I DON'T FEEL THE ENERGY IN THE ROOM
One of the criticisms I hear about self-restraint is this: “You’ll go nuts cheering for your favorite team at the game but you can’t cheer for Jesus in church!”
Years ago I was given two tickets to a Philadelphia Flyers game. I invited a friend in ministry who was a Flyers fan. It is often said that in the middle of a fistfight a hockey game might break out, and that was true in this particular game. An altercation arose on the ice and suddenly the entire arena was on its feet, shouting encouragement to the Flyers’ player who was punching at his opponent.
The entire arena – except for me, it seemed.
I looked over at my friend who was on his feet cheering on the fight. I think he felt me watching him, and when he sat down, he asked, “How can you just sit there? Don’t you feel the energy in the room?”
I didn’t. The atmosphere actually interfered with my enjoyment of the game.
A few years back I purchased tickets for our family to attend a concert featuring the band Chicago, popular when my wife and I were in high school. My wife is an ardent fan of Chicago. I enjoy Chicago’s music too, and I was calmly enjoying the concert, though I was somewhat annoyed that everyone decided to get on their feet and remain standing, blocking my view of the stage.
When Chicago launched into a familiar high-powered hit toward the close of the concert, my wife beside me jumped up and down, shouting excitedly. They were playing a song she had been waiting for all night.
I liked the song too. Just much less exuberantly.
I have nothing against my friend’s or my wife’s feelings or expressions of excitement. I just don’t share them. I tend to be less expressive in emotional situations because I think I’ve learned about myself that bypassing thoughts and giving free rein to emotions generally leads me more to folly than to wisdom, whether the emotion engaged is anger, sadness, or elation.
Over the years I’ve developed a habit of dispassionate sobriety as a matter of course. It is pretty much my personality, though I can still be overcome by emotion in some situations.
Some consider this restraint emotionally problematic, but for most of history, humanity has considered it wisdom. That sobriety colors my approach to a host of things, including some worship practices in which I don’t participate because I simply don’t “feel the energy in the room”.
Sometimes I think that is a good thing.
Perhaps sometimes it isn’t.
Years ago I was given two tickets to a Philadelphia Flyers game. I invited a friend in ministry who was a Flyers fan. It is often said that in the middle of a fistfight a hockey game might break out, and that was true in this particular game. An altercation arose on the ice and suddenly the entire arena was on its feet, shouting encouragement to the Flyers’ player who was punching at his opponent.
The entire arena – except for me, it seemed.
I looked over at my friend who was on his feet cheering on the fight. I think he felt me watching him, and when he sat down, he asked, “How can you just sit there? Don’t you feel the energy in the room?”
I didn’t. The atmosphere actually interfered with my enjoyment of the game.
A few years back I purchased tickets for our family to attend a concert featuring the band Chicago, popular when my wife and I were in high school. My wife is an ardent fan of Chicago. I enjoy Chicago’s music too, and I was calmly enjoying the concert, though I was somewhat annoyed that everyone decided to get on their feet and remain standing, blocking my view of the stage.
When Chicago launched into a familiar high-powered hit toward the close of the concert, my wife beside me jumped up and down, shouting excitedly. They were playing a song she had been waiting for all night.
I liked the song too. Just much less exuberantly.
I have nothing against my friend’s or my wife’s feelings or expressions of excitement. I just don’t share them. I tend to be less expressive in emotional situations because I think I’ve learned about myself that bypassing thoughts and giving free rein to emotions generally leads me more to folly than to wisdom, whether the emotion engaged is anger, sadness, or elation.
Over the years I’ve developed a habit of dispassionate sobriety as a matter of course. It is pretty much my personality, though I can still be overcome by emotion in some situations.
Some consider this restraint emotionally problematic, but for most of history, humanity has considered it wisdom. That sobriety colors my approach to a host of things, including some worship practices in which I don’t participate because I simply don’t “feel the energy in the room”.
Sometimes I think that is a good thing.
Perhaps sometimes it isn’t.