Sitting in Miller Chapel that day, for the first time in my life the order of worship seemed fast paced and tightly structured. It went strictly according to the printed program. The music was pleasant enough, but it was disconnected from worship for me because I could not recognize anything the organist played. Thus I was at pains to incorporate the music into my meditative quest for the presence of God. Music had always been special for me because in my tradition the familiar hymns played by the organist were heard as a testimony to the faithfulness and steadfast love of God. Not being able to recognize the music left me longing for a testimony from the instruments.

Because I came to maturity in the nonliturgical National Baptist Convention, the formal liturgy, though interesting, struck me as cold and contrived. As I read the written prayer, I felt I was worshipping with my lips while my heart was far from God. The sermon of the student preacher struck me as a folksy chat with plenty of laughter to go around but not as a provocative, life-altering word from on high. To top it off, the worship service ended with no invitation to Christian discipleship. The metaphorical “doors of the church” were never opened, and worshippers were not invited to come and give their hands to the preacher and their hearts to God. I kept wondering that first day how one went about “joining” a Presbyterian church. I thought to myself on the way out, “Boy, I’m glad they don’t require you to come to this service every day.”

Thirteen years later, I have either been co-opted by the Presbyterian expression of the Reformed tradition, or my provincial view of the kingdom of God has been significantly enriched and enhanced. Probably a little of both. I now believe that chapel, at its best, respects the various traditions on campus, but never allows the service to stray too far from some recognizable form of Reformed decency and order in worship. Those in charge of chapel worship encourage students to express the particulars of their traditions while insisting that they be mindful of the broader worship community.

For example, David Weadon, the Seminary’s former director of music, allowed leaders to select hymns that were meaningful to their traditions, but he would not allow them to select those he felt were inappropriate for certain occasions or at certain places in worship. When a worship leader asked David why he or she couldn’t sing a song of choice, David gently gave a lesson about the purpose and place of each hymn in the worship setting.

However, David also listened to why a hymn of choice was meaningful to a preacher. And while he usually won the argument, both went away with an appreciation for the other’s theological perspective and faith tradition. Usually, preachers were offered a hymn they recognized, but it was a hymn that David considered appropriate for worship that day.

Michael Livingston, the former director of the chapel, in his own quiet and unobtrusive manner, also insisted that the interests of the broader worshipping community be recognized and respected. He gently nudged novice preachers toward inclusive language and jokingly shamed the long-winded Baptists into preaching shorter homilies in the chapel.

Daily worship in Miller Chapel has been a broadening experience for me that continues to be both meaningful and instructive. It continues to be the place where the community regularly gathers around what unites us — the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I have always been amazed at the power of the Gospel to reach across denominational, geographical, and racial barriers. Placing myself in the rhythm of that reach, I have learned in chapel to look for what unites us while at the same time respecting the many and various expressions of faith within this community.

Now, after thirteen years, I recognize and sing with some confidence many of the hymns of the Presbyterian church. Those I truly recognize, I sing with full-throated joy and gusto. Those that I continue to have difficulty with I sing in a muted first gear. More importantly, I’ve attended chapel long enough to know that even the Presbyterians don’t recognize all the hymns that are played and sung in chapel!