Having Church Around the Table

I have often told people that one of the best things about marrying my wife is that her family came with her. I have never had any issues at all with my in-laws, and the family on both her mother and father’s side are wonderful people. But one of my in-laws who is especially charming is her Aunt Mary. Aunt Mary is the epitome of gracious Southern ladies, and when we have the opportunity to visit with her she puts on a showcase of hospitality. She is a wonderful cook, a perfect hostess, and works very hard to make sure that everyone feels welcome and a part of the conversation. When she knows that we’re coming, she invites my wife’s cousins over to her house, and there are laughs, sometimes a few tears, old and new stories, and usually a lavish feast. Any stranger could walk in and immediately recognize that there is a lot of love shared around that table.

What I’ve come to understand is that a meal around Aunt Mary’s table is a wonderful model of worship. What happens around our family table is the same thing that happens when the family of Christ gathers together: we laugh with each other and celebrate together. We cry with each other and support each other. We share our stories, and share the unspoken knowledge that we are all related to each other through our faith in Christ. Sure, we have our differences from time to time, but they should never be so strong as to threaten the bond of family. Each week when we gather together to celebrate and worship the head of our family, there is a lavish feast set before us. On some Sundays that will include bread and wine or juice on an actual table. On other Sundays we are treated to the living bread that is God’s spoken and sung word.

Granted, not every part of the meal is to our taste or something from which we are nourished. Aunt Mary usually has some fine homegrown tomatoes, but they’re not for me; I’m not a fan of tomatoes. But I know that there are others at the table who love them, are nourished by them, and who are glad when I let them pass me by so that they can have their fill. There are some who don’t like the yellow squash casserole. I love it. So in worship, as in a family dinner, we can’t let ourselves dismiss the entire meal just because a certain course doesn’t match our desires. That particular course in worship may have been just the food that someone in our spiritual family desperately needed on that day.

As church musicians, and sometimes even as worshipers, we can easily miss out on the meal. Sometimes we are so worried about the quality of what we do, the particulars of our presentation, and what we’re expected to do next, that we forget to be a part of the family meal. We forget to actually let ourselves worship. This is one of Aunt Mary’s greatest gifts to the family. Everyone at the table knows the amount of preparation and work that she put into the meal, but when it is time to gather and partake, she is no longer concerned with the particulars of the recipes; she is then fully a part of the celebration. We rehearse to the best of our abilities, and we certainly don’t take lightly the responsibility we have taken upon ourselves to present music that is powerful and supportive of the worship service. But we can’t make our presentation so consuming that we forget why we’re there. We are there because we are a part of the family. There’s a place at the table that is set just for us. Christ wants us to partake of the feast, to enjoy the time we spend with him and our family, and to let the concerns of how well we sing or play have their place, but not be our sole focus.

As musicians and worship leaders, let us come each week bringing our best but remembering why we are there. We are there because we have been invited to a heavenly banquet. Christ himself is serving us the very best food for our souls. Let’s not forget to be a part of the celebration.