Hill Country Bible Church (Part 1)

I was almost late to Hill Country Bible after getting repeatedly lost along the way, and it didn’t help that there was no signage outside the church’s campus (which was recessed from the street on a slightly-wooded lot).  The only upside to this was that, in my search for the campus, I happened upon a Walgreens that had Austin postcards.  Even though these postcards featured ludicrously outdated pictures of the city’s skyline, at least I finally had something from this city to send Erin!  It has been next to impossible to find Austin postcards, and I have no idea why.  Perhaps people want to keep this place a secret to make sure their property values don’t get too out of hand.  Of course, now I’m finding the same problem in Houston, so maybe Texas just doesn’t like to advertise.  Eh, I’m getting off topic.  Found postcards.  Drove around a bit longer.  Noticed a policeman directing traffic.  Was actually happy to see a policeman for a change.  Realized he was directing people entering and exiting the church.  Drove in.  Found parking.

Waterfalls.  Why is it always waterfalls?

I walked across the tree-populated parking lot to the church building and entered.  Right off the bat, this church was not what I had expected.  People were much more casually attired than I had been led to believe, and there was a much larger Latino population than I had expected.  I walked through a set of double doors into a gym in which folding chairs had been placed, and I found myself thinking, “Wow.  The church has such a huge campus, and yet their sanctuary is still a gym?  What’s going on?  HEY, WAIT A MINUTE!  I’M IN THE WRONG SERVICE!”  Yep, I had inadvertently made my way to the Spanish-speaking service rather than the main Hill Country Sunday morning worship service that was about to start next door.  In retrospect, I really should experience some worship services in Spanish this summer, but as I don’t speak a word of the language --other than knowing an unsettling amount about where the names of food items originate--, I probably wouldn’t be able to understand much of what was happening.  Nope, I’ll just keep it English for now.  I bolted out of the building and made it to the main sanctuary.  I hurried past a waterfall on my way to the main sanctuary.  Okay, seriously, what’s the deal with the more well-off megachurches all having waterfalls?  Did someone write a book on this and I just didn’t get the memo?

The building was very nice on the inside: beige walls and plush green carpets with plenty of windows and open staircases.  People were still milling around a bit in the halls, but I had only a few minutes to make it to the sanctuary and record every detail I could about that room, so I didn’t stop for any prolonged conversations.  Rather, I made my way into the sanctuary and plopped down into one of the many cushy theater-style seats.  Ooo, we have a new winner for most comfortable seating in a church.

The sanctuary had a high ceiling and the same beige walls and green carpets as the rest of the building.  A baptistery was positioned high above the stage with a cross directly underneath it, and there were screens bearing song lyrics and announcements on either side.  When I entered, a slightly creepy youth video was playing on the screens that featured video footage of a youth crusade set to classical music.  Maybe it’s just me, but there’s something about dramatic footage of teenagers worshiping set to classical music that just unnerves me every time.  Maybe this is just SBC youth camp baggage rearing its ugly head again though.  Uh oh, flashback coming.  It’s a repressed memory: Centrifuge 2001, one of the few experiences I’ve had that I’m actually comfortable describing as “evil.”  They condemned education, labeled anything non-SBC as being a cult, encouraged the ceremonial burning of secular music, pushed for artificial tears on the last night, and, worst of all, my roommate definitely hadn’t learned about personal hygiene yet.  Yeah, there’s really nothing redeeming about Centrifuge except for the fact that Stuart Lamkin was right there suffering along with me and constantly assuring me that not all Christians were like that (a lesson for which I am still grateful since I might have given up on the Church a lot sooner if he hadn’t said that).  Sorry, getting sidetracked.  Must stay focused.  Farther beyond these video screens were two additional illuminated screens which resembled parchment and bore the following pieces of information:

Hill Country Bible Church is a family of believers committed to reaching people with the life-changing reality of Jesus Christ.

Reproducing other disciples- Matthew 28:18-20

Esteeming God above all- Mark 12:30

Announcing the Good News- Luke 24:46-47

Living for others- Mark 10:45

It appeared to be a mission statement and a list of guiding principles.  I liked the prevalence of Scripture in the guiding principles, but I only had time to scribble them hastily into my notes before the service started.  At this point, the sanctuary was mostly full with a slightly older crowd than had been at Austin Stone that morning-- mostly middle aged couples with children and even a fairly sizable senior adult population.  Most folks were white and dressed in polo and dress shirts, usually with khakis or (in the case of teenagers) cargo shorts.  The women were attired mostly in dresses or at least nice skirts and blouses.  Based on attire, the general income level seemed to be middle class or upper middle class.  I noticed a few black teenagers and young adults, but most of this group were clad in the same green t-shirts with the “The Price Is Right” logo on it, and they were sitting together, which led me to believe they were participants in a specific program at the church and perhaps not regular members-- like a visiting youth group on a mission project or something.  The band came onto the stage.  Time for worship.

