Guest Column by Mary Lou Dill

(Mary Lou has often told this story. I encouraged her to put it down in writing because it is so precious to me! I praise God for the older generation that has supported our worship team and has joined in worshipping in a new way! Thankyou Mary Lou! - Theresa)

Change. A word many of the older generation do not like to hear. So, here I am, a seventy-something widow entering the sanctuary and ready for one of the week’s highlights—the worship service. I have always loved the beautiful sounds of the organ and the piano as the prelude envelopes me. So I sit in my chair, speak to the others around me, and wait. And then I see it—or rather, I don’t see it. There is no organ. There is no piano. The choir chairs have disappeared. The choir members stand, the minister will use a music stand, and keyboards have appeared. Guitars and drums are added. Then the song leader — oops, worship leader— bounds onto the platform and worship begins. LOUD worship begins.

After I catch my breath at all the changes, I look around. The young people—those teenage kids who are too cool to enjoy any kind of church service—are actually singing. Some are even smiling and clapping. As I watch, I see the tremendous amount of energy and enthusiasm between all the younger people and the worship leader. And the worship leader? A sweet, sweet young man from a wonderful Christian family. His excitement and obvious love for the One he worships, and the ones he worships with, is contagious, even to a resisting little old lady.

Well, that was the beginning of our new worship service. Did we “old fogies” blow it out of the water? Absolutely not. We missed the old hymns and the gentleness of yesterday’s worship. But seeing the interest of the younger people was reason enough to keep quiet and start adjusting. After all, there weren’t too many words to learn for those new songs—mostly just the same phrases over and over.

And then time passed, as it always does. And our worship team used that time wisely. They toned down some of the volume. They built the order of worship around the central theme from the minister’s sermon. They brought back some of the old hymns. They read scripture. They spoke with heartfelt love and sorrow about mistakes they had made and the congregation thought, “I did that, too; maybe I can be a witnessing Christian after all.” And the words of the new songs? I discovered many of them were direct quotes from the Psalms and other scripture.

It is a new day at Scott Avenue Christian Church. This seventy-something grandmother can hardly wait for Sunday morning to come and once again be enveloped in a powerful, focused worship service.

Change? If the end result is half that of our worship service, I say, “Bring it on!”