when the music fades

an excerpt from something i've been thinking about/jotting.
(from the pages of my sketchbook on the 28th)

somehow... i feel like a little boy named daniel in the bronx understands more about the meaning or worship than i or the meeting around me ever will. because we live in such an easy society. because we live in a society where everything is easy. cheap. phone breaks? buy a new one. so and so breaks, we can replace it, reverse it, buy a new one.

and when we sing songs about grace.. light... hope.. we really don't know what they mean. because we've never really known what it means to be without hope.. mercy... light. it's like being in this normal dreary ithaca weather. it's all that much nicer when the sun comes out....

and here we are. in the united states. acting, singing like we know what hope, love, justice are. how do we really know love without its absence? how do we know what true worship is without knowing what it feels like to be persecuted? not being allowed to sing the contemporary christian songs, the bible that collects dust in the corner. how often do we think worship is a slew of songs, notes, progressions? if this is what it is... then i wish i could go back to new york.

what does worship look like?

a bit of jadedness, questioning, and realization during worship team practice.

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