Just Another Sunday

Well, today didn’t work out...the way I planned, at least.

My Saturday night run-through of the weekend’s sermon – the conclusion of a seven week series called “Jesus on the Rise, in which we sought evidence that Jesus had in fact risen from the dead, and was in fact still alive today – had produced palpable excitement in my spirit. This closer, Saturday’s final review persuaded me, hit high notes, encouraged people in their spiritual journeys, and continued the rebuilding of our congregation’s attitude following an extended period of self-imposed cynicism and doubt.

I went to bed Saturday night ready to preach. Man, I would have debuted the sermon at a minute past midnight had the congregation consented. I had convinced myself that it was going to be a magnificent Sunday at worship.

It wasn’t.... Well, more on that later.

Our Sundays begin with what we call church school. A few minutes before the start of the groups, it seemed only a couple of people were in the building. More participants arrived, but in toto, there just weren’t enough to herald the kind of worship attendance the morning’s sermon merited.

Neither did the worship crowd live up to my expectations. I thought we were going to set fire to the house today. I knew there was energy and optimism in the day’s proclamation to stir the most hardened of hearts. When I turned out Saturday’s lights early Sunday morning, I thought the walls of our worship center would need reinforcement by the time we celebrated communion, what with all the people who would show for the series’ conclusion. But when worship opened with our praise time – with which we had irritating and interrupting technical glitches, I’ll have you know – there just weren’t enough hearts in the house to stir my own.

And then there was the sermon. I swear it was the same one I had excitedly reviewed Saturday night. But Sunday morning it didn’t sound or feel the same. It didn’t have the same emotional sway, the anticipated rhetorical flourish, or the predicted swell effect in the room.

Oh, it generated some “Amens!” In fact, for a church like ours, the “Amen!” corner was considerably larger than...ever today. But I wanted more. I expected more.... Damn it.

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Childish, infantile, and senseless is this rant of mine, isn’t it?

Worship didn’t live up to my expectations, so I pout.

Our congregational response to God’s glory didn’t satisfy me, so I protest.

I didn’t get what I wanted, so I raise a fit.

Real nice, Bill.

This ever happened to you? Have unmet expectations ever disrupted more than their fair share of your spirit? Have you ever allowed the (un)-fulfillment of your predictions about someone or something to determine your experience? That’s what happened to me today. My heart was so set on what I thought was going to happen, that I didn’t let it happen. I was so convinced of the results of worship before it began, that I didn’t allow people to worship once it began. I was so certain that we’d achieve a certain vision of emotional and spiritual high, that no other result mattered. I set myself up, and paid for it.

Shari assured me that worship went well. The “Amens” were quite non-Disciple like. And there was at least one person who waited to come through the end-of-worship line who doesn’t usually do so.... Come to think of it, I would NEVER have expected that!

God is awesome and amazing. God is beyond our words or imagination. God is also not dependent on our plans or ambitions. The next time you dream, dream big; but remember Jesus’ great escape clause: Not my will, but yours be done.


Pray with me:
In all things, at all times, on every day and at the end of every excited evening, not my will, but yours. In the name of Jesus, Amen.