Culture

Boxed Creativity

2 comments Written on May 25th, 2013     
Filed under: Culture, Formation, Vocation and Call

Today’s post is written by Chris Logan, Pastor of Worship Arts at Community Covenant Church in Lenexa, KS.

Lately I’ve been finding myself preoccupied with the many limitations that life places on me, and it has led to a certain sense of failure in so many places. Ministry seems consistently busy, so I don’t feel like much of a parent or husband. Life gets busy for other people, so I don’t have the sort of volunteer involvement in my ministry that I need (or at least, wish I had). I get busy, so I don’t exercise and thus feel like a total failure at maintaining a healthy weight (much less getting down to one). Life, it seems, has a tendency to get task-driven when I feel like a failure, and so I inevitably miss the orchestra for the instruments (or however the saying goes); I drive myself to perform, to succeed at everything.

And of course, with such a self-made mandate, I inevitably fail.

Cue cycle restart.

Upon confessing this, someone said this to me: “Your congregation doesn’t need you to be a good performer, they need you to be a good pastor. This has to be a group effort, or it’s all for nothing.”

To paraphrase Phil Hansen, true creativity doesn’t happen when we have unlimited resources of time, money, volunteers, energy, or willpower, but rather, true creativity happens within constraints. When we are forced to prioritize, when we are forced to make the main thing the main thing, we become artists. For me, that means being a worship PASTOR and not a performance artist or booking agent or any other myriad of things (what’s yours?).

What would happen if, instead of seeing a limitation …

… in the number of instruments or voices I can use
… in the available pieces of music that I like (or think will work in my setting)
… in the amount of time I have at home with my kids and wife
… in the finances for ministry or life

… what if instead of seeing a limitation, I started seeing the possibilities that God is opening up for my creativity? What if this is a chance to do something new and novel because of what I don’t have? What if, by ceasing to worry about the boxes placed on me (over which I have little control), I suddenly find that in embracing my limitations, I’ve been set free?



Posture

Post a Comment » Written on March 22nd, 2013     
Filed under: Culture, Missional, Visual Arts

Today’s post is written by Chris Logan, Pastor of Worship Arts at Community Covenant Church in Lenexa, KS and originally appeared as companion reading material for C3′s current sermon series.

Divorce. Lust. Politics.

Some things are just really, really hard to talk about. In part, it’s because they affect so many people in so many different ways, and lots of those people are very dear to us and we don’t want to hurt our relationship with them by saying something that could be misinterpreted. But really, when we get right down to it, some things are just not as cut-and-dry as we wish they were. We try to make them black and white and easy to digest, but the discussion goes round and around and around again, one answer feeling trite or shallow, another answer feeling like it’ll require too much from me, still another feeling like it’ll offend too many people. Our culture has a tendency to make certain things awkward to discuss because of unspoken taboos; don’t mess with our individuality, for example, it’ll go very badly for you if you do.

So given that we probably shouldn’t passive-aggressively avoid them, how ought we discuss these difficult issues?

Over the last few weeks, we’ve heard the phrase “acting our way into a new way of thinking” in the sermons at C3. In case you have no idea what this means, I discovered a TED talk by Dr. Amy Cuddy that illustrates this really well. The principle behind what Dr. Cuddy and her colleagues describe has a HUGE range of possibilities for application in all areas of life. But for our purposes, I want to draw your attention to something we did this past week in our worship gatherings because it illustrates so well the answer to this question. For those of you who couldn’t join us, during our prayer time before the sermon, we asked that each half of the sanctuary turned to face each other while standing. We then asked that you raise a hand with open palm towards each other across the room, a posture we called “blessing each other.” In social psychology, this is called an “open posture.”

We wanted to begin our conversation with a posture of grace.

Remember this? This is what I’m talking about

By physically opening ourselves in a posture of vulnerability and openness, we allow the reality of the other to become more tangible to us; we begin to act our way to a new way of thinking. Truth without tears is a dangerous thing; people have been deeply wounded by discussions about divorce, sexuality, and politics. We are to enter discussions of difficulty with hospitality, because hospitality is the act of advocating for the other. We wanted to posture ourselves first and foremost in a way that helps us to care about those around us, to show them – and ourselves – that those with different experiences or those who had made different, often difficult choices are no less human than we. We did not place ourselves in a posture of power, but in a posture of confident humility.

