I'll Ring Your Doorbell Until You Let Me In, And I Can No Longer Tell Where "You" End And "I" Begin...

"On a cold december, just after dusk, as the sun bid its cordial goodbyes, we get split to pieces like an apple-seed husk to reveal the tree that's been hidden inside. We're a sapling caught in a tattered sirah at the seams from the shepherd's purse-belt. Broke the news to mom: we found a better Mom we call "G-d" (which she took quite well) what a beautiful G-d, what a beautiful G-d, what a beautiful G-d there must be! what a beautiful G-d, what a beautiful G-d, what a beautiful G-d there must be! what a beautiful G-d, what a beautiful G-d, what a beautiful G-d there must be! what a beautiful G-d, what a beautiful G-d, what a beautiful G-d You must be!"  

I have been known to be a pretty emotional person when it comes to art, mainly music and movies. I'm sure that a good number of friends who have attended concerts with me can remember looking over at me, at some point during the show, and seeing tears streaming down my face. Sometimes, it can be a bit embarrassing, because I'm usually with a group of guys who will call me on it, but never, by any means, am I ashamed to have that kind of connection with the performer on stage and their art. A year ago, I got the chance to see one of my favorite bands, mewithoutYou, for the first time. This was a sweet victory for me, because a month before that, I had travelled to New Orleans to see them and walked into the venue as they were walking off stage. So seeing them this time meant that much more. During their set, the band danced frivolously all around the stage as they are very well-known to do. Their audience sang, at the top of their lungs, lyrics, which I'm sure everyone in the room could connect to in one way or another. In the midst of all of this, was me. For an hour-and-a-half, I sang every word and cried my eyes out. There was a reason for this sort of emotion. I had never experienced worship like this before. It was a total release of energy and fear and emotion. I didn't care that anyone was watching, because God was there and he was seriously interacting with me.  

Fast-forward to a year later. 2 weeks ago today, to be exact. I got to experience the same thing in the same place, with some great friends. This time things were much more laid back for me. I was still singing every word. There were tears at a few points (mostly while singing the lyrics I typed out above). However, this time, I took the opportunity to observe what was going on around me. Not many, conservative Christians would walk into this place where alcohol is being pushed at all points and a loud band is playing on stage and think that this is a place where worship was taking place, but I could see it. Everywhere, there were people with closed eyes singing songs and gratefully lifting their hands to One worthy of worship. People were dancing like maniacs (on the floor), probably much akin to the way a scantily clad king would dance in the presence of such a good God. This was something I have never experienced in church, which is sad because it felt so incredibly real.  

There is something inside of us that makes us desire to sing, or paint, or write or build or fix or direct as a means of expressing our innermost being. I know that because I can feel it all the time. I'm a drummer and a writer, so I constantly desire to play music or get something down on paper, because I am inspired by something greater than me, I'm going to call it God.  

I want to spur discussion because this is a topic that is very important to me and I value my community's input. Why doesn't the "worship" I have come to know from church settings resemble or come close to the worship I experience in settings like above? When we play music or present art in Gatherings, should we consider everyone's tastes to keep everyone interested? How do we do that? Do you think that the problem lies in the musical genre or the tempo?  

Al dio sia la gloria, Amen, Amen. 

Jason.