What Should We Worship In Church?

This weekend is Memorial Day weekend - the traditional beginning of summer (pools open, schools are out, I can finally start wearing white.) I'm a big fan of Memorial Day, Veterans Day, July 4th... all the weekends that celebrate our freedom and remembers those who fought so bravely for us to have this freedom. Both my grandfathers fought in WWII. I'm thankful for their service and the millions of other Americans who fought against Fascism. We have men in our church who are currently serving in the United States military and are fighting the war on terror, either at home or overseas. I recently sat next to a young man on a plane who'd just graduated from Naval boot camp. My first words to him were "thank you for serving our great country." I'm thankful both for our freedoms and all those who fight to protect those freedoms.

Whenever I go to a Memorial Day parade, or a July 4th fireworks show, a service honoring our Vets, or hear Lee Greenwood sing his most famous song, that patriotic pride swells within me and I'm truly proud to be an American.

And yet, when I'm in a Sunday morning church service, and the Star Spangled Banner is played, or someone sings God Bless America, I do not feel that same sense of pride. There is something within me that is uneasy. I still have the same love for my country. I still have the same gratitude for those who've served in the military. But something just doesn't feel right when we wave the red, white, and blue in church. Why am I fine with this celebration at a parade on Main Street, but not on Sunday morning in a church service?

I read an article recently that helped put some theological framework around why I feel this way. To see this article by Kevin DeYoung, go to the following link: http://thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/kevindeyoung/2011/05/26/thinking-theologically-about-memorial-day/

Bottom line of his article is this: patriotism is a good thing, but a worship service of God is not the best place to exalt our country. Our focus in worship should be, well, God, and not ourselves or our country.

Having said all of that, I hope that you have a wonderful Memorial Day weekend, and God Bless America!

Just a dad

Tomorrow is the big day - Kevin Ryan Mills, Jr (a.k.a, "Bubba" by his older sister Elizabeth, but "Ryan" to the rest of us), is getting dedicated in church. There are 20 babies being dedicated, and I've told my church and my family that on this day, I'm just a dad. On a normal Sunday morning, I'm up at 5:00 and out the door before anyone else in the house (including the dog) is even stirring. Most Sundays I do not get to see my family until 12:30 or so as we gather back at the house for lunch. But on this day, I'm just a dad. I'm not preaching. I'm coming to church with my family. I'm participating in the dedication, and then I'm riding home in the same car with my wife and children. Here is the way I envision our morning:

I will wake up at 7 and have breakfast with my wife. We'll drink coffee and talk about what a great day we are looking forward to having together. I'll then feed the dog, who will come over and put her head against my leg, saying "good morning" to me. I will then head up the stairs to wake up our daughter, Elizabeth, as my wife gets Ryan. We will feed them both breakfast as they sit quietly and eat. My wife and I will then take shifts getting ourselves ready, and getting the children bathed and ready. We will leave the house and be at the church at least 15 minutes before we are supposed to be in place. The four of us will walk onto the stage, along with the other families dedicating their children, and our son Ryan will behave superbly and our daughter Elizabeth will smile a perfect smile. We will then head home for a wonderful Mother's Day lunch together.

Have you ever watched any of the old "Vacation" movies with Chevy Chase? He always dreams of the "perfect" vacation with his family, only to be disappointed as nothing goes his way. I'm probably pulling a Clark Griswold here. The morning will probably go something like this:

Ryan wakes up at 5AM, screaming his head off. Since it's Mother's Day, I tell my wife to stay in bed, and that I will feed him. I stumble into his room, trying to find the light switch, and to keep from waking up his sister across the hall. I get Ryan out of bed only to discover that he has, on this Mother's Day, the "mother" of all dirty diapers. In the middle of the changing process, he decides he's ready to go, and his squirming causes the "problem" to escape the containment area. I then run out of baby wipes, forcing me to grab baby, clothes, diaper, and all affected areas and race to the bathtub. I attempt to detox the situation, causing Ryan to scream bloody murder. His screaming wakes his sister at 5:15AM, forcing mama out of bed for a man-to-man defense to try and handle the situation. Both children are taken downstairs and there is an attempted feeding. The dog starts barking, incessantly, out the window at a squirrel or cat or butterfly or some other creature that has invaded her territory, causing Ryan to cry all the more. We struggle through feeding the children, then take turns watching them in the playroom while we each attempt to eat some breakfast ourselves. At 7AM, we try and put both of them back down for a nap, hoping they will sleep some before going to church. Doesn't work. They both just cry. We again take turns guarding, I mean watching, the children while the other gets showered and dressed. Finally, just before we need to leave the house to be on time to church, they both fall asleep. We put them in the car, thankful for a little peace and quiet as we drive to church. We wake them as we arrive 10 minutes late to church. We get out of the car, frazzled, but put on our best church smile as a parking lot greeter comes over to help us. Ryan spits up on my shirt. I look at my wife and say, "Oh well." We finally make it to our assigned place to walk into the service for baby dedication, only to have our daughter screaming that she wants to go on the playground. We bribe her with a promise of ice cream, or a sucker, or a bar of gold from Fort Knox - anything to hush her up before going into big church. We finally walk in with the other families and...

both children are perfect during the entire dedication.

Please walk up to us afterwards and say, "Aren't your children just the most well behaved?" We smile and give our nod of approval to this myth.

The truth probably lies somewhere in between these two scenarios. Either way, I'm looking forward to being, "Just a Dad," and promising, along with the other dads, that I will raise my child in a Godly household, regardless of which scene becomes my reality.