Ecclesia (Part 2)

Worship

The band returned to the stage and led an acoustic guitar-driven reset classic hymn:

Matt and Cameron Hammon

Come, thou Fount of every blessing,

tune my heart to sing thy grace;

streams of mercy, never ceasing,

call for songs of loudest praise.

Teach me some melodious sonnet,

sung by flaming tongues above.

Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,

mount of thy redeeming love.

Here I raise mine Ebenezer;

hither by thy help I'm come;

and I hope, by thy good pleasure,

safely to arrive at home.

Jesus sought me when a stranger,

wandering from the fold of God;

he, to rescue me from danger,

interposed his precious blood.

O to grace how great a debtor

daily I'm constrained to be!

Let thy goodness, like a fetter,

bind my wandering heart to thee.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,

prone to leave the God I love;

here's my heart, O take and seal it,

seal it for thy courts above.

Their instrumentation was fairly simple: drums, keyboard, guitar (both an acoustic and an electric), bass, and vocals.  Matt’s wife Cameron had the predominant voice in the arrangement with Matt and other band members singing harmonies.  With the heavy use of acoustic guitar and the emphasis on vocal harmony, it was Erin’s kind of music, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.  I noticed that the drums were being used in the more traditional midrange percussive fashion rather than the dancey big box style, and I actually found that to be kind of a welcome change of pace this evening.  After all, you don’t need that heavy, earthy tone in every worship setting.  The next number was another reset hymn; in fact, it was a David Crowder arrangement, and it was very upbeat and fast-paced, and while Cameron’s light and melodic voice was the main tone heard in the room, the congregation were also singing along underneath.

O for a thousand tongues to sing
My great Redeemer’s praise
The glories of my God and King
The triumphs of His grace

My gracious Master and my God
Assist me to proclaim
To spread through all the earth abroad
The honors of Thy name

So come on and sing out
Let our anthem grow loud
There is one great love, Jesus

Jesus, the name that charms our fears
That bids our sorrows cease
Tis music in the sinner’s ears
Tis life and health and peace

He breaks the power of canceled sin
He sets the prisoner free
His blood can make the foulest clean
His blood availed for me

He speaks, and listening to His voice
New life the dead receive
The mournful broken hearts rejoice
The humble poor believe

Glory to God and praise and love
Be ever, ever giv’n
By saints below and saints above
The church in earth and Heav’n

There are so few words
That never grow old
There are so few words
That never grow old, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus

We moved into prayer: “We’re broken people from broken places, but we come tonight offering our brokenness in exchange for a different yoke.”  I really liked that language of both brokenness and exchange, and I was curious to see how the sermon would play off of this.  Following the prayer, a few announcements were made.  The Homecoming Dance would be coming up soon there in the gallery to raise money for . . . actually, I’m not sure whether he said “an elder” (meaning an additional staff member) or “1100 Elder” (the location of a building that the church is renovating).  Either way, the announcement of the dance was greeted with a few shouts of “Woo!”  Volunteers were needed for the teen program, and the Women of Ecclesia were hosting another book group.  Also, there were new small groups getting started, so get in on that ASAP since all it takes to start a new small group is you and one friend.  Also, there was an announcement about Face-to-Face, a Wednesday afternoon program that gives Ecclesia members a chance to break bread with the homeless folks in their community and establish relationships.  (Again, I loved that relational focus.)  Following these announcements, the band went into a very celebratory song that had some of the folks in the crowd practically jumping, spurred on by Cameron’s beautiful voice:

Jesus is King
Seated in glory and majesty
Yes He is Lord
He ascended on high
And He is the Lamb that was slain
Hallelujah! He is risen again!

He has given His blood
As a ransom for us
Who He chose in His love
And predestined to be
Heirs of His grace
And to bear His name
And to testify
That he will come again!

And He reigns, high above the earth
Yes He reigns, high above the earth
Yes He reigns, high over all

He has given His blood...

Jesus is King...

(So) come on and shout
Lift up His name
He is our God
High and exalted

I looked around and realized that the room was very much full at this point, and it was mostly “my kind”-- white, 20-somethings who at least looked fairly artsy, but I couldn’t rule out that they might be posers like me.  The music and the room itself both had a very mellow feel, and as the next slower song washed over us, I got the sensation that I was in a big box church that had taken some chill pills.  It was a Sandra McCracken song, so the timbre of Cameron’s voice felt all the more fitting:

I confess the things I am afraid of: thorns and danger just around the bend
I pray for tongues of fire and bands of angels to come and circle 'round me like a fence
I lift my eyes to the hills, where comes my help?
I lift my hands--empty hands--I can't help myself
I can't help myself; no, I can't help myself

My enemies surround me like an army--within, without, the battle's raging on
I pray the Spirit will be strong and mighty for courage through the night until the dawn
I lift my eyes to the hills, where comes my help?
I lift my hands--empty hands--I can't help myself
I can't help myself; no, I can't help myself

Oh trust the Lord--my soul and all that is in me--oh trust the light to show your darkest parts
With wounds of truth and love, a friend who has known me; a fool would keep his secrets in his heart
I lift my eyes to the hills; here comes my help
I lift my hands--empty hands--I can't help myself
I can't help myself, can't help myself
Can't help myself; no, I can't help myself; I can't help myself

The lyrics had some definite Pentecost overtones, and I love the image of lifting empty hands.  The slides for the lyrics had a background that also caught my eye: a vine-encircled window in which the center stanchions formed a cross.  (In retrospect, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that an arts community would have aesthetically pleasing slide backgrounds.)  After this song, we prayed an offertory prayer together, and as the baskets were passed, we sang.

'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just to take him at his word;
Just to rest upon his promise;
Just to know, thus saith the Lord.

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust him!
How I've proved him o'er and o'er!
Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!
O for grace to trust him more.

O how sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just to trust his cleansing blood;
Just in simple faith to plunge me
'Neath the healing, cleansing flood!

Yes, 'tis sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just from sin and self to cease;
Just from Jesus simply taking
Life and rest, and joy and peace.

I'm so glad I learned to trust thee,
Precious Jesus, Saviour, Friend;
And I know that thou art with me,
Wilt be with me to the end.

I noticed during this song that Ecclesia didn’t have any of the over-the-top lighting I had seen in so many of the big boxes.  While lighting is often the token flourish in otherwise-unadorned churches like New Life and both Mars Hills and Mosaic, it was totally absent here.  Perhaps the candles and the art on the walls made up for its absence, but somehow the space felt more sacred than many of the other sanctuaries, auditoriums, gymnasiums, and “worship centers” I’ve visited so far this summer.  It was still a big box.  It was still an art gallery.  Still, that room was very much a sanctuary.

Following the offertory, Scott Erickson (the church’s artist in residence) came to the front and delivered a prayer that focused on getting rid of the walls that we use to block out Christ.  After the prayer, Scott launched into his sermon, and though he was totally unaware of this as the time, over the next thirty minutes or so, Scott Erickson would be taking part in a minor miracle.