Losing Worship

I have a long and interesting history with worship. I grew up with both my parents and two Grandmothers in the Catholic Church Choir. I spent many Sunday's and Christmas Eve Midnight Masses falling asleep to the relaxing drones of Catholic Hymns. I was always nearby...in the choir loft or on the side of the altar where the choir was moved when they wanted to "make a good show". In fact, one time I fell out of my chair while playing around and accidentally unplugged the organ in the middle of a triumphant hymn when Bishop (now Cardinal) Mahoney was giving a mass in our church. Whoops. Years later, I became a Christian. I had just learned to play guitar and was one of the only people in the youth group who knew how to play...so I became the token worship leader. I played for the children at Summer Camp. I played during youth meetings. Eventually, I joined the worship team and played on Sundays. I co-founded a Christian rock group that did many worship-type songs. I enjoyed worship. I was at home worshiping with a guitar in my hand. During those years, I had many deep and meaningful worship experiences. At church, in a parking lot, on a mountain top, in a small villiage in Mexico, in a park, in the dark at someone's home while 20 youth sang their hearts out to God. These were incredible times. Eventually, I moved to Torrance and went to a church called "Sanctuary: The Rock and Roll Refuge". This church was started to help the long-hairs and heavy metal fans who became Christians at Stryper concerts find a home. The worship band was made up of prominent members of huge Christian heavy metal, thrash, and punk groups. The worship was insane. I remember being in my seat moved to tears at the outpouring of worship in my soul. I remember being drawn to my knees during those times. Hands raised. Tears flowing. I continued to lead worship whenever I could. I remember leading worship at Christian camps. While camping with friends. At home during a bible study. At home...alone. Amazing. Powerful. Heartfelt.


Somewhere I started to lose this spirit of worship. I'm not sure where. Perhaps it was the little things. I lead worship at my brothers church and for the life of me I couldn't get the members to participate. I couldn't get us all to a deep level of worship. I could barely get people to sing. And then there was the criticism. Perhaps if you revamped some old hymns. Perhaps if you didn't do that particular song. The people here are intellectuals. Maybe if you sang in Tolken's Elvish language or Olde English, people would get more into it. I started to loose heart. I left that lead worship position to move back to the Inland Valley and marry my beautiful wife. I started attending another church nearby. Before long, I was back in a worship band. This experience was again...frustrating. I was chubby at the time and had a beard...so I must have a tenor voice like the star worship singer who was also chubby and had a beard. Nope. I couldn't hit those high notes and no matter how many times I told the worship leader that I was not a tenor, he couldn't get it through his skull. I took another step down the latter. My hands remained in my pockets, rather than raised in the air. I stood or sat...rather than dropping to my knees. When this church opened a more intimate coffee bar church in a side wing to help with the crowd problems, I was tagged to lead worship. I did it and had some fine moments, but my spirit wasn't in it. It got to the point where when friends or family asked if I would lead worship during camping or at an event, I dreaded it. I found any and every excuse to avoid bringing my guitar. I acted like a baby...because suddenly the same man who was once compared to David by someone because of his spirit for worship....suddenly wanted to avoid worship like the plague.

I tried desperately to bring myself back to the worship from my yesteryear where I was alone with God...immersed in adoration and praise. But, I couldn't. Recently, I even tried to audition for the worship team at church and the experience was not enjoyable in the least and was quite painful. I didn't make it on the team and I took yet another step down the latter. Another nail in my worship coffin. Maybe the last nail. Now, I sing the words without feeling. I can't raise my hands. There is no emotion left in my worship experience. Don't get me wrong. I love God deeply. I have great daily quiet times and deep prayer where I really feel God's presence. But, I just can't worship with music anymore. I don't know why.

When I lead worship for my brothers church, he had me do a study on what worship is. When I did some deeper study, I found that worship is not just music, songs, words, and a good rock show. Worship was a lifestyle that incorporated giving yourself to Jesus. Prayer could be worship. Serving could be worship. Washing dishes could be worship. Whatever you did for God's glory could be a form of worship. But, when you added music to the equation....my heart died (or was killed...I'm not sure which). For whatever reason, I have lost my spirit of worship through music. I still have flutterings. When I hear a really good song that stirs my soul, I feel the flutter. When I see a 2 year old dance at church to a worship song, my heart flutters. When I see my wife raise her hands without pretense in a utter state of worship, I feel the flutter. "All of Creation" by MercyMe stirs something deep down within me. I don't know why. It just does. Hearing some of the old songs from The Sanctuary does the same. Hearing songs that I worshiped to when I was a youth at Covina First Baptist still stirs that place deep in my soul. But, I still feel dead. These flutterings feel like a electric shock to a heart that has already stopped beating and remains flat-lined.

Part of me wonders, is this what happens to a person who has been a Christian for 20+ years? Is this part of the Christian life-cycle? The same cycle that causes the rush and excitement of newness to calm down into a steady, reasonable, and less exciting faith years later? Who knows? I just know that worship is difficult for me now. I don't know how to fix it. Like a typical man, I am looking for a formula. A set of steps to follow to fix it. But, as a follower of God, I know that no such formula exists. Celtic Christians used to call God (the Holy Spirit) the "wild goose" because it was wild and can not be tamed. I understand that concept. The "wild goose" makes it so that there is no easy fix. No self-help book. No 10 steps to recovery. I want to go back to my Christian youth. I want to regain that intimate and powerful worship. The kind where everything else slips away. Where it is just me and God. Where I walk away glowing like Moses did on Mount Sinai. I just don't know how to get there.