Worship

Remember how I got annoyed with the worship leader at Willow Creek for smiling so much through some really sad lyrics?  Yeah, same thing here.  In fact, this worship leader could have been that other guy’s long-lost twin brother-- tall, skinny, white guy in a polo shirt with intentionally untidy hair and a perpetual grin.  Of course, the funniest part is that, when I did a google image search to track down a picture of him, he’s frowning and going for the unhappy hipster look in every publicity shot.  Don’t get me wrong; I’m sure he’s a nice guy and following passionately after God’s call.  I just get annoyed when worship leaders maintain the same facial expression regardless of lyric content-- feels less genuine to me, and it breaks me out of the rhythm of worship.  We started with the doxology set to cymbal-heavy drums with long sustained guitar chords:

Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow;

Praise Him, all creatures here below;

Praise Him above, ye Heavenly Host;

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

The lines were repeated a few times along with other verses.  The band here had multiple singers, which helped facilitate audience participation in the singing, and I noticed a few lifted hands here and there, usually clustered together in family/friend groups.  The band here was also much larger than the one at Austin Stone had been: two acoustic guitarist/singers, two electric guitars, bass, drums, two additional female singers, and keyboard/synth.  There was clapping after the doxology, and the lights went down as a heavier electric guitar led us into the next song.

Our God will reign forever
And all the world will know His name
Everyone together sing the song of the redeemed

I know that my redeemer lives
And now I stand on what He did
My Savior, my Savior lives
Every day a brand new chance to say
"Jesus, You are the only way"
My Savior, my Savior lives

The King has come from Heaven
And darkness trembles at His name
Victory forever is the song of the redeemed

My Savior lives, My Savior lives, My Savior lives
My Savior lives, My Savior lives, My Savior lives

People were still filtering into the sanctuary, and ushers were directing them to any available seats.  The vibe in the room didn’t feel quite as excited as at Austin Stone, but some of that might have had to do with the fact that this was an 11:30 service, so this might have been a crowd of later-risers.  Also, the musicians were probably a little tired by now, having done two other services already this morning.  I even heard Pastor Tim inform a church member after the service that he was running on fumes by the time his sermon rolled around; after all, giving the same sermon three times in a row is a demanding task, and Pastor Tim had as early morning for reasons I’ll get into later.  In spite of all this, the service remained slick and polished from beginning to end.  Following this particular song, we were given a chance to greet the people around us before the lights again dimmed, and we were led into the next number.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death

Your perfect love is casting our fear

And even when I’m caught in the middle of the storms of this life

I won’t turn back, I know you are near

And I will fear no evil for my God is with me

And if my God is with me, whom shall I fear?

Oh no, You never let go

Through the calm and through the storm

Oh no, You never let go

In every high and every low

Oh no, You never let go

Lord, You never let go of me

I like the sentiment of the lyrics, but I have to admit that I’ve never really cared for that song.  In fact, I might even use the word “insipid” to describe it.  Still, I noticed that the bassist in this group was particularly talented, striking a really nice groove and keeping an absolutely steady beat with appropriate flourishes as needed.  There definitely wasn’t the same guitar/drum interplay here, and I felt that the instrumentation was more of the traditional contemporary pioneered back in the 70s and 80s.  (Yes, that’s right diehard contemporary enthusiasts, your preferred music style is old.)  The worship leader talked for a bit and introduced the next song, a Chris Tomlin tune:

Water You turned into wine
Opened the eyes of the blind
There's no one like You
None like You
Into the darkness You shining
Out of the ashes we rise
There's no one like You
None like You

Our God is greater, our God is stronger
God You are higher than any other
Our God is Healer, awesome and power
Our God, Our God

And if Our God is for us, then who could ever stop us?
And if our God is with us, then what can stand against?

I’m not going to post the full lyrics to this one since the song is fairly repetitive (with that chorus and bridge repeated many times over until the end).  If you’re noticing that I have a slight disdain for a certain style/era of contemporary music, you’re absolutely right.  There’s a period of Christian contemporary from about 1980 to 2005 (i.e. almost all of it) that just really doesn’t meet my tastes, and I feel like it’s exemplified in much of the widely-used music by Chris Tomlin and Matt Redman.  The lyrics are very simple and repetitive, and I understand that the goal is to create a sort of reverent and meditative state fairly akin to the Taize music, but it just doesn’t really do it for me, you know?  It’s fun to play bass to it, but I have a hard time really worshiping along with it from out in the congregation.  I’m going to try not to be snide about this, but there’s just something missing from a lot of this stuff for me.  I know I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again: I like the intellectual and emotional depth of a good old hymn, but I also like the driven and passionate instrumentation of big box contemporary.  Traditional lyrics with modern instrumentation, intellectual depth with gritty drum beats, words in excess of three syllables with guitars in excess of three effects pedals-- that’s the best of both worlds!  I certainly have mixed feelings about their pastor, but Mars Hill of Seattle was probably my ideal music setting.  The polished, softer and lighter contemporary that I’ve heard at more baby boomer-geared churches like Willow Creek, Saddleback, and now at Hill Country just doesn’t satisfy me emotionally, intellectually, or musically.  It’s a style that I could tolerate if a church had a solid enough community there as well, but I can’t say that it’s a style I can reconcile with my preferences and beliefs about worship.  More challenging for me still is the very streamlined and professional feel of these services.  Performance in worship is a difficult enough concept, but I feel like this style actually goes a step farther and starts to cross the line into being a full-on production, and that’s not something I can enjoy.  Keep in mind though that this is a matter of opinion, and I’m not trying to identify a single correct style of worship-- just stating what moves me personally and why, and this particular service’s music just didn’t really reach me for a number of reasons.  The woman in front of me seemed really moved by the music though.  In fact, quite a few people there did.  I just wasn’t one of them.  At least people were singing and participating, so I’ll give them that.

