I found one of my favorite churches this week.
As I mentioned last week, Liz and I traveled home from North Carolina on Sunday, so in order to make the trip less stressful, I decided this week's church visit would happen Wednesday night at Duck Methodist Church in the Outer Banks.
And what a night!
The service can be broken into three distinct parts: The music, the message, and the details. Let's get the details out of the way.
I originally chose Duck Methodist because their building is on the sound (sorta like being on the beach), and I thought we might get a glimpse of the sunset as we worshipped. Unfortunately, they didn't use their main sanctuary (which Liz and I snuck into after the service. Very cool room). Instead, the Wednesday evening service took place in a rec room type of area.
We were greeted outside by the pastor and inside by an official greeter. Both men were very friendly. Immediately, I could tell the atmosphere was much more laid back than what I am used to. Maybe that had something to do with being in a vacation spot; maybe it was simply the nature of a midweek service. Either way, I loved it.
It had the vibe of a church plant. Not polished, but relaxed, friendly, and fun. Here is my advice for church planters (feel free to take it or leave it): Don’t try to be Willow Creek. Don’t try to be flawless or perfect. You will fail. Play to your strengths. Keep a sense of humor. Don’t apologize for being rough around the edges. Use the messiness to your advantage. Build relationships and make newcomers feel like welcomed guests.
The service had all kinds of flaws. Lots of little bumps in the road. But for some reason, I didn’t mind. The people were incredibly friendly. No one panicked when something weird happened. And the pastor seemed like a great guy.
The room sat about one hundred people (in cushioned folding chairs), and it was packed full. In fact, one of the snags was that they ran out of seats, so they just went and got more in the middle of the service. No big deal.
Pastor Ray welcomed people, and since I told him we were from Ohio when he greeted us outside, he asked everyone in the room from Ohio to stand up. There were about eight of us. Next, a handful of people from Pennsylvania were asked to stand up. Then, people from Ghana! I suppose there were a couple of women visiting from Ghana. Normally, stuff like that would have annoyed me, but it didn’t that night. I did feel singled out at first, but since there were so many new people, I didn’t feel alone.
I even liked how their sign out front specifically told people to, “Come as you are.” Duck Methodist went out of their way to welcome newcomers. Of course, being located in a vacation hot spot, it makes sense to be incredibly welcoming, but why did I have to travel seven hundred miles to feel like a church wanted me to show up at their service? Even churches in Cincinnati can, and should, go out of their way to create that welcoming atmosphere (and some do … just not many like Duck Methodist). There, they expected new folks to show up, so they didn’t treat me like I had two heads when I walked through their doors. Do you anticipate new people at your church anymore, or is it a shock when an unfamiliar face appears? Because when everyone is shocked to see a new person, that new person can tell.
After introductions and greetings, the band led worship. Which leads me into part two.
Wow. I am having a hard time finding the words to describe the worship experience. Is incredimazingtastic a word?
It started pretty normal—a couple of electric guitars, drums, singers. Average stuff. Talented folks, but nothing overly special. Then, song two began. They played Stand by Me.
Oh, I thought, this is kinda cool. I was just talking about playing secular music in church, and here we go. Sweet!
But things turned sour very quickly. Stand by Me turned into this (to the same beat):
“So Jesus, Jesus, stand … by me. Oh, stand, by me, Lord. My Lord and Savior, stand by me.”
And so on.
And then, How Sweet It Is to Be Loved by You, turned into:
“When the Lord has come, and I know He’s near … I wanna stop and thank you, Jesus. I wanna stop and thank you, Lord … How sweet it is to be loved by God.”
I applaud the effort, but please don’t do that to a cool song. Remember last week when I realized God is everywhere, all of the time? Well, he bolted for the car during those two songs.
Then, just when things couldn’t get any more amazing, during the How Sweet It Is song, they kept flashing a picture of a giggling Jesus on the screen:
Amazing, right? But not nearly as amazing as when they starting flashing pictures beside his head of banana splits, chocolates, and baked goods.
Simply amazing.
I’m still not sure if it was real or a joke, but either way, kudos, Duck Methodist.
The band also played God of Wonders, which might be my favorite worship song. Not sure why, but the melody and lyrics combine to always get me:
The prayer following worship was great, they collected an offering, and then we moved on to part three of the service: The message.
