What to do with a heart of childlike faith.

God bless Erin.

After a year of being under my supervision and after two-odd years of singing back-ups, she's finally starting to get it. Today at service, and even yesterday at practice, I saw something in her I have not seen in her before, something I haven't even seen in that church in a long time (maybe even ever).

She was actually worshipping.

It didn't matter that her voice wasn't the strongest or that her melody was slightly off. Her face was glowing and the song in her heart manifested in the outside, reflecting a desire to really get into God. She was raising her hands and she was oblivious to everyone around her. I have to admit that it was her energy and passion that pushed me to be more passionate during worship.

A part of me (that post-modern demon that wants to be rational and cool) thought it was childish and naive, but the true gut-feeling in my heart said "this is EXACTLY what we need. This is EXACTLY what I want. This is the most awesome thing I've ever seen in a long time."

Erin is starting to get it, and I'm glad.

During Kuya Mario's sermon, I had an awesome insight. I have been treating this whole gig as a religion. My church life, my worship-leading and administration have all been merely me just going through the motions, going through the rites, the practices and traditions. Trappings of the religion. It's so easy to be religious and lose track of what really matters. Even in the Christian church.

But my real day-to-day existence proved that I did not get it at all. I was stressed-out, spaced-out, freaked-out, egotistical, boorish, self-indulgent and obnoxious most of the time. I had forgotten that this was about a relationship. God wants to have a relatioship with me, and if my church activities do not reflect my desire to have that relationship, then I was in big trouble.

I guess it came when I realized that some people weren't listening to his sermon and I thought to myself, "why are they ignoring this? these are the words of life!" And then it hit me that people (myself included) have been treating it like a ritual ... a chore. Like cleaning the dishes. Something undesirable but necessary. Where's the life in that?

At the end of service, I told the congregation, right before the closing song ...

"This is not religion.
This is not religion.
This is not religion."