First Baptist

Kailey:

I only had two major observations, and I’m only going to comment on one of them, incidentally.  (The one I’m not going to talk about is the intentionality of language from the pulpit, which Becka has already covered.) 

To preface, purely as a matter of preference, I don’t enjoy ginormous worship services.  I started going to Summit when we were still meeting in Theatre 3, with its intimate little stage and lighting, old comfy movie-theatre seats and cup-holders.  So I would be a liar if I said I didn’t walk into First Baptist without a small (but tangible) measure of pre-fabricated antipathy.  It’s just so huge.  The style of music was huge in its own right—lots of band members, big stage, big lights, big noises.  And I was just beginning to comfortably drift off to a little island of subconscious reprobation when I heard a very familiar tune coming from all those big instruments. 

Let every creature in the sea and every flying bird,

let every mountain, every field, and valley of the earth,

let all the moons and all the stars, in all the universe

sing praises to the living God who rules them by His Word.

Halleluia!  Glory be to our great God!

The notes the band began to play and the words the voices sang around me were those of a song with which (since coming to Summit) I’ve become very familiar.  It was humbling to realize that I had once again slipped into church snob mode, while the worshippers around me sang a song that could very well be ringing out from the walls of Summit, that very day, that very hour—maybe even in that very key.  God was gracious to allow me this moment of humility, so that the beauty of our collective worship (FBO, Summit, and all worshippers everywhere) was not entirely lost to me.   I wondered to myself how many people were singing that song at that moment.  I wondered to myself how many people were singing at all.  It made the big church seem a much smaller part of something much, much bigger.  Something much more beautiful. 

Becka:

I don’t have a lot to say specifically about First Baptist because I wasn’t yet taking notes when we visited.  (Yes, I now carry a notebook with me and take notes through even the most emotionally charged moments, including singing and prayer.)  I’ll just make two points based on my vague memories of the experience.  One good thing: First Baptist had a lot of classes to offer its congregation.  If held in the right balance with action, information is so incredibly helpful to those of us trying to live as members of the kingdom of God.  I’m not recommending that everyone I know go to these classes; they may not be good (i.e. may not be teaching accurate information).  That’s a whole nother issue for churches that have classes – the quality of the teaching.  All I remember is that there were a lot of classes, and I like the potential there. 

Now, one caution: I think what I’m arguing for here is both thought and intentionality in speech from the stage.  Not that speakers need to have every word written down before they speak – some people need that, but others would find it stifling.  I do think, though, that some thought could be put into the way in which values, doctrines, vision, etc., are communicated (in general, therefore including but not limited to this church).  As a First Baptist example, the way in which the man onstage listed the reasons for giving to missions made those reasons sound primarily self-centered, and unfortunately not God-centered at all.  He encouraged the congregation to give first of all for their own spiritual benefit, second for the benefit of their missionaries, and finally so that people could get saved.  Everyone onstage: please be careful!  You are oftentimes communicating more than you think you are. 

One final side-note.  In case the pastor did actually mean what he said (and since I grew up Baptist I know that some Baptists do), this is why I think self-centered (even spiritual) motivation is wrong.  True, there are a number of times in the Bible where it sounds as though we are encouraged to be selfish – at least in spiritual matters – not the least all those times Paul talks about working for “crowns” or “rewards.”  And I have definitely heard people explain that because it is spiritual, it’s okay to be selfish… and they usually follow that explanation up with either a sheepish or belligerent (depending on their personality) statement that after all “it’s in the Bible.”  And it’s true the Bible does say that.  But I don’t think those words mean what some people think they do.  The problem comes when we don’t remember that the Holy Spirit works in our lives. If it is in fact God in the Holy Spirit working through us to make his kingdom known, if we really believe that in him we live and move and have our being, then our eventual crowns or rewards really will be thrown at his feet in praise because we will understand that we – literally – could not have done it without him; he was working through us when we did our “good deeds” and the crowns in fact belong to him.  The point in giving is not to get rewards (that aren’t ever really deserved anyway) but to be part of God’s plan.  That we get to be a part of God’s plan.  And just to be clear, our language should probably focus on that point.  God invites us unto his one plan; he doesn’t create individual plans centered around each of us (or each of our churches).  It’s always about him, never about us.    

Kailey: 

Holy brain EXPLOSION, Becka!

Becka:

Kailey! Thanks for writing about the connection to the whole church.  That is actually one of the things I most enjoy about our church-hopping experience: the moments that remind me in some way or another that we are all one body of believers.  I like church (sometimes); I definitely like The Church.  I like God.  I like seeing all the people even just in Central Florida who really are trying to live for him and become more like him.  And thanks to the congregation at First Baptist for being some of those people.