“Behind every beautiful thing, there’s been some kind of pain.” – Bob Dylan

In Luke 7, a notorious prostitute interrupts Jesus’ formal dinner with a religious leader, weeping loudly and pouring a very expensive jar of perfume on Jesus’ feet. The religious leader and even the disciples didn’t get it; they thought it was overly extravagant and frankly, weird. Jesus explained to the baffled group around the table, “whoever has been forgiven little, loves little.”
Often on Sunday mornings, I arrive at the church when it’s still nearly dark out, and by the time I exit this windowless cave, 6 hours later, my pupils the size of grapefruit, the power of the light can just about drive me to my knees.
In the same way, this woman had been a long time in the depths of a spiritual darkness, and now, in the presence of the light of the world, this worship was simply the outer response of an explosion of joy in her soul.

The light shone brightest to her, because she had been in the deepest darkness.

It’s those of us that have been allowed to come to the end of our rope in our sinfulness that really understand the power of the Father’s forgiveness.
It’s those of us that have been liberated from an addiction that have truly tasted the wonder of His freedom.
It’s those who have walked through a divorce that know His consolation.
It’s those who have struggled to make ends meet
that understand His providence.
It’s those of us who have lost someone we deeply love
that understand His peace.
It’s those of us who have truly wandered and done our best to screw up our lives that really know about His faithfulness.

This is the grounds for Ugly Worship – where our darkness meets the light of His grace, where every pain and loss can be healed into a celebration. This is how we learn that the enemy always loses – because every awful thing he throws at us is doomed to become inspiration for our praise to the living and never failing God. This is also a taste of the future – where every tragedy and defeat becomes a line in the song we sing to the conquering Lamb for all eternity, which, didn’t you know, will be filled with Ugly Worship?
In this record, we haven’t made an earth shaking contribution to music or theology, but what we have done is turn our corner of the pain of the world into a taste of the future. However small it may be, it is real, and it is a crumb from the table of the Father’s final resurrection feast.
In the past five years, this church, and this city, has weathered just about every storm imaginable and then some, and the fact that we’re still standing (and celebrating) is not a testimony to our strength, but to His grace.
We have been fearful; He has been faithful.
We have been lost; He has been our guide.
We have been in pain; He has been our Comforter.
We have been ugly; His beautiful grace has shone brighter and brighter.

So, we join this broken woman at Jesus feet, where our tears are redeemed, where our worship is honest and extravagant, and where we are blinded by the light of His joy, which never ignores our sadness, but rather turns it into a fertile soil for more joy to grow.
My hope is that this record would lead you there.