peace . love . joy

When I first came to the UK at the beginning of my exchange in January, one of the things I knew I needed was to find a church that I could attend faithfully. I didn't quite know how to get about doing that. How indeed does one judge which church to attend? What criteria does one base the judgement upon? What makes one church better than another? I came to no conclusion, found no answers that satisfied me to any of the three above questions. I did manage to find a church that I now attend faithfully. How did I make that decision to stick to this church? Well, I asked God. And during the first song we sang in that church, I felt God tapping on the walls of my heart and I felt that there was something that God would have me do for this church, that I could offer them. I felt I must stay. And stay, I did.

This church offered me what I really longed to have from any church - fellowship.
Every Sunday, after the service was over, we, unless called away by prior engagement or by an emergency, all adjourned to a room in the back where we had tea or coffee and some biscuits. There, we'd stand or sit around and talk and catch up with one another. And they really make a stranger feel so welcomed. I love that. That friendly smile or nod just as service begins, that reassuring "I'm so glad to see you here this week!", that sincere remembrance of what was shared or conversed the week before between two people. It really is like a family.

But there is one thing that I felt lacking in this church. And it is something that I never really could imagine myself saying before. In fact, I probably would never have said nor noticed this were I to never have come here. The way they sang songs to God together as a congregation, to me, leaves quite a bit to be desired. Perhaps I am too "modern" in my thinking, or too accustomed to hearing clapping hands during a fast-paced song, or seeing lifted hands, upturned faces, swaying bodies, jumping bodies...

This puzzled me. Granted, the population of this church is quite old, many were born during World War II, many are parents, grandparents, but surely a trifle so small as rhythm-clapping hands to accompany an up-beat song to express a light-hearted emotion could be witnessed? During my first Bible study with one of the church's small groups, I was a little discouraged to learn that quite a number are very closed to the idea of outward expressions of emotions and even manifestations of the Spirit; gifts from the Lord (such as the speaking in tongues). Yes, even the clapping of hands, someone was dead against it. Not all of them think that way, mind you. But it was still a little discouraging because many, if not all appear to take their cues from those who are very strict and reserved; not many dare (in fact I think only a handful, but they do not often outwardly display either).

Why don't I ignore them and worship God as I feel fit?
Well, it is really not as easy as it sounds. Imagine being in a small congregation of about fifty or so, and being the only one clapping and singing at the top of your lungs. Imagine all eyes on you, among them disapproving stares. I learnt from a Nigerian lady who is about my age that in Nigeria, some of the more conservative churches actually ask you to leave if you so much as clap during the singing of songs.

However, I am not giving up on these people. At least not so easily. A very kind and trusting church lady told me that she thought this very reserved and quiet nature of many of the older generation had to do with their upbringing. These people were born either just before or during the War. These people were the ones whose fathers went off to fight, whose mothers left each day to work. Some of the fathers came home, some never did. These children watch their mothers never physically show any emotion. They watch their fathers go on endless strolls by themselves, or sit in a room staring blankly. So when they grow up, that's all they know. That's what they think is right and so they too in turn hide their emotions. But the lady told me that the more something matters to them, the more they hold dear in their hearts, the more they hide it away. But if I should go and talk to them one-on-one, there is a chance that I might see what they treasure. She told me not to be discouraged.

I think it really is interesting that childhood matters so much. This really is like sociology, psychology coming to life right before my eyes. Intriguing!

Very interesting to learn of and witness the different styles of worship!
But I do so love to worshipping God with what He has given me. I personally cannot imagine worship without at least facial expression... What God has given me, whatever I can use, my physical body, my mental capacity, my abilities, my gifts from Him, &c., I shall use to worship Him as best I can because that is all I can offer Him for so much that He has given me.

No style is perfect.
No style is wrong.
What matters is that you are worshipping the Lord as best you can and as best you know how.