Less Filling
Why are you here, I keep thinking as I stare out at the crowd.
To get your fix and leave?
To do your duty and move on?
Because you don't know how else to spend your Sunday mornings?
Because you don't like Sunday morning newstalk shows on TV?
Because you've been everywhere else and we're the only place that "sorta" fits?
Because you lived rough during the week and want to 'get right' at least once before you start over?
What does this all mean to you, I start to think.
Am I just perpetuating empty spiritual exercises?
Am I alone in wondering, 'where's the passion?'
Am I alone in wondering, 'is this all there is?'
Where does real passion for God come from? I don't mean that, "Oh, sure, I've got passion, so I'll serve with children once a month" kind of passion. I mean that passion that completely drives us...consumes us...envelopes our thoughts...shakes us to life...moves us to act...and causes joy to overflow and sorrow for the lost to overwhelm...
That kind of passion. Not to just come and sit and learn and sing and talk with friends. But to acknowledge there is nothing more important than this thing in the entire world. Not the service. Not the building or the scripted things onstage. But the encounter...our relationship with God...a relationship that ought to be invigorating us to reach people, to tear down barriers, to nearly jump out of our chairs with joy in knowing we're loved by God and can be used by God. Radical is a good word.
Passion that won't tolerate petty frustrations or arguments or malfunctions among friends. Passion that overcomes and works through disagreements on how to do things. Passion that drives forgiveness and real communication. Passion that won't guilt-trip, condemn, or allow anger to fester too long...ever. Passion that drowns out the things in life that try to drown us from the inside out...
I don't even know how to say it...all this is just more talk.
As always, I just want this whole thing to be real...for all of us.
I want to smash the windows. The congregation's asleep.
I want to feel the wind blow and let the spirit free.
I can't, I can't stand to sit there where their God is pocket-size.
I want to feel what's real and will not compromise.
This rage I blaze inside me
Into the empty sky out there,
When I feel that sorrow burning like a rescue flare,
I fear there's nothing to believe in. Nothing that would care.
And the fire of desperation,
That's my silent prayer.
That's my silent prayer.
That's my silent prayer.
- David Wilcox (folk guitarist), "Silent Prayer"
To get your fix and leave?
To do your duty and move on?
Because you don't know how else to spend your Sunday mornings?
Because you don't like Sunday morning newstalk shows on TV?
Because you've been everywhere else and we're the only place that "sorta" fits?
Because you lived rough during the week and want to 'get right' at least once before you start over?
What does this all mean to you, I start to think.
Am I just perpetuating empty spiritual exercises?
Am I alone in wondering, 'where's the passion?'
Am I alone in wondering, 'is this all there is?'
Where does real passion for God come from? I don't mean that, "Oh, sure, I've got passion, so I'll serve with children once a month" kind of passion. I mean that passion that completely drives us...consumes us...envelopes our thoughts...shakes us to life...moves us to act...and causes joy to overflow and sorrow for the lost to overwhelm...
That kind of passion. Not to just come and sit and learn and sing and talk with friends. But to acknowledge there is nothing more important than this thing in the entire world. Not the service. Not the building or the scripted things onstage. But the encounter...our relationship with God...a relationship that ought to be invigorating us to reach people, to tear down barriers, to nearly jump out of our chairs with joy in knowing we're loved by God and can be used by God. Radical is a good word.
Passion that won't tolerate petty frustrations or arguments or malfunctions among friends. Passion that overcomes and works through disagreements on how to do things. Passion that drives forgiveness and real communication. Passion that won't guilt-trip, condemn, or allow anger to fester too long...ever. Passion that drowns out the things in life that try to drown us from the inside out...
I don't even know how to say it...all this is just more talk.
As always, I just want this whole thing to be real...for all of us.
I want to smash the windows. The congregation's asleep.
I want to feel the wind blow and let the spirit free.
I can't, I can't stand to sit there where their God is pocket-size.
I want to feel what's real and will not compromise.
This rage I blaze inside me
Into the empty sky out there,
When I feel that sorrow burning like a rescue flare,
I fear there's nothing to believe in. Nothing that would care.
And the fire of desperation,
That's my silent prayer.
That's my silent prayer.
That's my silent prayer.
- David Wilcox (folk guitarist), "Silent Prayer"
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