Imagine you are a corps officer and a new family is attending Sunday morning worship. You're glad they are worshipping at your corps, but they always cause a disturbance. The children run wild during the congregational singing. The parents' cellphones ring constantly during your sermons. Some of the long-time members of the congregation have complained, but the family doesn't seem to notice or care. Do you stage an intervention with this family or endure the complaints and be grateful that your corps is experiencing growth?
This is the third in a series of Point Counterpoint debates in which a variety of Salvationists will explore two sides of an issue that is critical to Army mission.
BY MAJOR KAREN HOEFT
I have been invited to comment on a hypothetical situation that I have dubbed “The Sunday Morning Worship Blues.” We have a new family who doesn't understand the unwritten, unspoken rules that govern the congregation so that everyone can have a pleasant worship experience. These rules seem simple enough: children should not run in the aisles and cellphones should remain off. At least those are the rules we will tell you for now. When you break another one, don't worry … we'll let you know.
Sunday morning, all across our territory, Christians gather to celebrate the good news of Jesus. We gather as communities of believers with many styles, forms and distinctions. Historically, The Salvation Army's distinct characteristics were not just our uniforms and brass bands but our ability to “sacralize the secular” (Diane Winston, Red-Hot and Righteous). Much to the dismay of other denominations, the Army was able to provide an atmosphere that was both welcoming and familiar to those who didn't fit in to more traditional worship services. We took what was common in the world and used it to promote the gospel message. Usually this came with lots of noise, movement, music and theatrics, both from the leaders and from the congregation.
The sounds of Salvation Army worship were a cacophony of music, shouts of joy, dynamic preaching, loud hallelujahs, shocking testimonials, halls filled with laughter and mercy seats lined with weeping sinners. Silence was rarely, if ever, found in a Salvation Army meeting. This was not an accident, but intentional. The mission was to bring the gospel message to the people in a way they could understand it. If they never came in the doors then they might never hear the message and be transformed by it. Early Salvationists believed that it was the gospel message, not the meeting, that would transform people.
Has The Salvation Army changed since then? Have we adopted the unwritten rules that we once avoided? Have we scripted the sounds, so that only “acceptable” ones are allowed? Who decides what sounds enhance worship and which detract from worship? Is a child's laughter and tendency to be rambunctious good or bad? Cellphones, texting, reading e-mails on a Blackberry—or the use of any electronic device for that matter—what gets the thumbs up or thumbs down?
The Sunday Morning Worship Blues has been sung before and we'll sing it again. Who writes the rules, who changes the rules, and why? Many say those who have been there the longest, since it is “their” congregation. Others say the leader or tradition or whoever has the most power.
As a corps officer I have heard the Sunday Morning Worship Blues many times: at corps council meetings, at visioning meetings, at one-on-one chats. My own journey has been one of intentionally leading to create an environment where anyone could feel welcome, familiar and comfortable. This is done first by example. I have to be OK with sounds and movement and maybe people not giving me their full attention. (Maybe that text message or phone call really was more important than what I had to say!) I'd rather invite attention than command it. Children are easily engaged, but are tough critics. They get easily distracted because they're kids. They love music, they love to move and they love noise. A congregation full of children teaches us all about sound and life and joy. I think Jesus understood this.
We need the children; they are our lifeblood. Babies, crying and all, are a gift of new life. Toddlers, learning to walk and run, show growth. Youth asking questions, challenging the status quo, keep us thinking. Strangers coming in teach us about hospitality and help us not to get too set in our ways. Lives being transformed breathe the spirit of life back into our communities of faith.
I believe we need to work together to create environments where a mother doesn't have to cringe every two minutes from the “looks” hurled her way when her baby cries out, where kids can be free to make a little noise and move around, where a family who comes in to hear how the gospel message is relevant to their lives will stay long enough to not just hear the message but be transformed by it.
What would I do in this situation? I would invite everyone to participate in the community of faith—from the youngest to the oldest, from the seekers to the stalwarts of the faith. We all need each other! We can truly see transformation of the heart—all hearts—and not just outward conformation to a set of unwritten rules about worship.
Major Karen Hoeft is assistant executive director and community relations at Winnipeg Booth Centre.
BY CAPTAIN ROB KERR
Life in community always brings with it a tension between the needs of the individual and what is best for the group. The challenge is finding the right balance between the two. In society this balance is regulated with laws, but in the life of a Christian congregation, the balance is governed by love. This is where it gets tricky, because when we deal with each other in love we don't want to hurt or offend anyone. It gets even more complicated when we are dealing with a new individual or family. We want them to feel loved, we want to encourage them and help them grow spiritually. The issue at hand is: Do the needs of the individual (in this case a family) supersede the needs of the group as a whole?