And nobody can cast the first stone.

Question for discussion: what other postures can (or do) you take in your workplace, school, or home to advocate for the other?



Kingdom Work

Today’s post is written by Jo Anne Taylor, Worship Pastor at Bethlehem Covenant Church, Minneapolis, MN.

It started off innocently enough. Someone mentioned enjoying a particular Christian artist’s latest CD, and wondered which tracks others might be using in their own worship contexts. After a dozen or so responses, an issue was raised that turned the discussion in a new direction. Describing the inclusion of a prominent hip-hop artist on one track of the recording, the commenter wrote: “This song, though catchy and well-written within its genre, is another example of a person in power representing a dominant culture unintentionally sending the message that the only way for outsiders to get respect and recognition from that dominant culture is to acquiesce to and subsume one’s self within it.”

Nearly  - oops – Over a hundred comments later, covering a number of tangential topics, that early comment about the messages outsiders get from the dominant culture still convicts me, and I ponder the part I play in perpetuating a system that excludes more than it embraces.

Jelani Greenidge explains, “Because when it comes to Christian music, if you want into the upper echelon of recognition and stardom, people of color MUST learn to do the kind of music that White people appreciate, but White musicians are NOT required to do the same.” Jelani sees this as “blatant indication of the injustice inherent in the power structures that support Christian music, and it’s difficult for me to watch others support that success without also attacking the inequity of those structures. It is passive acquiescence of racism that allows it to continue to perpetuate.”

Some time ago, Jelani joined me on this blog to initiate a discussion about multicultural worship, and what that might look like. It was a polite exchange, and comments supported such a discussion – but they didn’t really engage in it.  This past week, the discussion has gone deep, and I want to share a few anonymous excerpts to get you thinking about what it means to be part of the Body of Christ, to honor and celebrate the many cultures that contribute to our corporate worship, and what it means to stand up to a music industry that marginalizes many of our most talented brothers and sisters because they aren’t white, aren’t male, or aren’t younger than 35. Ponder these thoughts prayerfully. Consider the part you play in this unjust system, and also consider what you might do to become part of that system’s redemption. Because this is Kingdom work. Continue Reading »



Connect

8 comments Written on February 22nd, 2013     
Filed under: Culture, Dangerous Worship, Formation, Liturgy

Today’s post is written by Chris Logan, Pastor of Worship Arts at Community Covenant Church in Lenexa, KS.

Have you ever considered how worship gatherings fit into the context of discipleship?

The connection is actually quite strong. To be honest, I had never really thought about it much until I was at a conference a few months ago, and Mindy Caliguire spent a great deal of time talking about discipleship (it turns out that’s what she does at Willow Creek). One of the things she mentioned was that discipleship, while it’s often looked at as a small group or one-on-one sort of responsibility, can be a large group practice. We learn and grow together not only as we read or have conversations, but also as we engage corporately, as the combined voices and minds and hearts of many.

It’s a perspective that should change the way we approach crafting worship gatherings.

For one, the music takes on a new significance; it’s a part of the process of forming all of us into the image of Jesus. These are not a random assortment of songs we enjoy singing; they must be carefully chosen and rehearsed. Furthermore, every part of the music – not just the words – must be carefully thought through; lyrics incorrectly paired with style or flavor changes the way we tell the story. The order of music – and of the whole gathering, from music to liturgy to message, even to the announcements – matters because in the environment that we choose to create people will have a better chance (or not) of connecting with the Creator.

Connections.

What we are doing is helping people make connections, because that’s what a good story does. In the process of crafting a worship gathering as story, we can help our congregations connect what they learned last week to the next week; we can help them connect to creation and to each other; we can help them connect to their Maker and Redeemer.

The thing about connections is that they don’t happen to us; we have to participate in them. Nobody can connect me to God without my permission and conscious engagement – nor to my neighbor. Connections – true, meaningful, lasting, deep connections – happen in the midst of discovery. On some fundamental level, we do not own those connections unless we discover them for ourselves.

Which begs a question: what story are we telling?

Does the story we are telling in and with our gatherings help make those connections, that discovery? To help others to make discoveries, should we be giving answers, or asking more questions? Is it possible that by providing simple answers (how complex could those answers possibly be with only an hour or less to give them?) we’re robbing those in our care of the joy of discovery?

