Worship

In our comfort, the men of the church have abdicated their role as leaders.  They are afraid to speak up and the quality of our worship suffers.

I arrive each Sunday morning

with some anticipation

that perhaps I’ll find it again.

Worship.

I feel no comfort, only anxiety.

Has it left me, or have I left it?

Am I on the wrong page?

The buzz of people talking in the sanctuary

before the service,

politics, health, sports, gossip,

it creates quite a din.

No time for quiet reflection,

thoughts of God,

relief from the every day.

Hustle to be on time.

Announcements with prayers in them.

Prayers with announcements in them.

Racks with unused hymnals,

silent reminders of the inspired

utterances of saintly poets.

Sometimes we sing one or two,

rarely stopping for a breath between them

so we can chant some over used chorus

several times while craning our necks

to see the words displayed high above

on a drop down screen.

No music to follow.  Just some bouncy tune

that we should know because we

hear it so often.

It makes me want to bunny hop down the aisle.

I squirm and hope that the song service ends soon.

Worship.

Dennis Price