Idols- Season Me.
I was a church worship leader in
high school. With a team of more vocally and musically talented folks than myself,
I led the Praise and Worship team for
about two years. I am not a professional singer. You may wonder how exactly I
was leading the worship team. Well, let’s just say I can tell an off-key tune,
I’m not tone-deaf and I have not caused windows to crack while singing in the
shower. I have some knowledge on chords
and music beats and because of that I can play a few songs on the guitar. I
once wrote two songs, whose lyrics and chords I still have. However, music is
not my forté. Too add to that, I am not particularly passionate about it. But it was not always
like that. In high school I was very passionate about it then. However, I
didn’t know that my passion for melodies and harmonies was selfish and an idol
in my life. It wasn't until someone pointed it out to me, and his name wasn’t Simon
Cowell.
I was in a boys’ only boarding
school. Weekends were revered. They were the only times that had a semblance of
home life. On one particular weekend, it started out as a perfect Sunday. Students trickled into the
church hall that easily converted into a dining hall and parade ground upon
need. The church pews were cleaner today. No pools of water were left by the
students on duty. The weather seemed to add to the fact that this was
going to be a great day. I had lined up a perfect list of praise songs. The
stage was neat. The mics and speakers were set. The keyboard and drum set were
in tune and my worship team was set to go. All fell in place that Sunday except
one thing: the MC. Oh gosh! The moderator of the service was doing a lousy job,
if you asked me at that time. Granted, the microphone levels were low, but
could he not see that he was inaudible? The sound engineers increased the
volume for his sake but the boy was hopeless; he wouldn’t be audible if his life
depended on it.
The congregation of 800 men grew
restless and began chatting. I was the weatherman and the congregation was the
forecast; I knew a potentially bad Church service when I saw one. I was growing
irate by the minute and the choleric in me wanted to march up that stage and
show this novice how to MC in a simple gathering. I have come a long way as a
follower of Christ. I look back at my reaction when I was in high school and it
confirms that not only have I grown, but also that God was moulding
my character (as he still is). One of my close friends, Michael, noticed my
evident anxiety and told me to calm down, assuring that all would be well. It was in
response to this that my idolatry was revealed. I opened my mouth and I couldn’t
believe what I said.
“He’s going to ruin my worship!”
Before I even recollected what I
had just said, my friend’s calm and gentle response drove the Holy Spirit
straight into my heart with the sword of conviction.
“It’s God’s worship; not yours.”
I parted my lips to speak but
only air came out. The words from Michael penetrated my defences and exploded in
my heart with deep contrition. What had I just said? However, another voice parried
the conviction. I reasoned to myself. Don’t the scriptures in Romans 12 ask us
to use our gifts in excellence? Is not preaching, teaching, singing and being
an MC meant to be performance art despite being worship to our Creator? It was
the voice of my knocked-down idol trying to regain its pre-eminence in my
heart. It had just been dethroned by the truth and it was trying desperately to
get back in place by even using the scriptures. Beloved, don’t get me wrong; I
don’t believe the whole hullabaloo of listen-to-the-lyrics-and-not-my-voice. I
believe that ministry, especially stage ministries should be done excellently-
all Christian songs, theatrical pieces, spoken word presentations, poems, preaching,
teaching etc should be done excellently. People shouldn’t prepare mediocre
sacrifices in the name of God-looks-at-the-heart. It’s a cop out from the
excellence God calls us to. Be that as it may, I was only using that angle
back then to cover up my idolatry. In truth, the leading got into my head. The
praise from the guys after service became all about me and all about how I
performed and sang well. I had taken the seat of God in my heart and loved the
praise of men more than the praise of God. And when Michael spoke out, I
reacted like Demetrius of Acts 20 who went up in arms when Paul the Apostle put
his idols out of business. I may not have caused a riot like Demetrius, but in
my heart, I had led a revolt against this MC who was ruining “my worship
service”.
I learnt a fundamental lesson
some time back about idols. And it is this: when idols are challenged in one’s
life, you often go up in arms. Idols, especially among Christians, are often not bad things; they are good things that have been treasured more than God
Almighty. Idols could range from your spouse, your boyfriend, your job/career,
your moral record, your gifts and abilities, your parents, your friends, your
reputation- good things that are elevated to be more important than God. And if
you want to know what they are, like Demetrius in Acts 20, just threaten to
take them away. Our reactions prove our hearts are in bed with an idol. Men and
women in public ministries especially ought to watch out for this.
I was angry at what Michael had
said to me, especially since he had said it with so much gentleness. If he had said
it with spite, I would have had reason to discard it as untrue. When the MC was
done, he called the worship team on stage. I regained my composure and put on a
smiling face. The crowd shouldn’t see a frown, I figured. The microphones were
switched on and I picked up the one in the centre. I discarded the conflict
that Michael had presented in my thoughts and decided to do what needed to be
done first. I ushered the congregation into worship and we began singing. My
voice may have been present but God’s Spirit was absent. Then I realized that my
microphone wasn’t audible. I mentioned to the sound engineers to increase the
volume. They did. Then it happened. I felt a warm terrible surge course through
my body. The microphone grew hot and I threw it to the ground. But it was a bit
too late; the electric current from the metallic mic threw me to the ground. The
instrumentalists stopped playing. The service stopped. Two of the worship team members came
to my aid. One touched me and the electric current zapped them momentarily. My
body was still conducting the electricity. I didn’t black out but the view was
hazy. Someone kicked the faulty microphone away from reach and I was lifted off
stage by a team of swift men. I was in shock for the rest of the day (no pun
intended).
One of the teachers in school saw
me later that afternoon and asked if I was okay. They said I looked stunned-
like I had seen a ghost. The truth was that I was humbled that day, twice. You
see, moments after the incident, I did a lot of reflecting. I realized that I
had replayed the role that Lucifer had taken before the beginning of time. He had
amassed glory to himself when it belonged to God. I was no different. The focus
was on me, me, me. Realizing my sinfulness, I remarked that it was a wonder God
hadn’t struck me dead all these Sundays. Then it hit me that he had struck me.
You see the electric zap on stage was a wake-up call. I’m not saying God faulted
the wires to teach me a lesson. No. But I’m saying that he used the incident to
teach me a lesson on humility. He taught me that he is God and that I should
take glory in Him alone and not in my abilities, my efforts, my gifts and the errors
of others (whom I thought I was better than). That MC wasn’t lousy after all.
He was handling a faulty mic. I thank God that the electric zap was spared for
me and not him. I deserved it, in a sense. But I saw something beautiful out of
it. That even when we spurn correction from the Michaels that God puts around us,
God is loving enough to follow through to stop us from going down a terrible
path
Some may say that to consider the
electric shock as a wake-up call would be ill or would paint God is bad light.
However, imagine a mother frying some samosas in hot oil. Suddenly that mother's
child runs into the room and is heading for the boiling oil. What does the
mother do? Her child is about to dive headlong into the arms of death or
excruciating pain. The mother instantly commands the child "STOP!"
The imperative from the mother is a command of love. Christ is like that mother
and we are like that impulsive child. We are running into hot
oil everyday and ultimately into hot oil eternally. God's command in the Bible
to STOP is one of love. The impulsive child that sees the command as a
restraint to their freedom will eventually pay the full price of disobedience.
If God's commands are seen as obstacles to our liberties, even the barricading
arms of the mother won't stop us from the danger ahead. On account of our
rebellious and sinful lives, we will push the mother aside and keep running
towards the hot oil. Today when you hear God speaking, don't push Him away for
it will cost you nothing to stop. If anything, it will be your salvation. I
urge you today beloved, drop your idols and obey the Lord your God.