Which is truly bliss?

The erratic thumping was like fingernails on a chalkboard. As I stole glances to my left and right, I found that my frustrations were not shared. Hands were raised, eyes closed, mouths were moving with smiles at the corners. Unhindered by the lack of rhythm, the congregation was engaged. Their spirits seemed to rise above the drummer's shortcomings and join in harmony with the moving of the Spirit.

As a drummer, I occasionally survey the church body. When our worship team is leading, I find myself drawn to seek affirmation on the faces of other drummers. (Who? Me? Self-conscious?) Quite frequently, I notice that other musicians have more difficulty "entering in" during the music time of worship. I have a theory...

Eating chicken off-the-bone was ruined for me after a couple years of university. As a requirement for one of my kinesiology classes, I had to dissect a cat. I don't like cats and it didn't bother me to see them lifeless on the table, but when we opened them up (sorry if you're reading this while eating) the muscle structure appeared far too similar to that of chicken meat. Now, when I bite into a piece of chicken, all I'm seeing are the striations in the muscles, the connective tissue and the blood vessels. Needless to say, I enjoyed chicken an awful lot more before I learned about what I was eating.

This is much like my affectedness in music worship. I am very easily distracted. The slightest missed beat or flamboyance takes me right off-center and my communion with God is blocked. (Let me pause to say that this shouldn't be an excuse, it is a shortcoming of mine.) However - like my chicken problem - I think that my understanding of drumming makes me more likely to scrutinize rather than fully join in.

This got me to thinking about the old adage of ignorance being bliss. I envy the non-musicians who can get lost in our half-hour of praise and worship even when a dolt like me is banging and crashing to his own beat. I am jealous of those who can tuck into a juicy leg of turkey without thinking about how blood once flowed through that meat to give the bird movement.

My thoughts are trying to make another connection. Jesus encourages us to have a child-like faith. In fact, it's even more than an encouragement, it's a requirement, "I assure you: Whoever does not welcome the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." The virtues of innocence are repeated, "Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child--this one is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

Consistent with Jesus' opposition to humanity's norm, the innocence, (ignorance?), of a child is elevated to a position of high esteem in God's kingdom. So what is the value of intelligence? Surely we're not called to be the mental-equivalent of the sheep our Shepherd seeks to tend. Does God want kingdom-dummies?

I do believe that earthly knowledge can become a barrier between man and God. The antonym to child-like faith could be the jaded cynic; one who is scarred by experience. The accumulation of knowledge can become a journey to independence. While this may sound like a worthy slogan for academia, the dependence on God can become the casualty. A rise in human wisdom can come at the cost of abandoning Godly wisdom.

Having said all of this, I don't believe that we are called to be dumb. We are warned to be, "...wise as serpents and innocent as doves." My theology of snakes is weak, but the picture I get is that we're supposed to be well-armed with an understanding of the world's ways. However, we're supposed to find a way to rise above it and maintain our innocence.

Herein lies the challenge... How do we train our minds to be intelligent, while maintaining the innocence necessary to take our God at full value? I believe that the ultimate intelligence is the understanding that there is a God whose intellect will never be understood, let alone equalled. The concession of God's greatness isn't a sign of academic frailty, rather it is the ultimate lesson learned. In that point, the road to understanding isn't limited to the Rhodes Scholar, but neither is it negated by human learning.

Once again, the road to God is Jesus; accessible to the brilliant and the bone-headed.

Back to the original problem... How do I get past my human nature to be critical of that which I have some understanding? Well, the answer is in the understanding the question. I need to give myself to my supernatural God, forsaking my natural inclinations. My understanding of drumming has become a barrier to consistent participation in music worship, but that barrier is not insurmountable. My human strengths are my heavenly weaknesses, but I am confident that God can change me when I ask for help.