Obviously, if this type of disruption happens once, or even once in a while, we should be able to accept the disruption and encourage and support this new family. But when the disruption becomes chronic it is the responsibility of the corps officer to consider the needs of the group as well as the individual. Taking action to curtail such disruptions does not necessarily mean direct confrontation with the family. In fact, I would suggest that be the last resort. There needs to be opportunity for the family to adjust their own behaviour first.
The first step a corps officer needs to take is to look at the situation, determine what kind of support this family needs and then ask: How can we support this family, address the disruptions and allow them to maintain their dignity? In the case of noisy children, are we providing nursery resources? Do parents know about them? Do they know they are available for their children, too, and not just for the “members”? Perhaps the person who is in charge of the nursery could introduce herself, explain what happens in the nursery or children's program and encourage them to attend.
Cellphones can also be addressed in a proactive way. It is easy for anyone to forget to turn off their cellphone on any given Sunday. Rather than get annoyed that they forgot, make every effort to help them remember. Put a reminder in the bulletin or on the announcement slides before the service. Since some people don't arrive in time to see the announcements or read the bulletin (if they are rushing in at the last minute they are likely flustered and more likely to forget to turn off their phone), remind them again before the message. Helping the family to learn what is disruptive to the group allows them to make their own adjustments.
If these types of efforts don't work, then what? Do we let the family disrupt the service in the name of love and compassion? If so, what message does that convey?
Some would argue it demonstrates unconditional love and selfless giving by the congregation—and it does—but if the corps officer allows it to become the norm, the officer is also conveying the message that the service is not really that important. Movie theatres don't tolerate cellphones or crying babies during the show. Is the Word of God less important than a movie? If we believe that the message preached is the Word of God and the preacher is the ordained messenger of God, then we must give it our full attention and we need to make sure everyone understands that.
I believe that Satan would like nothing better than for our worship services to be disorganized and full of disruptions because then nobody would hear the Word of God and certainly wouldn't take it seriously. We must take worship and preaching seriously. If the officer knows and believes that, I don't see how he or she could possibly allow a continual disruption of the service.
Should the officer risk losing this family by dealing directly with the disruptive behaviour? If every other means of addressing the situation has been exhausted, then yes. A corps officer's responsibility is to ensure that the Word of God is preached in such a way as to be received and understood. This takes more than just diligent sermon preparation. It requires worship that points people to our Lord and requires an environment that is without distraction or disruption (to the best of our ability). We have this responsibility to the entire congregation. To do anything less would be negligent to the Word of God, our calling and our people.
Captain Rob Kerr is the corps officer at Scarborough Citadel in Toronto.
This is the third in a series of Point Counterpoint debates in which a variety of Salvationists will explore two sides of an issue that is critical to Army mission.
No, don't intervene. Let's welcome everyone, even if it makes us uncomfortable. Salvation Army worship has always been a bit chaotic.
BY MAJOR KAREN HOEFT
I have been invited to comment on a hypothetical situation that I have dubbed “The Sunday Morning Worship Blues.” We have a new family who doesn't understand the unwritten, unspoken rules that govern the congregation so that everyone can have a pleasant worship experience. These rules seem simple enough: children should not run in the aisles and cellphones should remain off. At least those are the rules we will tell you for now. When you break another one, don't worry … we'll let you know.
Sunday morning, all across our territory, Christians gather to celebrate the good news of Jesus. We gather as communities of believers with many styles, forms and distinctions. Historically, The Salvation Army's distinct characteristics were not just our uniforms and brass bands but our ability to “sacralize the secular” (Diane Winston, Red-Hot and Righteous). Much to the dismay of other denominations, the Army was able to provide an atmosphere that was both welcoming and familiar to those who didn't fit in to more traditional worship services. We took what was common in the world and used it to promote the gospel message. Usually this came with lots of noise, movement, music and theatrics, both from the leaders and from the congregation.
The sounds of Salvation Army worship were a cacophony of music, shouts of joy, dynamic preaching, loud hallelujahs, shocking testimonials, halls filled with laughter and mercy seats lined with weeping sinners. Silence was rarely, if ever, found in a Salvation Army meeting. This was not an accident, but intentional. The mission was to bring the gospel message to the people in a way they could understand it. If they never came in the doors then they might never hear the message and be transformed by it. Early Salvationists believed that it was the gospel message, not the meeting, that would transform people.
Has The Salvation Army changed since then? Have we adopted the unwritten rules that we once avoided? Have we scripted the sounds, so that only “acceptable” ones are allowed? Who decides what sounds enhance worship and which detract from worship? Is a child's laughter and tendency to be rambunctious good or bad? Cellphones, texting, reading e-mails on a Blackberry—or the use of any electronic device for that matter—what gets the thumbs up or thumbs down?
The Sunday Morning Worship Blues has been sung before and we'll sing it again. Who writes the rules, who changes the rules, and why? Many say those who have been there the longest, since it is “their” congregation. Others say the leader or tradition or whoever has the most power.
