Refreshing Worship

I don’t know how many churches I’ve been in.  Surely the number is in the hundreds.  Mostly, but not exclusively, Baptist.  They have been large, medium, and small; red, yellow, black, and white; city, suburb, small town, and open country;  alive, dying, and dead (with delayed funerals).  In most, I have worshipped, at least at some point in the service.  In many, I have preached. Some time ago, I was invited to preach in a Texas town so small, few Texans had ever even heard of it.  In fact, as I crossed a river, and saw the city limit sign, there were very few houses, even fewer places of business, and no school.  But there was a beautiful church building, with many cars on the parking lot (and even more pick-up trucks). By 11:00am, the auditorium, which probably could seat two to three hundred people, was comfortably full. When the choir (not praise team) entered, they were led by the men (almost as many as women) and seated behind the orchestra (yes, they had a ten-piece orchestra). The music was electric, worshipful, dynamic, and it seemed from where I sat, that everyone was singing.  The thirty-four-member choir was powerful, and all were happy (Deliver me from frowning musicians). While I still don’t know where all those people came from, I’m glad they were there, and it appeared that they were glad to be there.  My sermon was well received (It’s really hard to preach after bad music).  It seemed that most of the audience wanted to speak to my wife and I after the service.  When we finally got in our car, I remembered the words of Paul in Philemon 7, “the hearts of the saints have been refreshed.”  Then my wife, asked, “Can we move out here, so we can go to this church every Sunday?”  My question was – why can’t every church worship like this one?