More to the point, what is the nature of the content? If the gospel we preach is so revolutionary and could change the world, it’s a dangerous story to tell. Do we tell dangerous stories or sing dangerous songs? Since God is always advancing towards us – the gospel is always advancing – our gatherings are one of the places that heaven and earth can intersect, overlap, collide.

Connect …

… if we let them.



Still

1 Comment » Written on January 25th, 2013     
Filed under: Culture, Leadership, Missional, Order of Worship

Today’s post is written by Chris Logan, Pastor of Worship Arts at Community Covenant Church in Lenexa, KS.

Over the last few months I’ve been part of a “cohort” (whatever that means) of other pastors around Kansas City Metro, led by Brad Brisco and Lance Ford of the FORGE:America Mission Network. We’ve been discussing what it means to be “missional,” the sent people of God. The missional church movement, with its roots in the emerging church movement (which was soooo ’90’s) has been a strong critic of Consumer Christianity; we are not here for ourselves, we have been “called out” to be a blessing to the world. It’s all very biblical stuff, it’s a message our churches desperately need to hear, and it’s a message we desperately need to enact because it is a call to return to the roots of our faith.

In and amongst the large questions of “missional,” however, we worship pastors can often feel lost. It’s all very senior-pastory stuff, very big-vision, very theological and in some ways, very abstract. But when the rubber meets the road, it also calls into question one of our fundamental reasons for being worship pastors: the worship gathering. It’s why we were hired in the first place: the (usually) Sunday morning gathering has long been a staple of Christian practice in the West – in one form or another – for more than a thousand years. So long, in fact, that many of us tend to forget why we do this; “we’ve always done it that way”; “we have to gather, that’s when we worship”; “Jesus said to do it that way;” and other such nonsense.

The gathering tends to take the brunt of the critique because, in many minds, the gathering IS church. A whole generation of pastors preached this; we still often call the buildings in which we gather “churches,” as if they can be that apart from the group of people who gather there. I still find myself slipping into that talk when I talk about it with my kids; we have no other word for it!

Now, most of us can agree that worship is first and foremost a way of life; to live oriented towards God is to worship. The two can be equated, I think. Mark Labberton makes a case for this in his book, “Dangerous Worship”, to which I hope he makes reference at Midwinter this year (and everyone going gave a shoutout). In Romans, Paul makes a good case for this too: “Therefore, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, offer yourselves as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God; this is true worship.” There are good reasons to gather together weekly. Scripture DOES say we shouldn’t forsake gathering together. Jesus spent large amounts of time teaching his disciples apart from the crowds.

But Jesus also said, “go.”

Jesus also said “make disciples of ALL nations.”

Jesus said we were to go to the very ends of the earth.

And how we emphasize this in our gatherings is important. It’s not an either/or, but a both/and: we gather, and we are sent, gather, and send. We worship pastors are discipleship pastors too, but for us, it means discipling a whole congregation all at once through our art, through music, and through the liturgy we write. How we choose to lead can emphasize this rhythm of gather and send. A benediction, literally a “good word,” is a time for us to remind ourselves of our sent-ness. The good word is that we do not cease to be this gathered people when the doors swing shut on our way to the parking lot, because being sent is a part of offering ourselves. It means that, when Monday comes, we’re still the Church.

When we’re cut off in traffic, we’re still the Church.

When our coworkers invite us to the suspicious wing joint next door, we’re still the Church.

When our kids do that one thing that always makes us angry, we’re still the Church.

When we know that it’s time to study – but Facebook sits there beckoning – we’re still the Church.

And how we respond is worship too.



Nova

3 comments Written on December 28th, 2012     
Filed under: Culture, Liturgy, Style of Worship

Today’s post is written by Chris Logan, Pastor of Worship Arts at Community Covenant Church in Lenexa, KS.

“And the one sitting on the throne said, ‘Look, I am making everything new!’ And then he said to me, ‘Write this down, for what I tell you is trustworthy and true.’“ [Revelation 21:5]

Tradition and Novelty have, at best, a tenuous relationship in the Church, especially at Christmas (yes, it’s still Christmas, liturgically speaking). It’s a stress point for many creative-types, myself included. The sentimentality of “what we’ve always done” (a stark contrast to the rest of the year in our culture, by the way) tends to dominate our lives for at least the four-ish weeks of Advent; we are judged by the way we can keep to the traditions of the season, and if we lament this at all, we’re called a “scrooge.” While some of the traditions have lost any meaning for us beyond sentimentality (insert the one that annoys you most), some of these traditions continue to inspire most of us towards worship of the Creator (even the most “scrooge-ish” person will have a hard time arguing with candles in a dark room singing … well, anything, really).