As a corps officer I have heard the Sunday Morning Worship Blues many times: at corps council meetings, at visioning meetings, at one-on-one chats. My own journey has been one of intentionally leading to create an environment where anyone could feel welcome, familiar and comfortable. This is done first by example. I have to be OK with sounds and movement and maybe people not giving me their full attention. (Maybe that text message or phone call really was more important than what I had to say!) I'd rather invite attention than command it. Children are easily engaged, but are tough critics. They get easily distracted because they're kids. They love music, they love to move and they love noise. A congregation full of children teaches us all about sound and life and joy. I think Jesus understood this.
We need the children; they are our lifeblood. Babies, crying and all, are a gift of new life. Toddlers, learning to walk and run, show growth. Youth asking questions, challenging the status quo, keep us thinking. Strangers coming in teach us about hospitality and help us not to get too set in our ways. Lives being transformed breathe the spirit of life back into our communities of faith.
I believe we need to work together to create environments where a mother doesn't have to cringe every two minutes from the “looks” hurled her way when her baby cries out, where kids can be free to make a little noise and move around, where a family who comes in to hear how the gospel message is relevant to their lives will stay long enough to not just hear the message but be transformed by it.
What would I do in this situation? I would invite everyone to participate in the community of faith—from the youngest to the oldest, from the seekers to the stalwarts of the faith. We all need each other! We can truly see transformation of the heart—all hearts—and not just outward conformation to a set of unwritten rules about worship.
Major Karen Hoeft is assistant executive director and community relations at Winnipeg Booth Centre.
Yes, but there are more subtle ways to let them know. Ultimately, respect for the Word of God and the whole congregation must take precedence.
BY CAPTAIN ROB KERR
Life in community always brings with it a tension between the needs of the individual and what is best for the group. The challenge is finding the right balance between the two. In society this balance is regulated with laws, but in the life of a Christian congregation, the balance is governed by love. This is where it gets tricky, because when we deal with each other in love we don't want to hurt or offend anyone. It gets even more complicated when we are dealing with a new individual or family. We want them to feel loved, we want to encourage them and help them grow spiritually. The issue at hand is: Do the needs of the individual (in this case a family) supersede the needs of the group as a whole?
Obviously, if this type of disruption happens once, or even once in a while, we should be able to accept the disruption and encourage and support this new family. But when the disruption becomes chronic it is the responsibility of the corps officer to consider the needs of the group as well as the individual. Taking action to curtail such disruptions does not necessarily mean direct confrontation with the family. In fact, I would suggest that be the last resort. There needs to be opportunity for the family to adjust their own behaviour first.
The first step a corps officer needs to take is to look at the situation, determine what kind of support this family needs and then ask: How can we support this family, address the disruptions and allow them to maintain their dignity? In the case of noisy children, are we providing nursery resources? Do parents know about them? Do they know they are available for their children, too, and not just for the “members”? Perhaps the person who is in charge of the nursery could introduce herself, explain what happens in the nursery or children's program and encourage them to attend.
Cellphones can also be addressed in a proactive way. It is easy for anyone to forget to turn off their cellphone on any given Sunday. Rather than get annoyed that they forgot, make every effort to help them remember. Put a reminder in the bulletin or on the announcement slides before the service. Since some people don't arrive in time to see the announcements or read the bulletin (if they are rushing in at the last minute they are likely flustered and more likely to forget to turn off their phone), remind them again before the message. Helping the family to learn what is disruptive to the group allows them to make their own adjustments.
If these types of efforts don't work, then what? Do we let the family disrupt the service in the name of love and compassion? If so, what message does that convey?
Some would argue it demonstrates unconditional love and selfless giving by the congregation—and it does—but if the corps officer allows it to become the norm, the officer is also conveying the message that the service is not really that important. Movie theatres don't tolerate cellphones or crying babies during the show. Is the Word of God less important than a movie? If we believe that the message preached is the Word of God and the preacher is the ordained messenger of God, then we must give it our full attention and we need to make sure everyone understands that.
I believe that Satan would like nothing better than for our worship services to be disorganized and full of disruptions because then nobody would hear the Word of God and certainly wouldn't take it seriously. We must take worship and preaching seriously. If the officer knows and believes that, I don't see how he or she could possibly allow a continual disruption of the service.
Should the officer risk losing this family by dealing directly with the disruptive behaviour? If every other means of addressing the situation has been exhausted, then yes. A corps officer's responsibility is to ensure that the Word of God is preached in such a way as to be received and understood. This takes more than just diligent sermon preparation. It requires worship that points people to our Lord and requires an environment that is without distraction or disruption (to the best of our ability). We have this responsibility to the entire congregation. To do anything less would be negligent to the Word of God, our calling and our people.
Captain Rob Kerr is the corps officer at Scarborough Citadel in Toronto.
When it comes to the cell phone issue who cares beside some traditionalist.
I want that again where we are familly and not just church robots