A Flaw with the Christian Left

I do not often listen to Christian music. This is partly because I associate it with the glib, shallow Christianity of the "All right, everybody clap for Jesus!" variety. For me, that sort of casual familiarity -- as if Jesus were a rock star or a motivational speaker or an attendee at an AA meeting -- fails to do justice to the mystery of God. But last night, driving to an Atlanta-area coffee drinking establishment, I stumbled onto a Christian radio station (93.3, I believe). They were playing a band I recognized -- Caedmon's Call -- so I listened. The chorus had something to do with being in the hands of the potter.

It was one of the more worshipful moments I've had in a while.

So why am I somewhat embarrassed to write about a "worshipful" moment? Because I'm afraid my liberal friends will read it. "Worshipful" smacks of evangelicalism, of hand-raising, gay-marriage-banning, and -- perhaps worst of all -- of anti-intellectualism. I mean, worship? Wouldn't it be more productive to hold another "dialogue" about race relations? Or about interfaith issues? Jeez, if you get sucked into this worship stuff, won't you wind up handling snakes, speaking in tongues, and voting for tax cuts for the rich? It's a slippery slope.

NO. It's not. And I don't know many people who really believe that. So why does it feel that way? I think my fellow Christian progressives and I have allowed conservative Christians to claim worship as their private property. It has to do with identity. They raise their hands and cry when they worship. We are not them, so we cannot. We meditate. We light candles. We dig incense. We get into chants and medieval prayers and songs. Of course, there's nothing wrong with any of that. But can we allow ourselves to experience the cathartic release of worship -- a loving surrender to the almighty, mysterious God? By defining ourselves against conservatives -- and, hence, against worship -- we strip ourselves of part of the rich experience of faith.

In the car, though, listening to the radio, I found an evangelical song that gave me a moment of worship. It was a reminder of my connection to a loving God who does not require me to vote Republican or confuse the flag with the cross. It was a reminder that conservative and liberal Christians worship the same God, even if we both find ways to mangle God's will. And it was a reminder that worship -- emotional, surrendering worship -- is an activity appropriate to all Christians, not just conservatives.

I pray I remember that. And I pray that my cohorts on the Christian left remember that we, too, worship a mighty God.