It’s a matter of perspective.

Most years, I’m the guy who can’t wait for Christmas to be over; I couldn’t stand the same music in the same way, couldn’t stand the extra work, and couldn’t stand the materialism, consumerism, all the ‘isms. Bah humbug for me. This year, however, I decided at the beginning to try and experience it in a way that might lead me to grow. It changed a lot; many of the songs still annoyed me (though I did change a few chord progressions to make them more interesting), but I found that going into it with the question, “Where is Jesus here?” brought new meaning to things that had, in my mind, become zombies. “O Holy Night,” for example, suddenly came alive, when before, all I could hear was a terrible recording I heard in college of a guy who couldn’t hit the high G.

One of the traditions of our church at Advent is to have a new(er) church family light the candle for us, read the scripture for the week, and share some of their own family traditions with the church. This year, the guide I created for one particular Sunday asked the question, “Share with us: what are you doing this Christmas that’s new? Have there been changes in your family that have prompted a new approach to an otherwise familiar holiday? Have these been easy or difficult to adopt?” The family’s response has stuck with me the last few weeks and, though this is a clumsy paraphrase, I thought I’d share it.

They described how one little trip they didn’t usually take took the whole season and threw all of their traditions off, and yet, in the midst of all the change, they discovered through their kids that this might not have been a bad thing. Instead of relying on their family traditions to get them “into the spirit of the season,” they had to focus instead on the story itself – the Savior Himself. Over time, the traditions had clouded that for them. But the kids got it; for them, Jesus was still the center of the story. Jen said,

“I realized that this is what we are constantly trying to teach our children, and through the hurriedness of life, I was the one who had lost perspective. I simply needed to see Christmas through the eyes of my children. So when you ask, ‘What are you doing new this season,’ our answer is ‘Everything, and maybe that’s just what we needed.’”

What do we really need?

God is a God of faithfulness to His promises, to His traditions as it were. He is true to His character, and works within the flesh of a culture to make Himself known. But so too, God is a God of creativity – He is the Creator; He makes everything new.

With God, there are but constant beginnings, even for tradition.

With God, the old is given new life, every time.

With God, the ancient of days becomes a newborn baby.

With God, even death gives way to resurrection.

What are you doing new this year?



When tragedy strikes…

2 comments Written on December 14th, 2012     
Filed under: Culture, Current Events, Leadership, Liturgy, News

Today’s post is written by Geoff Twigg, Adjunct Professor at North Park University in Chicago. Geoff is a pastor, singer/songwriter, worship leader and ministry consultant, and serves the ECC as a member of the denomination’s Commission on Worship.

Someone posted on the Better Together Facebook group: “It’s Friday morning, December 14th, and  the world just changed. Do I alter my worship plans for Sunday morning, or carry on singing ‘Mary’s Boy Child,’ ‘Joy to the World,’ and ‘What Child is This’?”. It seems that someone got into a school in Connecticut this morning, and though the news is not yet clear we have heard that 27 people are dead including 18 children. The question posted to our Facebook community is a very good one.

Anything we say can sounds trite at a time like this. Emotions are raw, and the shock we experience, together with the current media style of repetitious, slowly evolving news cycles, means that we are fatigued by the terrible things we hear.

The Church exists, in part at least, to help in situations like this. The world is asking the “why” questions now, today, and perhaps we should be ready to answer them with God’s truth. That’s a lesson we can learn and grow from – to be ready with an explanation of the hope we hold dear. Even now, it’s worth trying to put our thoughts into prayer and take them to the Throne of Grace… Lord, why does this happen? How can we bring comfort to those bereaved and devastated? What, Lord, do you want us to bring to the society in which we live?

In our own hearts, we should be sure that the God who was worthy of praise and adoration yesterday is the same Lord today, still worthy, still expressing grace, mercy and comfort. We’re still God’s people, and the hands and feet of Christ on the earth.

If anyone can stand with those who mourn, it’s the followers of Christ. If there’s anyone who sees the big picture of God’s love for the world, of death and resurrection in Christ, of the sheer hopelessness of a world that lives in the shadow of sin and needs comfort – it’s us. We can stand among our friends and neighbors in the midst of suffering, and gently hold their hands as we grieve together.

