Pilgrim of Worship 1: The Beginning

Stage 1: The Begining - It all started in a Southern Church of Christ just south of Minneapolis, Minnesota. How did a Southern Church of Christ get located near Minneapolis? Hey, in the 1970's they were all Southern Churches of Christ, no matter where they were located.

We sang the old hymns and Stamps Baxter tunes - from the red book of course. Blue book people were liberals. We sang "In the Bible We Read of a Beautiful Prayer" (because we had some great altos) and we had "Just A Little Talk With Jesus." On special Sundays there was the added extra singing on the chorus - slow and with feeling - the basses lead with a slow and deep "Nowwww let us...". That little extra took me right to the edge of excitement. We sang "Rock of Ages," although when Def Leppard came out with a song bearing the same name, the old one lost its edge.

I was an acappella only, hymn-singing, stand up for 728b, dyed in the wool C of C worshiper. Singing these songs and many other of the old favorites was the highlight of going to church. It was the music of God that kept me engaged.

About once or twice per year was the area-wide worship. All the Churches of Christ in the Twin Cities, all 7 of them, would gather together on Sunday afternoon and sing. 400 real Christians all together in one place. Wow. We were knock, knock, knocking on Heaven's door.

And preachers would preach, song leaders would lead, "the Black church" would have a singing group sing and man would they nail it. They were allowed to do such liberal things, I think, because they were Black. No one really said it like that; it was just understood.

I felt united in song. I knew a oneness and unity that could be matched in no other way.

However, there was a darkness about church, a discomfort - like breathing with half a lung. Because as great as the singing was is also as great as the challenge was to really be OK. In other words, had it not been for the singing, I might have suffocated.

Even though I knew that I was supposed to be fully satisfied with what was offered (it was the one true way afterall), there was this rebellious and scandalous desire in me that really wanted church life to be like the very best song ever sung. I wanted more.

Certainly I never let on. That, my friends, would have been suicide. I towed the line like a good boy and tried to excel in ways that were acceptable in my context. I did what I was told, but I was hungry.

Hunger does not just settle. It either grows in intensity or dies. All my hunger needed was some food...