Andy Stanley, a prominent pastor in Georgia, wrote in his new book Deep and Wide, “I love everything we do and I love the way we do it. But that doesn’t make it right. That just makes it comfortable. Predictable. But perhaps ineffectual.”

Last week, Anchor’s worship team practiced with the worship team of a nearby black church. We’re doing a joint service together on Dec 23. I found it discombobulating, somewhat uncomfortable. They are just so different from us. But they have an extravagant passion for Jesus. And to the credit of our worship team, though we found the experience foreign and out of our comfort zone, we also found it to be exhilarating. I can’t wait to practice with them again on Thursday night.

I like how we do things at Anchor. I like our music, our style, our patterns. It’s all comfortable for me. But that doesn’t make it the right way to do things, nor the best way to do things.

It’s good to be stretched and thrown off balance.

Me and Jenny Vergon with our high school letter jackets. Be true to your school!

This morning at Anchor, we had a schooldays theme. Pastor Tim recognized everyone who is attending school, and everyone who works in a school setting. The message was directed to the younger children, who then all received a pack of crayons. We’ve been collecting school supplies for kids for a while, in cooperation with Grace Presbyterian. Those supplies were given out at Grace this afternoon.

After Tim passed out the crayons, the worship team did the Beach Boys song, “Be True to Your School.” Two of us on the worship team remembered to bring our high school letter jackets–me, and Jenny Vergon. Jenny’s jacket still fit great, but mine was pretty tight. However, I squeezed it on.

I played two years of varsity tennis at Tulare Union High School in Tulare, Calif. We were co-champs of the East Yosemite League both years. We then won outright in a playoff both years, thereby earning the chance to compete in the San Joaquin Valley championship, where we ended up 3rd or 4th each year. Glory days. However, the patches on our jackets still said “co-champs.” I was captain my senior year, which gave me an additional star.

I always loved wearing that jacket. Even when I earned a college letter jacket after my freshman year, I preferred wearing my high school jacket with all the additional bling. Call me insecure. Yeah, I probably was. This made a skinny kid feel (if not look) like a real athlete.

Last summer, I threw out my college letter jacket after removing the big “H.” The cheap lining in the sleeves was disintegrating, leaving red specks everywhere. A hopeless cause. But my high school jacket was still tucked away in a storage bin, where Pam located it last night before church.

Do you realize how uncomfortable your wooden church pews are? I don’t care how much padding you added to them, because it’s never enough. They’re too narrow, too hard, the backs are terribly uncomfortable, and there’s not enough leg room. Probably. Maybe. I’m generalizing.

You don’t notice, because you’re used to your pews. Discomfort is the norm. But not so for me.

The past two weeks, I’ve been in churches with wooden pews. I find myself constantly squirming, trying to get comfortable. I continually adjust, twisting this way and that, crossing my legs one way and then the other, never fully satisfying (for long) the complaints of my back and tailbone.

The lack of leg room can be pitiful, too, especially as you bump knees and shins on protruding hymnal racks. It’s almost as bad a flying coach, except that pews don’t recline and there’s no neck support, no contours, no pillows, no armrests…. Come to think of it, it’s a lot worse than flying coach.

I say this reluctantly, because I fully acknowledge the validity of all of these statements:

• It’s unspiritual to be comfortable during worship.
• The churches in Acts had pews.
• A church with pews is more worshipful than a church without.
• The more ornate the wood, the more sacred the sanctuary.
• The Holy Spirit is far more present in churches with pews.
• If Jesus could hang on a cross for me, how can I complain about an hour sitting in a wooden pew?

We’re spoiled at Anchor. When Anchor went through its “restart” in 1998, the wooden pews were yanked from the floor and replaced with green, heavily-padded chairs (like the one above). I can sit in them for hours without discomfort, whether sitting up straight or in my usual slouch. The cushioned seat is very wide, thereby accommodating persons who are amply endowed on the backside. We shallow, carnal churchgoers can fully concentrate on the sermon without once thinking about our aching backs or tailbones.

So when I go to a church with pews, I really struggle. I just can’t get comfortable.

And that’s probably how your church’s visitors feel. They check out your service, and the lasting impression is, “Those pews really suck.”