Years ago now, our third child died as an infant, just before Christmas. The holidays were forever changed, of course, as we will always remember and be grateful for Andrew’s short life.

Just a few weeks later I was back leading worship at a large event – as a freelance musician I didn’t get paid unless I worked – and I felt like a hypocrite, so I went to the Leadership Counseling that was offered.

The counselors – a couple who had suffered much, and shone profoundly with the light of Christ – were very helpful. They prayed with me, and their kind and wise words brought much peace. Among the things I remember was a challenge; this is a time, they said, to mourn, but also to praise God for the hope you have in the resurrection.

It is not hypocrisy to praise God at a time like this, but it is a sensitive time to draw close to the God of all comfort and speak comfort to our neighbors on God’s behalf.



Happy Holidays?

6 comments Written on December 7th, 2012     
Filed under: Advent, Culture, Missional

Today’s post is written by Matt Nightingale, Director of Worship Ministries at Redeemer Covenant Church in Tulsa, OK.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the so-called “War on Christmas” lately. Here in Tulsa, it’s kind of a big thing. You see, a few years ago, the decision was made to change the name of our annual Christmas Parade to the “Holiday Parade of Lights,” and when that happened, people were not happy. The unhappiness continued until last year, when an alternative was proposed. Another parade at another venue. At exactly the same time. Peace on Earth. Goodwill to men.

Sides were formed, lines were drawn, senators lobbied, and even FOX news weighed in. And the newly-formed “Christmas Parade at Tulsa Hills” was a resounding success. 20,000 people showed up. My family and I went to the Holiday Parade, and I’m no good at estimating crowds, but… I’m thinking Christmas won. This year the parades are happening at the same time again, tomorrow night at 7:00. And again, many people are “standing up” for Christmas. You can read about it in one of the Tulsa World’s blogs.

Here’s the thing. I don’t think Christmas is going anywhere. I have a friend whose wife is Jewish. She says that every year Christmas seems to get bigger and bigger! Although I strongly disagree with the whole idea of “standing up for Christmas,” I know these people. They are good-hearted, Jesus-loving people who deeply care about helping people, sharing their faith and living lives that please God. This is not a problem of intention. But I really believe that many people have never wrestled with the real issues at stake here. As Sean Palmer writes in a brilliant blog post today, there is a war, and it is about Christmas, but it’s not what we think:

There is a terrible, profound war on Christmas. Since that “O Holy Night” there always has been. But if you believe this war is about a 20-year-old check-out girl at a department store wishing you “Happy Holidays” rather than “Merry Christmas,” you’ve simply let loose of your horses. The real war is within you and it is within me.

Read the rest of his post here. It’s well worth your time.

May the true Jesus, the Jesus who came to bring peace to all humankind, who willingly gave up His rights and power, be honored during this season as we celebrate His advent and birth. And may we who are called to bear His name extend His love and grace to all – even those who celebrate Hannukah and Kwanzaa – as we remember that non-Christians are not our enemies.

And even if they were, I think Jesus was pretty clear about how we are to treat our enemies.

What would happen if it were the Christians who were going out of our way to include everyone, to make everyone feel special and loved this holiday season, rather than the Christians fighting for power, demanding our “rights”? What if we were laying down our lives and spreading the message of Jesus in our actions instead of our proclamations? Let’s try it and see.

Happy Holidays.



Reorient and Engage: More Like Worshippers, Less Like Critics

3 comments Written on November 30th, 2012     
Filed under: Arts, Church History, Church Year, Culture, Formation, Leadership, Music, Style of Worship, Visual Arts

Today’s post is written by Jeff Olson, Pastor of Worship Arts at Christ Church in East Greenwich, RI, where he has served for over six years.

In Advent a strong theme of waiting exists, but here is why you should almost never wait to engage in the arts in your church.

“Next to the Word of God, music deserves the highest praise. The gift of language combined with the gift of song was given to man that he should proclaim the Word of God through Music.” Martin Luther penned this bold assertion nearly half a millennium ago but I would argue these words of wisdom from this reformer should still be taken seriously today.

