Every so often, I think it’s essential to remind you that introversion is a spectrum, and not everything I write, as an introvert, will be relatable to everyone on the introverted side of the spectrum. Some extroverts may find themselves relating to my experiences on a personal level. As you read today’s post, some of you will breathe a sigh of relief that you’re not the only one feeling this way, while others, even deeply introverted people, may find nothing in common with this scenario. Here we go.
Metacognition
Metacognition is a fancy term that simply means thinking about thinking. And I believe it’s one of the primary reasons that introverts often worship differently than their extroverted sisters and brothers in Christ.
As I’ve talked with other introverted Christians, I’ve picked up on a common thread. We are typically less expressive in our worship. That doesn’t mean we’re not “into” the worship. It doesn’t mean we love Jesus less. It simply means our worship sometimes looks different. For example, an extrovert could easily catch the social contagion of active worship and raise their hands and sway side to side, feeling no deep connection with the Holy Spirit or a particular love for Christ, but rather a deep sense of connection to the people around them. An introvert could be sitting during the lively worship set, quiet and still, filled with gratitude for God’s mercy and love for us.
Do not judge a book by its cover. I’m not saying all extroverts are putting on a show and that all non-singing introverts are deep in worship. But don’t judge a book by its cover.
& Introverted Worship
Last night we had a night of worship at our church, 90 minutes of singing together. At one point, the worship leaders encouraged people to “be free” in worship. I think they meant a particular kind of freedom. The freedom to dance and clap and hoot and holler. I don’t think they meant that we should feel free to sit still and not sing at all, but rather allow the words and music to wash over us, and carefully consider the meaning of the words.
Many people came to the front of the sanctuary and knelt on the floor, or raised their hands and danced. Towards the end of the evening, the worship team played some more celebratory praise songs, and a worship mosh pit formed in front of me. I had zero desire to join the group. They looked like they were having fun, singing loud and exuberantly; what more could a worship team desire from a crowd?
I used to worry it was rebellion. A desire to not conform to the group. I would get particularly distracted whenever a worship leader would give me instructions. Chris Tomlin once told a group of about 5,000 youth leaders to hold hands and dance in unison. I was one of the 5,000 and hated every second of this activity. While Chris, I’m sure a godly man with a pure heart, delighted in making a bunch of adults dance like David, I was not dancing in freedom. No, I was a captive, a hostage. Had I any inkling that Chris would make me do this, I would have already been in the bathroom, playing Angry Birds on my phone, waiting out the activity.
Not Rebellious, Just Introverted
I’ve learned it’s not rebellion. It’s metacognition. While extroverts often have the ability to just do something for the fun of it, introverts often are in two places at once. We are simultaneously in the event itself, but also observing it as an outsider would. We are thinking about the activity while we are doing it. I’m considering holding hands with a stranger, something I would never do voluntarily. I’m thinking about jumping up and down with a few thousand adults. Not thinking about how grateful I am for God’s mercy and love, no, I’m thinking about how silly this all is. I’m thinking about how tired my feet are after walking through the conference all day, now jumping to a worship song, unable to sing as my knees and back grow weary. Silently recounting how many times Chris has sung the bridge to try and anticipate how much longer the song might be. I wonder if the men on either side of me are as uncomfortable as I am and would much rather sit in the lobby and pray for each other’s families and ministries.
Sure, it would be great to just get lost in the moment and let go. But that’s not how I’m wired. It may be a hindrance at a worship event, but what a blessing it is when sitting next to someone in hospice care. Quietly listening to the person’s stories without interjecting my own. What a blessing it is to feel comfortable when the conversation lulls and stalls, with no anxious moments, as the room has been silent for three and a half minutes.
Like many introverts, there are times when I am more demonstrative in my worship. But it’s when I feel like God delights in it, not Chris Tomlin, or my local worship leader. When I feel like there’s a point to it, not just a feeling, but an understanding that God is delighting in this natural response to those moments of silent reflection.
I’m all for pushing our comfort zones. However, I would always caution the extroverted half of the church that our lack of visible action does not mean we are less than. Worship leaders, if God is telling you to tell us to do something, then obey. But if it’s just because you want us to mirror what you are doing, realize that many of us have been taken out of obedience to God to make a decision whether or not to obey you.
The Introverted Pastor 