On Monday I began to pre-record the worship service for a neighboring church. I set up my camera indoors with daylight not too bright, not too shadowy. I cleared clutter so my background did not distract from the prayers. I adjusted the height, angle and frame of the camera lens. I plugged in my microphone and tested the volume. I found a roll of tape to attach the Call to Worship to the window in view of my eye while looking at the camera lens. Yes, indeed, I am a rookie. My colleagues have spent over a year engineering a minutia of technical tips as weekly worship has been recorded or live-streamed from offices or sanctuaries or chapels or back porches.

So I began; one prayer at a time adding silence before and after, so that the church tech wizard has space to edit, clip and attach. Always, worship is a spiritual practice. And so, I take time in prayer before each take. I breathe. I gather my thoughts. And it just goes on and on and on. I watch my face in the silent start of the clip, I watch myself pray, I watch myself in the silence after the clip, I watch myself as I play it back, I watch myself as it uploads, I watch it again. Frankly, it is just too much Cindy.

The Lord’s Prayer follows the pastoral prayer. I know it by heart, but wait – does this particular church use “debts” not “trespasses”? Yes, I had to re-record the whole thing. It was a bit odd to be praying to our heavenly Father for a mother’s day sermon, and something nudged me to go look at the worship template again. The bulletin uses the inclusive language of “Creator”. Good, but now I have to re-record it. “Creator, who is in heaven, hallowed be your name.” Wait, did the church update the grammar along with the gender-image of God? I left the camera to go look at the template again. Nope. “Our Creator who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name.” I re-recorded. Again.

I was exhausted. And a bit horrified. Was my breathing pattern unnatural? Was my cadence off? Do I really have a booming “preacher voice” and doesn’t that sound silly in my living room? And those consonants, must I clip them like that? And do I look prayerful and caring enough? If I’m tired of my face, won’t they be too?

I went outside to sit and rest. To breathe. To lean into God, the one whom I serve and love, the one to whom I pray. I re-centered myself realizing that God is the focus, not me. But how harrowing to look, look, look at myself looking at myself. And I wonder if we, after a pandemic year of increased screen time, shall drift even more deeply into our individualistic egos. I want you to see Christ in my face. I want you to hear divine love in my voice. I want to lead with generosity and humility in my actions with you.

Perhaps the antidote to self-absorption is prayer. We turn our lives over to the love of God. We exchange our mirrored self-image for a lens of love. And as we spend more and more time in front of cameras and screens these days; let us see ourselves as beloved children of God. And may our God-loving image inspire others to see God’s love as well.