How Do I Get to England from Here?

My wife is still in Atlanta . . . I'm still playing Tiger Woods 2004. It's not quite as entertaining. I'm trying to figure out why my blogs are all about stuff that would be better used if they were in a book and making me money.

In any case . . . I was reading C.S. Lewis again this morning before I came to work. And, yes, another GREAT analogy from Mere Christianity.

Clive was giving a talk to a bunch of Royal Air Force men . . . when one old, embittered man stood up and said, 'I've no use for all that stuff. But, mind you, I'm a religious man too. I've fel Him: out, alone in the desert at night: the tremendous mystery. And that's just why I don't believe all your neat little dogmas and formulas about Him. To anyone who's met the real thing they all seem so petty and pedantic and unreal."

This litter exerpt, I think, is becoming the basis for the most recent revision of my views on worship, specifically blended worship (which, btw, is a term I can't stand!): why old people and young people can't seem to agree on how to tell God that they both love Him.

It has to do with reality. The man from the RAF had a REAL encounter with God. He FELT God. He SENSED God's presence. He SURRENDERED to God. Then, when it came time to turn to the CHURCH, the written liturgy, the tradition, the ritual, all seemed so very bland and uninclusive to his soul. They seemed 'petty and pedantic (i.e. dull and incredibly hung-up on details) and unreal'. He turned to a body of believers that had something that seemed much less real.

In essence, a map. Should you go to the east coast of this pretty vast continent (or, in Newfoundland, outdoors anywhere), you'll see ocean . . . loads and loads of ocean. You'll see beaches, and smell salted air, hear birds and waves, feel the ocean breeze on your face, etc. You'll experience the Atlantic. If you look at a map, you won't see or feel or hear any of those things, but you'll see a lot of colored ink that is supposed to represent EVERYTHING that we know about the Atlantic Ocean. Not nearly as invigorating . . . but useful . . . especially if you're on your way to England.

Two points are made in the exerpt:

1. As dull as the map may seem, it represents the collective experience of hundreds of thousands of beach-goers and sailors that have come before us. "Masses of experience." is how Lewis puts it. Whereas my single experience is a snap-snot, the map is a collection of everybodies.
2. If you want to go anywhere, the map is vital. Walks on the beach are incredible, and your experiences are much more entertaining than looking at a silly piece of paper.

Now . . . with our someone-proclaimed 'praise and worship' movement, I fear not only that the older Christians among us think we're trying to rip apart the map they helped draft, but that they're also correct. I've got decreasing amounts of sympathy for those of us who say that they can't just worship to band music or electric guitar solos or stagnant liturgy. In all of the things that 'we just can't do' we're self-righteously robbing God of what he rightfully deserves (i.e. GLORY). I just can't help but think, as I'm involved in more and more discussions about life, that we're completely missing the boat . . . . me too.

In our ARMY, I agree that it might be nice if we could 'rouse the troops a little . . . we've got a real-world war to fight with soldiers that a pudgy and comfortable. PLEASE remember that the MAP of our history and collective experience is STILL very usefull and VITAL for our battles. Let's just work on forging a new path, finding a new passage from A to B, not blinding wandering on the beach.

Grace