Someone read from the Book of Job, and then Pastor Ray stood to discuss God’s answer to Job’s questions. (If you don’t know the story, basically, Job was as close to perfect as someone could be, but bad stuff started happening to him. God and Satan watched to see how he would respond to living a blameless life, but suffering terrible tragedies.)
Pastor Ray’s message was one of the best I have heard all year. I really liked him a lot. He seemed genuine, kind, and very wise. He focused on answering the question, “Can I trust God?” Which, for most of us, is really the key question, isn’t it? I know it is for me. Almost all of my issues can be boiled down to that one question. Do I trust God, or will I continue to rely on my own strengths and abilities?
He talked about how we grow up being taught people should be rewarded for doing good and punished for doing bad. Remember when you would bring home an A on your report card? Ice cream and new toys surely followed. But when you brought home an F, it was a different story. Chores, no dessert, maybe you even got grounded. We grow up thinking, “If I can just do everything right, God will reward me. And if I avoid screwing up, God won’t punish me.”
So, we get pissed off when life isn’t fair. “Why me?” we cry out. “What did I do to deserve this?” we scream.
I didn’t deserve to lose my job, or watch a loved one die from cancer, or get cheated on. Ever asked the question, “Why do bad things happen to good people?”
Pastor Ray said, “The problem was, Job’s question to God (why me?) was about justice. God’s answer was about omnipotence.”
In other words, we are limited in our ability to see the big picture. God is not. How many times have we cried out for immediate answers and heard nothing? But then, years later, the story makes more sense. Three years after a relationship ends, you think, “Thank God I didn’t marry that person.” In the moment, we rage against God because it feels like he doesn’t care or is out to get us. But time gives us perspective.
Pastor Ray asked an interesting question. “Why else would we be good if we didn’t expect things to go our way?” Think about it. Are we so conditioned to seek rewards and avoid punishment that our actions are based solely on outcomes? What if you knew there would be no punishment for cheating on your wife? Would you remain faithful? What if you knew there would be no accolades for volunteering at church? Would you still show up? I know people who advertise every positive thing they do. I struggle with that constantly. Do I act only to get rewarded?
The problem with that mentality should be clear. What happens if you stop getting rewarded? What happens to your faith if you volunteer at church every week, and then you get cancer?
My faith plummets when life doesn’t go my way. A lot. When I struggle financially, I think, “Well, screw it, I’m going to stop being generous.” When I struggle relationally, I think, “Fine, I’ll just go sleep with a hundred different women.” When I get a bad course evaluation, I want to quit teaching. When people criticize my writing, I want to give up. When someone with less talent gets more attention, I shake my fist at God. (As if I’m going to hold God hostage or something. How silly.)
“What happened to fairness?” I scream.
But if life really was fair, I would be screwed. Royally. Because, to be completely honest, I am a bad dude. Evil. Conniving. Some of the thoughts that run through my brain … disgusting. Some of the things I have done … dreadful. Some of the things I will do today … twisted. Some of the things I will do in the future … morbid.
If life was fair, my life should be in shambles. And maybe it will someday. For now, I can’t rage against God when life doesn’t work out perfectly and ignore him when I reap his undeserved blessings. It’s childish to do so.
This really struck me Thursday when Michael Jackson died. Many people focused heavily on the ways in which he had screwed up, as though his mistakes should have kept him from the world’s love. Or, more importantly, God’s love. That is a scary thought. I didn’t know Michael Jackson. I do know he had some issues. Not because of what I saw on television, but because he was a flawed human being. Just like me. Just like you. I don’t condone criminal activity, but I also can’t condemn people because they fall short of perfection. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the reason Jesus died on a cross is because we all fall short.
When we begin to forget that simple fact, we’re in some serious trouble.
As Saint Thomas Aquinas said shortly before his death, “All that I have written seems to me like straw compared with what has been revealed to me.”
The seventy minute service concluded with communion and one final worship song. Then, Liz and I did get to watch the final few minutes of the sun setting. Not a bad way to spend a Wednesday evening in the Outer Banks.
Twenty-six churches down; twenty-six churches to go. We having fun yet?