In Luther’s day, many were illiterate, and until the invention of the printing press, seeing, holding and touching a Bible was about as common as my Minnesota Vikings putting together a quality Super Bowl caliber team. In fact, a whole town would be fortunate if they owned and had access to one copy of the Word of God, let alone if most of them could even read it. Scripture was, therefore, almost exclusively read in the presence of others. If you could not take your Bible home and study it, how did brothers and sisters of the faith grow and remember particular stories and teachings from the Word of God?

This is where the Arts come in. Many of the great paintings of antiquity, plays and poems, and the great time-tested hymns of the faith were often used in the absence of a Bible (or iPad app) as a tool to teach about faith, tell the great stories of the Bible and to teach solid theology. Think about it: All of the best art was Church art. Michelangelo’s greatest gig was painting the inside of a church (the Sistine Chapel); Bach was one of the prominent worship leaders/pastors of his day. Great art and Church were almost synonymous for much of the last 2000 years of European history. Art often played a pivotal role in educating the Church about who God was and in the role of participation with one another in faith.

Fast forward a few centuries and we are in a different world in some respects. One of the greatest inventions to promote art in a variety of forms may also, if we are not careful, help to destroy it. For nearly all of human history it was a big deal to hear live music or see a painting, even if it was so-so in terms of quality. Why? Because we had no device to capture a recording and we had no digital camera to make Van Gogh’s Starry Night our latest screen saver. In some ways, this proliferation of art has meant that we now have exposure to so many great works of art, which is a wonderful thing. However, the sometimes sinister shadow of this blessing is that perhaps we have become so over saturated with the ability to see and hear whatever we want when we want, that we have become more like critics and less like worshippers.

What do I mean by this bold claim? Well, when we come across a song that is not exactly what we are in the mood for or a painting that is in a style we do not like, rather than just being thankful for the gift that the art is or seek to see what we can learn about God or hear from Him, we evaluate it and often determine if we will or will not engage based, not on its truth or how it can help us grow, but whether we “like it” or “not” according to our tastes.

Now let me say this directly: It’s OK to have preferences, but when our preferences become our gauge of whether or not to engage in worshipping God or joining with our brothers and sisters, that does present a problem. Think for a moment. If we knowingly applied this same hermeneutic to reading the Bible, we would likely not have much left to read!

So how do we go about moving more towards worshippers and less toward critics? Two words, reorient and engage.

What is the purpose of art? Asking this question reorients us in the right direction. Good art in our churches, like scripture, is not necessarily about being happy (though joy is a major factor in the Christian faith), but about helping us become holy. Good art is not necessarily always supposed to please or even entertain you but rather to move you closer to God and His mission. In fact, like the Word of God, art should at times be “hard to swallow” because it should not only encourage, uplift and educate, but also convict, shed light on dark areas of our lives and help to painstakingly and beautifully develop our faith walk just as it was used in Luther’s day.

But it will only help us grow if we choose to engage. I have mentioned in worship services that singing (or any art for that matter) is sacred work for both the artist and observer alike. Like any other action or discipline, we cannot grow without intentionally engaging and participating (work). Now engagement looks different for different people, but what engagement does not look like is treating any art as we treat our screen saver background or a song on the radio. Good art, if made with care and attention, is speaking about God and to God and prompting us to engage with God and others; and this is not something we should ever miss the opportunity to engage in. A bold question I often ask myself is if I am not in a period of mourning and I know the words of a song and they are true, does not engaging seem like a viable option? Engagement does not mean we ourselves have to be world-class painters or soloists, but rather we are engaged with one another in using this tool to grow and connect together with God and his mission.

Are we using art to engage in worship or as an item to be critiqued? Perhaps for all of us, regardless of the quality of the art, the better question is: How can I not sing and engage in praising God and reminding those around me who He is at any and every opportunity I can get?

Art can often make us happy, and that can be a beautiful thing, but good art can also be more than that – it can help in making us holy.

So this Advent, as we again revisit the texts of the promised Messiah and that holy idea of waiting, let us never wait or hold back in engaging in our worship of Him in any and every form, circumstance and style (including art) that is humanly possible.



The Worship of Thankfulness

2 comments Written on November 23rd, 2012     
Filed under: Culture

Today’s post is written by Chris Logan, Pastor of Worship Arts at Community Covenant Church in Lenexa, KS.

“Rejoice always. Pray continually. Give thanks in all circumstances. This is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. … The one who calls you is faithful …” [1 Thess. 5:16-18, 24a]

For what are you thankful this year?