Current

So long ago, so much has changed,

Our lives rearranged

Like the quadrants of a Rubik's cube.

Do we match up anymore?

We can't know what lies in store 

When Faith, unsure of what it hopes for,

Stumbles over what to do

And fumbles, tumbles, falls-

Stalls.

But life goes on, its hectic pace

Not slacking up, not letting up,

Not slowing down a bit for those

Who need to do some catching up.

The tide of Time just streams on by

With Life caught in the current's flow.

Meanwhile, standing on the shore,

Watching while the world drifts on,

I wonder, how does one decide

To jump in, swim, be swept away

Or stand upon the bank--remain,

A constant in this world of change?

That teasing ache for certainty,

That longing to be filled, if only

Once, be something 'kin to Fate,

Something Absolute and Separate,

Calls out like a siren's voice,

Urging me to make a choice:

Cast off the past and start to row

Or get caught in the undertow.

Do I sink or do I swim

And let the current take me in?

__________________________________________________________

  I've been thinking a lot about time lately. Not just the usual complaints of there not being enough hours in the day (that's nothing out of the ordinary,) but more like musings on the passing of time. It's such a double-edged sword. Time heals wounds, but time also breaks down those things and relationships that aren't carefully maintained. I remember in college, I used to drive around the surrounding countryside and gaze for hours at old barns and homesteads that had fallen into disrepair from years of neglect. I always wondered what happened to make them unwanted, unused. There was a story to them all, and I wanted to know it. To me, they held a certain strange beauty, in spite of their brokenness... or perhaps because of it.

  There's a painting by Salvador Dali called "The Persistence of Memory" which portrays so perfectly the effect of time on our human minds. The clocks, draped over various other surfaces, melt and lose their original shape. In the same way, our perception of time changes as we move through it. We forget details about events in the past, we're unsure how long ago an event occurred, we struggle to remember exactly what an old friend looks like. Time wreaks havoc on our memories, making us wonder "What if ... ?  What if my memories are wrong? What if I've forgotten something important?  What if my mind eventually fails?"  

  So many of our concerns in life center around time and our perception of it, our place in it.  I can't really imagine an existence outside of time, but I have a feeling that eternity will be exempt from these sensations of time passing. Maybe exempt from time itself.  As for me, I can't wait to stand on that bank, having stepped out of this human experience called time, and bask in the eternal Sun.  

  My uncle and I were talking this past Christmas about the differences between Christian and secular music, and how little artistry there seems to be on both sides of the industry these days. In Christian music in particular, the trend for the most part is away from honesty and poetry rather than toward it. A few exceptions on either side of the fence still hold on to musical integrity... Cold Play, Dave Matthews Band, Caedmon's Call and Casting Crowns to name a few. But he and I both discovered that, without intending to, we had stopped listening to Christian music. In fact, very nearly had stopped listening to the radio at all. I got so tired of hearing the "positive, upbeat and encouraging" garbage that I went into a sort of musical hiatus... a sad thing for someone who earned their degree in it. 

  The more I study Scripture, the more I am impressed by the poetry and artistry inherent in the Word of God. The Old Testament poems in Psalms and many of the prophetic books in particular are rife with raw emotion, embracing the full range of human experience, from the heights of pleasure to the hell of despair.  David writes about being forsaken by God, surrounded by enemies, and bereft of all hope. Isaiah calls out the nation of Israel for being prostitutes to other gods, in no uncertain terms. As Christians, we have a biblical need to embrace the varying emotions of our nature, and use them to express ourselves to God.  Some of the most moving hymns of our faith speak of immense loss, a recognition of sin so profound that, if not for grace, would produce unconquerable despair. The more we ignore these states in our own lives, the further we will push the outside world away. Our music, and our lives, need to reflect both the brokenness of acknowledged sin, the joy of accepted grace, and every step in between. We simply cannot pretend that our lives are exempt from difficulty. We may deceive ourselves, but not those who observe us. And we ignore their need for a faith that answers the depth of human experience.  

  A God who created a universe as vast, complex, and diverse as our own, with all the beauty, mystery, and heartache visible to us, deserves so much more than weak words and hackneyed chord progressions. Are our songs written to reflect the true state of our lives with Christ, in all the gore and glory that entails, or do we write music to please an audience, or bring a paycheck? Christian artists have to be willing to express themselves with the kind of realism that the world and our Church needs, but perhaps more importantly, Christian congregations need to be willing to see the results and acknowledge them as an appropriate response to the myriad promptings of the Spirit of God.

In the Beginning

   On October 5th, 2008, a small band of Christians met in the annex of Morgan City's volunteer fire department, worshipped together for about an hour, ate lunch together, and went home changed forever. 

   After months of prayer and preparation, The Table Community Church was born.  The dream of five young Christians disillusioned by the politics of church committees and drowning in meaningless social gatherings substituted for real fellowship, our first meeting was far from perfect. Just half an hour before our first service was scheduled to start, we discovered that our CD player was apparently an atheist, and had devoured the worship CD I had painstakingly created for our historic day.  Its grip was like the grave; five months later, I still haven't managed to get it back. Luckily, I had an extra copy... just in case.  My husband sped (I mean, "maintained the legal speed limit") all the way to the nearest Wal-mart and bought us a new stereo system, complete with remote control. We started a little late, but the sense that we were fulfilling a calling that would lead us outside of ourselves carried us through a service very different from what we had all grown up with.

   Most of us grew up in the Baptist tradition, known for committees and potlucks, but we all knew that something was missing in the worship we were experiencing in our quaint, traditional churches.  The Christian faith has a rich history of meaningful traditions, some tracing as far back as the first and second centuries after Christ.  But sadly, many Protestant denominations ignore not only this heritage, but the present state of society outside of the church walls as well, stuck in a mindset of 30, 40, or 50 years ago, impotent in its ministry to young people who haven't grown up in the Christian tradition. We felt a need for a worship platform that accessed the jewels of our history and set them to advantage in the present--a sort of "future history" approach. What we now have is a strange chimera of Christian traditions... a theology basically Baptist, with a worship service modeled on the liturgy used by Lutherans and Episcopals, and music settings varying from 16th century settings of the creed (in Latin) to contemporary Christian artists like Third Day and Casting Crowns. And the worship is good. 

   I don't mean "How was your day?" good, I don't mean "I just had lunch at Chik-fil-A" good. I mean  "wedding night" good. I mean "Momma's homemade fried chicken, mashed potatoes and biscuits with honey and sweet tea made with real sugar" good. I mean "I don't care if I look like a fool, I finally know what it feels like to be the real me" good. And I fully acknowledge that it has absolutely nothing in the world to do with me, because I know by now that I only get in the way.  And that's what real worship essentially boils down to... me getting out of the way, and letting God accomplish His desire in me. 

   Oh Lord, let that be my constant prayer, to step aside and place my pride at Your feet, allowing You to show me who You are, and how You love.