Mike and I attended a leadership conference at a large church in central Florida recently, a district event that happens yearly. It was state of the art- first rate. There’s nothing wrong with that. I love elegance as much as anyone and observed a stunning and modern campus with sleek grounds, perfectly edged grass and lush Florida landscape; a separate school building that rivaled anything the public system has to offer; a coffee shop that many of the ‘relevant’ churches are now sporting, a variety of workshop help sessions throughout the day and Christian vendors lining the hallways promoting books and curriculum for various types of church ministry programs; a contemporary sanctuary with layers of balcony graduating in a graceful flow up the side walls; up-to–date media, technology, sound equipment and lighting; a hip looking worship team spread out across the platform, beautiful voices and amazing harmonies lifted up to God along with a full worship band consisting of keyboards, guitars and drums; and of course, the awesome big name speaker with a soul searching, heart stirring message, that any pastor hopes to have as a guest in their pulpit. I marveled at the excellence of a people doing God’s work in a Florida community, giving their very best to the Lord. It radiated out of every pore of the facility and this event.
As I took all this in, snapshots of another service I attended earlier in the week were darting through my mind. Joyful Noise* is a gathering for adults who are mentally challenged and other than the format of a service there isn’t much typical about it. I take Jon there on Tuesday afternoons. It meets at a small church that is neat and clean but certainly not fancy, just like the special people who show up for this gathering. Most of them, fifteen to twenty, come with caregivers or parents. They attend adult day programs and live in group homes or with parents or a family member. A few have part time jobs and their own assisted living apartment. They are an eclectic mix of personalities, abilities and behaviors trying to survive in a world that isn’t always sure where they belong, but here, during this time set aside for them and Jesus, they understand that He accepts them just as they are.
Snacks and ‘fellowship’ start the service. After everyone settles into a seat, prayer requests are taken, some like those we all have and some more unique: “Pray for my friend at the group home, he is sick.” “My grandmother is having an operation.” “Pray for Junior to be forgiven.” What?! Who’s Junior? Caregivers and parents give each other puzzled glances. We smile, shrug our shoulders, write it down and move on only to find out later that Junior is our last president, George Bush, and the one requesting this is an avid Democrat who thinks Obama is great and Bush needs to repent. I guess that’s not so unusual after all. Just watch CNN or MSNBC for five minutes.
After prayer it’s time to worship and small instruments are handed out- tambourines, maracas, mini drums with one short drum stick. Peter can’t or doesn’t talk, but faithfully carries in his karaoke system, in its original box, each week and has carefully set it up on the top step of the platform, plugging in two microphones. He is in charge of playing the selection of songs on CDs for the singing part of the gathering- worship songs and choruses from a few decades ago.
Jon, who keeps to himself, beelines for the real drum set up on stage. He took lessons for a few years (until his brain reached a place of no more comprendo 🙂 when he was a teenager. He keeps a rather proficient rhythm going while everyone else banging a mini percussion instrument attempts to keep up.
Once the music starts anyone can come up and ‘’lead’’ the song that is playing. The social ones in the group- Jerry, Neil, Debbie and Hazel are happy to comply, more than once if possible. One or two of them run to the front and grab a microphone. Peter sits on the step next to his sound system making the sign of the cross with his index fingers. Kyle smiles, looks up at the ceiling and rocks back and forth in his chair. Lisa shouts, pumps her arms in the air and laughs. Leslie lies with his twisted limbs restricted to his stroller like wheel chair, grinning and moaning with the music. Jimmy sits cross legged in the front row, watching and hoping someone will let him play his CD he brought from home. The new guy feels a seizure coming on, stands up and bolts out the door, his caregiver running after him. The music and singing flow on. We barely sing on key or in unison and no one notices, especially God. We all feel Him in the room, walking and smiling among these people who believe in Him with all their hearts and adore Him with the simplicity of childlike faith.
Church services are part and parcel of my life. Being raised in the church from a young age and involved in church work and ministry most of my adult life, there is little about the church and its people that surprise me. I love God’s people and all that comes with being a part of them. I love worshipping my Lord in the midst of His saints. But this world of the disabled, where I am surrounded by an often forgotten segment of humanity, feels like another planet compared to the “normal” church services I find myself in. It is a place few experience, a place of total acceptance, openness, and love. There are no professional voices, worship bands, state-of-the-art sound or video and no façade or pretense; just simple people with nothing to hide, who meet to praise a Jesus who loves and accepts them for who they are. His presence is the one place where they are completely loved.
As I stood with a thousand or so people during the evening service of the conference, a video of our Tuesday special gathering replayed again and again in my heart. God was reminding me that the external mechanics of our modern, western Christianity are just side benefits to the real purpose. What He desires are a people who will worship Him in spirit and truth regardless of the bells and whistles. On Tuesdays with Jon and his unique peers, Sundays with a full congregation and all the trimmings or any day all by myself, God is great and worthy to be praised. As long as my heart always makes Him priority, the externals, while nice, really don’t matter. Any time He dwells among a people whose most fervent desire is to give back to Him all the worship He deserves, that is the most special gathering of all.
*Joyful Noise meets at My Refuge Church on Firehouse Road, Deland, FL from 3:30pm to 5pm every Tuesday. Adults with disabilities, their families and caregivers are invited to attend.
Thanks for sharing this moving article. Susan Tanner who heads Joyful Noise has been so faithful to share the Lord with this important community. Linda Howard