JOIN THE CONVERSATION
As I mentioned last week, Liz and I traveled home from North Carolina on Sunday, so in order to make the trip less stressful, I decided this week's church visit would happen Wednesday night at Duck Methodist Church in the Outer Banks.
And what a night!
The service can be broken into three distinct parts: The music, the message, and the details. Let's get the details out of the way.
I originally chose Duck Methodist because their building is on the sound (sorta like being on the beach), and I thought we might get a glimpse of the sunset as we worshipped. Unfortunately, they didn't use their main sanctuary (which Liz and I snuck into after the service. Very cool room). Instead, the Wednesday evening service took place in a rec room type of area.
We were greeted outside by the pastor and inside by an official greeter. Both men were very friendly. Immediately, I could tell the atmosphere was much more laid back than what I am used to. Maybe that had something to do with being in a vacation spot; maybe it was simply the nature of a midweek service. Either way, I loved it.
It had the vibe of a church plant. Not polished, but relaxed, friendly, and fun. Here is my advice for church planters (feel free to take it or leave it): Don’t try to be Willow Creek. Don’t try to be flawless or perfect. You will fail. Play to your strengths. Keep a sense of humor. Don’t apologize for being rough around the edges. Use the messiness to your advantage. Build relationships and make newcomers feel like welcomed guests.
The service had all kinds of flaws. Lots of little bumps in the road. But for some reason, I didn’t mind. The people were incredibly friendly. No one panicked when something weird happened. And the pastor seemed like a great guy.
The room sat about one hundred people (in cushioned folding chairs), and it was packed full. In fact, one of the snags was that they ran out of seats, so they just went and got more in the middle of the service. No big deal.
Pastor Ray welcomed people, and since I told him we were from Ohio when he greeted us outside, he asked everyone in the room from Ohio to stand up. There were about eight of us. Next, a handful of people from Pennsylvania were asked to stand up. Then, people from Ghana! I suppose there were a couple of women visiting from Ghana. Normally, stuff like that would have annoyed me, but it didn’t that night. I did feel singled out at first, but since there were so many new people, I didn’t feel alone.
I even liked how their sign out front specifically told people to, “Come as you are.” Duck Methodist went out of their way to welcome newcomers. Of course, being located in a vacation hot spot, it makes sense to be incredibly welcoming, but why did I have to travel seven hundred miles to feel like a church wanted me to show up at their service? Even churches in Cincinnati can, and should, go out of their way to create that welcoming atmosphere (and some do … just not many like Duck Methodist). There, they expected new folks to show up, so they didn’t treat me like I had two heads when I walked through their doors. Do you anticipate new people at your church anymore, or is it a shock when an unfamiliar face appears? Because when everyone is shocked to see a new person, that new person can tell.
After introductions and greetings, the band led worship. Which leads me into part two.
Wow. I am having a hard time finding the words to describe the worship experience. Is incredimazingtastic a word?
It started pretty normal—a couple of electric guitars, drums, singers. Average stuff. Talented folks, but nothing overly special. Then, song two began. They played Stand by Me.
Oh, I thought, this is kinda cool. I was just talking about playing secular music in church, and here we go. Sweet!
But things turned sour very quickly. Stand by Me turned into this (to the same beat):
“So Jesus, Jesus, stand … by me. Oh, stand, by me, Lord. My Lord and Savior, stand by me.”
And so on.
And then, How Sweet It Is to Be Loved by You, turned into:
“When the Lord has come, and I know He’s near … I wanna stop and thank you, Jesus. I wanna stop and thank you, Lord … How sweet it is to be loved by God.”
I applaud the effort, but please don’t do that to a cool song. Remember last week when I realized God is everywhere, all of the time? Well, he bolted for the car during those two songs.
Then, just when things couldn’t get any more amazing, during the How Sweet It Is song, they kept flashing a picture of a giggling Jesus on the screen:
Amazing, right? But not nearly as amazing as when they starting flashing pictures beside his head of banana splits, chocolates, and baked goods.
Simply amazing.
I’m still not sure if it was real or a joke, but either way, kudos, Duck Methodist.
The band also played God of Wonders, which might be my favorite worship song. Not sure why, but the melody and lyrics combine to always get me:
The prayer following worship was great, they collected an offering, and then we moved on to part three of the service: The message.
