Escaping the Tyranny of Complexity and Perfectionism: Reflections on Worship in the Midst of COVID-19
One Sunday evening several years ago, we lost power at our home. Sitting in the dark, my daughter Abby and I decided to plan a family worship service using only things we had stored up in our heart and mind. We had memorized Scripture since the time she was very young, so we had a catalog of texts we might recite in our liturgy. We decided to include a couple of Psalms and the Shema. Abby also knew the Lord’s Prayer since we prayed it most every night as long as she could remember. We knew some songs by heart, especially the Doxology, which we sang every Sunday with our local church family. We decided to add some time for silence and reflection between the Scripture recitations and songs. Then we added some simple responsive prayers. In about five minutes, we had a delightful family worship service planed. Our family sat in the dark with no Bible, no hymnal or words projected on a screen, no guitar or piano, no church building, stage or stage lights, no pulpit – and we worshipped.
That worship service reminded me that communion with God and others need not be complex. That evening when the power went out, God gave our family the gift of simplicity. I thought of that little family service this week as I reflected on the myriad of ways God’s people are seeking to connect with Him during the isolation required by COVID-19.
In a culture that finds meaning by adding more stuff and more experiences, it is not surprising that most of us have grown up with complex models of worship. Worship in the contemporary American church demands an abundance of physical resources, advanced technology and many hours of human effort to plan and execute. The prevailing model encourages the production of choreographed worship services and other church programs. Strict time parameters dictate our order of service. In some circles prayer serves only as a “transition” device to connect elements of the production. Hours are spent producing creative video announcements and branding the slides in our latest sermon series. We have bought into the idea that everything hinges on a seamless production. As a result, church leaders often feel tremendous pressure to meet this standard week after week.
The truth is, this tyranny of complexity and perfectionism is self-imposed, and unnecessary. As “shelter at home” orders require congregations to cease gathering in their church buildings, ad hock worship online gatherings have emerged. We often can’t control aspects of these gatherings to the degree we typically manage our Sunday gatherings. But this is a gift. If we pay attention, we’ll learn lessons God longs to teach us. Observant folk are noticing that being together - even virtually - trumps watching a flawless online program. We are discovering it isn’t a “big deal” if the prayer leader has to be reminded to “unmute” their audio. Rather, the big deal is that we are actually praying together.
In the sometimes herky jerky gatherings in which I’ve participated, a beautiful spontaneity and genuineness has emerged. Preoccupation with the “production” has given way to a simple desire to be with God in community in whatever way possible. In the midst of these simple and unpolished gatherings something true, noble, right, pure and lovely often emerges.
A few weeks ago our congregation planed an online worship service that included a musical piece by a senior pianist named Hazel. Hazel plays well, but her computer couldn’t generate a good quality sound. It didn’t matter. When Hazel played, the worshipping community was deeply touched. We could see and hear our sister praise God and we all experienced something “excellent and “praiseworthy.” The moment was simple, but rooted in relationship, and it sprang from right desires. I seldom experience that kind of God encounter in the slick, professional worship services that died a sudden death a weeks ago.
Some Christian leaders will try to resuscitate those complex pressure filled services. They are bound by the models they embrace. But others will take time to reflect and learn to embrace the freedom God offers. This de-cluttering may create more room to love God and others well. The old Shaker song reminds us, “'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free.” May we see this gift for what it is, freedom to abandon the superfluous and the liberty to focus on things of eternal significance.