that is true unity, or not, is a different story, but it is certainly the opportunity, and the onus is on me to participate, or not.

But I fall short of this, yet my growing suspicions and discomfort of the typical American church is not a sufficient excuse to recluse myself of the community of faith, especially as I desire to participate in a more diverse community of faith within and beyond the local church I have chosen to participate. Along those lines, McLaren provides this insight:

As well, songs (like acts of romantic affection) simultaneously express and intensify emotion. Sadly, the singing in some of our churches expresses a range of emotion that runs from B to C (bored to complacent), but the Bible takes us from A (angry) to F (fervent) to J (joyful) to L (lamenting) to N (nostalgic) to R (restful) to X (er, exalted) to Z (zealous). I'm glad to report that people are beginning to notice the narrow range of songs used in so many of our churches, whether they be "traditional" or "contemporary" or "blended," and even better, they're starting to write new songs that more fully explore and express the spiritual life in both content and emotion. (p. 106)

Here's the moment of truth: do I really want a diverse worship experience that can or does go from anger to fervency to joy to lamentation to nostalgia to rest to exaltation to zealousness? At first blush that would be an emotionally exhausting experience, but what about over the range of a month or a liturgical season, or the entire liturgical year? Usually I want to rush to joy and nostalgia in worship, but is my soul nourished by ignoring the anger I am holding securely and privately? Can we be a diverse community of faith if we don't allow room to share our complaints to God around each other, or describe what drives our fervent energy, yet give room for those seeking people rest?

If I'm honest, I still want to be surrounded by like-minded, like-feeling, and like-expressing people if there is any chance I would put myself in a position of vulnerability. But that leaves little room for the miracle of the communal practice described above. So where does this discussion lead? Find a community attempting to approach communal practices by actively seeking this miracle or be an advocate of change within the community I am in now?

Am I sincerely willing to do either?