Someone read from the Book of Job, and then Pastor Ray stood to discuss God’s answer to Job’s questions. (If you don’t know the story, basically, Job was as close to perfect as someone could be, but bad stuff started happening to him. God and Satan watched to see how he would respond to living a blameless life, but suffering terrible tragedies.)
Pastor Ray’s message was one of the best I have heard all year. I really liked him a lot. He seemed genuine, kind, and very wise. He focused on answering the question, “Can I trust God?” Which, for most of us, is really the key question, isn’t it? I know it is for me. Almost all of my issues can be boiled down to that one question. Do I trust God, or will I continue to rely on my own strengths and abilities?
He talked about how we grow up being taught people should be rewarded for doing good and punished for doing bad. Remember when you would bring home an A on your report card? Ice cream and new toys surely followed. But when you brought home an F, it was a different story. Chores, no dessert, maybe you even got grounded. We grow up thinking, “If I can just do everything right, God will reward me. And if I avoid screwing up, God won’t punish me.”
So, we get pissed off when life isn’t fair. “Why me?” we cry out. “What did I do to deserve this?” we scream.
I didn’t deserve to lose my job, or watch a loved one die from cancer, or get cheated on. Ever asked the question, “Why do bad things happen to good people?”
Pastor Ray said, “The problem was, Job’s question to God (why me?) was about justice. God’s answer was about omnipotence.”
In other words, we are limited in our ability to see the big picture. God is not. How many times have we cried out for immediate answers and heard nothing? But then, years later, the story makes more sense. Three years after a relationship ends, you think, “Thank God I didn’t marry that person.” In the moment, we rage against God because it feels like he doesn’t care or is out to get us. But time gives us perspective.
Pastor Ray asked an interesting question. “Why else would we be good if we didn’t expect things to go our way?” Think about it. Are we so conditioned to seek rewards and avoid punishment that our actions are based solely on outcomes? What if you knew there would be no punishment for cheating on your wife? Would you remain faithful? What if you knew there would be no accolades for volunteering at church? Would you still show up? I know people who advertise every positive thing they do. I struggle with that constantly. Do I act only to get rewarded?
The problem with that mentality should be clear. What happens if you stop getting rewarded? What happens to your faith if you volunteer at church every week, and then you get cancer?
My faith plummets when life doesn’t go my way. A lot. When I struggle financially, I think, “Well, screw it, I’m going to stop being generous.” When I struggle relationally, I think, “Fine, I’ll just go sleep with a hundred different women.” When I get a bad course evaluation, I want to quit teaching. When people criticize my writing, I want to give up. When someone with less talent gets more attention, I shake my fist at God. (As if I’m going to hold God hostage or something. How silly.)
“What happened to fairness?” I scream.
But if life really was fair, I would be screwed. Royally. Because, to be completely honest, I am a bad dude. Evil. Conniving. Some of the thoughts that run through my brain … disgusting. Some of the things I have done … dreadful. Some of the things I will do today … twisted. Some of the things I will do in the future … morbid.
If life was fair, my life should be in shambles. And maybe it will someday. For now, I can’t rage against God when life doesn’t work out perfectly and ignore him when I reap his undeserved blessings. It’s childish to do so.
This really struck me Thursday when Michael Jackson died. Many people focused heavily on the ways in which he had screwed up, as though his mistakes should have kept him from the world’s love. Or, more importantly, God’s love. That is a scary thought. I didn’t know Michael Jackson. I do know he had some issues. Not because of what I saw on television, but because he was a flawed human being. Just like me. Just like you. I don’t condone criminal activity, but I also can’t condemn people because they fall short of perfection. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the reason Jesus died on a cross is because we all fall short.
When we begin to forget that simple fact, we’re in some serious trouble.
As Saint Thomas Aquinas said shortly before his death, “All that I have written seems to me like straw compared with what has been revealed to me.”
The seventy minute service concluded with communion and one final worship song. Then, Liz and I did get to watch the final few minutes of the sun setting. Not a bad way to spend a Wednesday evening in the Outer Banks.
Twenty-six churches down; twenty-six churches to go. We having fun yet?
JOIN THE CONVERSATION
