So I Put My Hands Up, and then down.

Things are not always as they seem.

For example, I like to "fake punch" people as a sign of affection.  I'm not sure where that started, or why I still do it.  I'm not really even capable of being violent.  I would always get yelled at by my martial arts instructors to "hit harder!" "Think of someone you hate, and hit harder!"  Never worked.

However, my affectionate punches tie in nicely with something I heard at a concert this week.

Gareth Gilkeson of The Rend Collective Experiment made a statement about worship that I intend on quickly implementing.  He said (in a delightful and resonant Northern Irish accent):  "We all come to church guarded.  Every one of us, whether we are in front or in the back of the room.  So, we should all come to the church service with our hands up like this" 

Think this picture:

Gilkeson goes on to say:

"And so after we come in like this, our first act of worship should be to put our hands down." 

He went on saying: "We are not like machines, being manufactured the same.  We were not created for uniformity, but for unity."

Things are not as they seem in the church, and the whole world knows it.  We are all tired of fake promises of friendliness that don't lead to friendship, as well as hospitality that only sits on a table instead of sitting together at a table.  

Even so, what if all of us--me and you, you and me--what if we chose to put down our barriers ahead of time?  What if instead of coming to church with a stance of entitled expectations, we came with a stance of surrender?  

If we did, what would the church look like?