(Uh oh.  I just got this weird feeling like at least three more of the churches I look at in the next three weeks are going to be this exact same style of worship.  I’ll try to refrain from repeating this same rant again though.  Maybe I’ll just insert a link to this post instead.)

At this point in the service, the lights dimmed a little further, and a video played on the screen advertising Pastor Tim’s next sermon series: “Walls Are Coming Down.”  The video showed footage of famous walls and fences (Berlin Wall, concentration camps, etc.) and explained that Hill Country would be partnering with other churches in the Austin area to discuss the spiritual walls that divide us and how to tear them down.  The whole video was set to Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall” . . . well, select lines from “Another Brick in the Wall.”  Somehow, “we don’t need no education” didn’t seem like it would really jive with Hill Country’s ministry, so that line was absent.  A promotion in the bulletin for this series read:

WALLS divide, separate, obstruct and confine.  The invisible walls that we construct in our minds are just as real as the physical ones we can see and touch.  These walls hinder our relationship with God and with each other.  This fall, HCBC will join churches across the Austin area to tear down walls that separate us from God’s very best.  WALLS is a journey for those who are ready to live the life God intended.  During the WALLS series, thousands of people from churches across our city will identify their individual walls, learn how to destroy walls between churches and neighbors, and celebrate breakthroughs!  A key element of the WALLS series will be weekly small group discussion of the issues that we’ll explore on Sunday mornings.  Our desire is that each person at HCBC will be part of a small group during the six weeks of the series.  To see that happen, we ask that you pray about hosting a group in your home for six weeks or get in a small group if you haven’t already-- we’ll help you find the best one for you.

Okay, breaking down walls between the church and the community is one of the things that I’m all about.  Still, another thought was kicking around in my head: Austin is only about three hours from the border with Mexico.  Spiritual boundaries are an important topic, but I wonder how national boundaries will be addressed.

The lights came back up, and Ryan Schomaker, the soul patch-sporting middle school pastor, came onto the stage to make a few announcements.  Ryan was warm and friendly and had a moderately-self-effacing sense of humor about him.  Also, he had a soul patch, and we soul patch-wearers have to stick together (and yes, I seriously contemplated putting a link to Todd Maberry’s facebook profile right here but decided against it).  Ryan reported on the success of the churches’ Backyard Bible Clubs, in which 4,800 kids had participated and 580 professions of faith were made.  He also asked that we pray for people currently on short-term mission trips and pray for the trips still to come.  He also introduced today’s guest worship leader, Aaron David, who normally plays at Fellowship of the Woodlands and had copies of his worship album available for purchase in the foyer after the service.  As Ryan called the ushers forward (which included many of the youth in the Price Is Right shirts), he led us in prayer, reminding us that all things are gifts from God, and that the greatest gift of all is Christ.  He thanked God for allowing us to participate in the work of the Kingdom and asked God to free us from distraction as we continued to worship.  He asked that God open us to truth and make us bold, and he thanked God for those already at work proclaiming the gospel.

As the plates went around the room, Aaron returned to the microphone and actually did a pretty good job of trying not to smile in the next song.  It probably helped that the close-up shots of his face had the microphone pretty well concealing his mouth, so I had a harder time telling when the corners of his lips habitually twitched upward.  Because people were seated and passing the plates, this song was more of a performance.  It was another Matt Redman tune.

Who, oh Lord, could save themselves,
Their own soul could heal?
Our shame was deeper than the sea
Your grace is deeper still.

You alone can rescue, You alone can save
You alone can lift us from the grave
You came down to find us, led us out of death
To You alone belongs the highest praise

We lift up our eyes, lift up our eyes
You’re the Giver of Life

In typical Matt Redman fashion, that last line is repeated eight times.

In typical Matt Redman fashion, that last line is repeated eight times.

In typical Matt Redman fashion, that last line is repeated eight times.

In typical Matt Redman fashion, that last line is repeated eight times.

In typical Matt Redman fashion, that last line is repeated eight times.

In typical Matt Redman fashion, that last line is repeated eight times.

In typical Matt Redman fashion, that last line is repeated eight times.

In typical Matt Redman fashion, that last line is repeated eight times.

The Hillsong movement-- inspiring bland, unoriginal, repetitive music since 1983.