It’s Easter. I’m grateful.

I’m sitting in church and the pastor is praying for the offering. I joked earlier that I might become a C & E Christian – not church of England, but a Christmas and Easter Christian to find out why it’s so popular. I think they might be called chreastians?

Anyway I’m good for my word, so here I am on Easter Sunday. And as I sit here blogging an hour into the service, I’m grateful. The worship is over, the multimedia vignette has played, the worship came back, then the offering was taken and now the pastor is asking for $250k for missions.

I’m grateful that I don’t have to preach today and come up with something that will motivate listeners. I’m grateful that no-one will tell me the music was too loud. That no-one will complain that it was too dark in the auditorium during worship and that worship should be “in the light”.

I’m glad that I won’t be part of the post mortem of the service to try and figure out if the service was effective. What numbers did we get? What was the offering? Was the media impacting? Were people happy? What was the “atmosphere” like? Why didn’t we get any salvations? Why did we go 15 minutes overtime? Did we achieve our goals?

This Easter He has risen. But I’m grateful that this year the buck didn’t stop with me and that I didn’t have to make the event happen.

Church communications specialist Tim Schraeder spends his first Easter in ten years not on church staff this year, and he sounds pretty grateful too.

He says “The sad thing is that for most church staff members the joy of Sunday isn’t the hope of the resurrection, the joy of knowing we have new life because we serve a Risen Savior… the joy is the relief that it’s all finally over.

I’m not sure that’s a good thing.” Full article here.

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2 Responses

  1. Sadly, I do not think that former church staff stand alone in these sentiments. I spent my Easter morning making sure the kids looked perfect and knew not to sing that Tao Cruz song in Sunday School again. I checked to make sure my neckline was not too low and my hem not too high. I even put on my wedding ring (the one I don’t usually wear because it falls off and am scared to wear it — the one someone complained that I don’t wear) Upon arrival, I smiled at the woman who left the church six months ago sighting me as the reason. ( She returned only to specify that it was in spite of me.) When I smiled at her, she looked away. I brought my husband a different pair of pants (he’s the youth pastor and was told I didn’t iron the first pair enough). I sat in the back row listening to the pastor talk about how heaven is real and God wants you there with Him. It sounded nice . . . much better than church.

    Maybe if we skipped the multimedia and pep rally for missions . . . maybe if worship was just singing . . . maybe if we would humble ourselves and pray . . . maybe if people could really just come as they are . . . maybe if was a little more about God and less about us . . . maybe then we would be more greatful for Easter and less greatful it’s over.

  2. Hey Olivia, I feel your pain. I really feel your pain! I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be too hard to make a church where people could come as they are, and have it a little more about God than things.

    Oh yeah, I feel like slapping that woman on your behalf. I used to censor those kinds of feelings, but found it unhealthy. Join the company of dreamers who are looking for a better way……

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