tollie.org/blog thoughts and reflections of Tollie Williams

Stoic Hypocrisy?

As I sit in church, reflecting, I don't know, but I wonder if I'm being hypocritical. No, it's not what you think.

Sure, to some degree, all Christians are hypocritical if for no reason other than the simple fact that we realize and freely confess that we are sinners, yet we strive to live without sin. It really begins to sound insane when you consider that not only do we admit this apparent short-fall, but also confess we have achieved none of this goal on our own merits, but instead it's entirely accomplished by the common grace of our god. Ah, such is depravity.

Anyways, that's not exactly the hypocrisy I intended to talk about. This post is about a "less moral" hypocrisy. Sure, there are some moral issues involved here, but in my mind, the issue is more about personality and expression. I suppose, I'm confessing that I contemplate the question of rather or not I have multiple, modal personalities or if I simply respect others and order.

Alas, let me attempt to put this is plain English.

You see, when I attend church and worship through music, I appear quite Baptist stoic. However, when I worship in private, or when I am allowed to lead worship through arts, I appear quite Pentecostal free. Is this hypocrisy? I wonder this.

I don't sing in church - not aloud at least. When my friends realize this, they rarely understand my reasoning. It's dual-fold:

Firstly, I'm not gifted with the ability to sing in harmony, and likewise, I'm very self-conscious of my singing short-comings. This worry is so worrisome, that it focuses my thoughts on the act of singing, and away from the song being sung, and away from the Audience for whom the song is sang.

Secondly, I fear that my singing abilities are so absent that their presence in public would be like that kid that shows up for school coughing and sneezingly sick, while everyone around him wishes he'd just go home and not come back 'til he is better. I'd rather not be that kid.

This logic extends to my other restraints as well. You see, we are constantly directed that God is a god of order, and that church itself should be orderly.

Let me elaborate: My sincerest private worship, since you've never seen it, matches closely to the worship through the arts that I believe so much in. I am so thankful that one of the good things God has given us is the arts. For me, and for many others, performing on stage is permission to be disorderly. Not disorderly in the sense that it allows you to forget your purpose, or doom to catastrophe any attempt to revive order later. Not that. But performing on stage does give you the freedom to break out of the status-quo expectations of those not on stage.

For example, take the simple human video or drama set to music. For this, it's perfectly natural to expect to see a performer on stage dancing, or performing with gestures, and moving about with passion. For straight drama, the range of expectations extend to become even broader. While it might surprise some, performing straight drama makes 'ok' things such as comedy, and even absurdity.

You see, when on stage, a performer feels the freedom to do things that would be looked on with disapproval if done from the pew. They can do this because they are not required to differentiate between order and status-quo stoicism. With the permissions of the performance, and the power of defining what is "order" for the moment, leading worship through the arts is one of the most freeing acts I can imagine. Even when the art is scripted as it is in much drama, this is still a liberating act, as playing the role of another allows one to do things that they would otherwise be embarrassed to do.

And thus, I've reached my point (finally):

On stage, with the blessing of order, the privilege of performing, and liberty of a script and the arts; or in the security of privacy I find myself an outgoing, worry-free-almost, 'BaptaCostal' that dances (although, don't ask the dance, as I assure you it is not done on any dance floor), sings, signs, moves, performs, and emotes the emotions.

On the other hand, in the pews, I find myself stoic even by "Baptist" standards: hands-down in pockets, mouth clothed, feet firmly planted. If I feel particularly moved, I might close my eyes and look down in reflection, or look up in adoration.

Is this moral hypocrisy? Is it split personalities? Or am I on target when I talk of order and the privilege of performance? If you were reading this far and hoping for some sort of conclusion, you have my apologies, because as I said at the top - I don't know.