A few months ago as Ann and I sat around the dining table enjoying our Sunday tradition of pancakes and eggs, I took a deep breath and uttered a sentence I had been hesitant to say out loud. I looked across the table and said to her, “I think attending our church is doing more harm to my spiritual life than good.” I said that because on the majority of Sundays, I found myself engaged in multiple inner arguments with the way the service was structured, the way the songs were produced, some of the ideas in the song lyrics, and the decisions made by the preacher in how he or she handled the Biblical text he was using. 

Whether it was the COVID shutdown, my own spiritual evolution, or a combination of both, I’ve found the evangelical worship service format increasingly frustrating and irritating to something deep within me. Because I love the leaders at our church, I want to emphasize this represents a change within me, not something wrong with the work they are doing. The worship service format is the same one that I’ve loved, produced, and participated in for decades. But something has been changing, and it’s inside of me. What used to bear good fruit in me is not having the same effect.