Excellence,
or involvement? It's an interesting predicament. On the one hand,
scripture tells us to do everything to the best of our ability, for
the glory of God (Colossians 3:23),
right? On the other hand, do we really want to focus so much on
'doing things well' that our church services effectively become a
show- one among a number of weird and wonderful installments of
weekend entertainment? I mean, if the Church is not the steeple, but
the people, then what does it matter if the whole thing's a shambles,
so long as we're all there having a good time with God...?
It's
tricky, but like a good Anglican, I reckon there's a healthy third
way somewhere in between that holds these two extremes in tension.
When people walk into All Hallows for the first time, what do we want
them to encounter? Absolute chaos, poorly organized and badly
executed for the sake of getting everyone involved, stemming from the
fact that we haven't put time in to make things look, sound and feel
good and run with a certain level of smoothness...? Well, no. Somehow
if this was the case, I doubt that many people would come back.
Scripture isn't exactly silent on the ideals of ordered and orderly
worship that at least makes sense (check out 1 Corinthians 12-14). So
yes, we try not to put square pegs in round holes but rather to get
people doing the things they're good at (or have potential for). Yes,
we mess around with microphones and mixing desks, spending time
trying to get instruments well-levelled and achieve adequate
amplification in spite of obviously awful acoustics. Yes, we've spent
some money on matching coffee cups and comfy carpet, some printer ink
on artwork for our service booklets and some time sorting out a
plasma screen for our song words, all in the interest not only of
excellence but also accessibility.
And
yet, we try to realize (and then remember) that it isn't all about
that. At All Hallows, we want to empower our people to grow in their
gifts... and that has to start somewhere. If we waited for everyone
to be ultra-professional, none of us would ever get to do anything.
So as much as we do want to do things well, we also want to include
our people in the practices that comprise our Sunday services, and
our other meetings and initiatives. If that means losing a segment of
slickness and being a little rough round the edges from time to
time... we'll take that.
In
fact, we're happier with that.
In
a culture that is overwhelmingly accustomed to high-quality
entertainment at the touch of a button through the movement of just a
couple of muscles, sometimes it's good to have a little humanity.
Sometimes that which is a little raw is better, because it's also
real. So yes, we allow people to wander in halfway through the first
hymn instead of being there at the start. Yes, we give the kids
rattles to shake out of time with the music and drown out all our
voices for one song each week. Yes, we give people a chance to do
things when we can see the potential of them improving to astonishing
levels of eventual professionalism in that particular task. Yes, we
love it when those who are tone deaf sing the loudest. Yes, we put up
with toddlers screaming through our sermons. Yes, we stand by the
policy applied to everything from inward attitude to outward attire
to 'come as you are' to our gatherings. Many of us have caught on to
the fact that the church is the people, not the building... but it's
sometimes harder to remember that the church is still the people, not
that one or two hour service. That being the case, we'll keep doing
everything we can to walk well the fine line between excellence and
involvement. And if you haven't yet ever been to All Hallows I hope
that, when you do, you find a beautiful East End blend of both.
