Worship Wars, Cadbury and You.

A few months ago, I had my first experience with Cadbury Chocolate Bars.  I'd had their eggs before, and having found them to be offensive both to taste and to health, had rejected them entirely (also I'd never trusted that egg-laying bunny.)  I'd never understood why anyone liked the company so much, especially when they were so critical of Hershey, which produced a far better product as far as I was concerned. I visited the factory and received free samples as a boy, ensuring my unwavering support for some time. But I had read an article, detailing the reasons the British were so very worried by an American company buying their beloved choclatier, explaining that the content of American chocolates were just not the same on a chemical level.  So I gave a Cadbury bar a shot.

Experience is directed by understanding.  I had not received the chocolate as any more than a thin coating around a sickeningly sweet filling.  I did not understand what I was missing, so convenience, loyalty,(the principle I'm driving at certainly allows for novelty instead) and sensation were more important than they should have been.  How often is this the case in our worship?  Our theology?

My first real memorable experience with traditional, liturgical, sacramental worship didn't come til my first year of college.  And I had the doctrinal knowledge to be excited about it.  I remember thinking, "This is like pure doctrine set to music! Should someone tell them?  Do other people know about this? Why didn't I?"  It seems to me that the errors in contemporary worship are born more of ignorance of the good things the hymnody has than anything else.  Perhaps if we taught the full beauty of our liturgy the worship wars would not be so much about proper theology because we would not be in dispute on these things.  Wouldn't it be nice if we really were in disagreement over adiaphora?  If the worship wars really were just about what instrument accompanied the divine service?  But instead we talk about the beauty of our worship amongst each other, and to those outside of our view, scream, as my middle school choir director once did, "No! No! No! You're doing it wrong!"