This summer while on vacation my family and I worshiped with a small congregation of about 50 people at Port Isabel, Texas. We sang old songs out of song books, there were no video screens or projected presentations, the auditorium was small and showing signs of old age. In many ways I was tempted to worship with a critical eye assured that this congregation was never going to be highlighted by church growth magazines. It was not even close to cutting-edge and my fleshly side saw my attendance as more of an obligation rather than an opportunity to worship and learn and to grow.
Thankfully the Spirit got hold of me sometime in between the parking lot and the opening song (even though I must admit the Spirit himself must have been tempted to scram during the announcements), and even in the less-than-dynamic time of song, communion, and sermon I found myself being blessed; being edified; being fed.
It got me to think. Maybe we make too much out of style. Maybe we get distracted evaluating the "how" of worship and miss on out the "who" of worship. Maybe worship can be cutting edge yet empty and meaningless and void. It doesn’t have to be, but it could.
I'm reminded that worship really doesn’t find its power in songbooks or video projection. Cutting edge doesn’t transform and new buildings don’t revive. It really boils down to the Spirit and my heart. I know the Spirit shows up every Sunday. I guess the real question is has your heart come along with you?