This last Sunday my wife and I attended Marsden First United Methodist Church on South Road, by John Smith's Bay. We were there to support our friend Eugene Phillips, who was filling in for Marsden's pastor, Rev Joseph Whalen, Jr.We parked alongside South Road and walked into the sanctuary, which I was glad to note was air-conditioned. Immediately I got the feeling of a place well-cared for. It says something about a group's relationship with the Lord when the place where they worship Him is kept up, has some aesthetic appeal, and makes you feel like something of quality happens there.After we got seated, I noticed that the worship band members were adjusting their equipment and getting ready. These guys looked like they knew what they were doing. I noticed that in the bulletin it indicated that we were about to attend the “contemporary service”. Evidently, the traditional service had already taken place. Contemporary was just fine with me; the band had a bass player (who had a fine, wood-grained, five-string bass), a keyboard man (who was starting to warm up with some light, soft-jazz sounding stuff), a drummer (who later laid down quite a strong a beat, but who, on another song, did this light dancing across the cymbals that was like pixies fluttering their wings), and a guitarist who had a rig extending from the bridge of his instrument that looked like a special effects processor or guitar-synth, but it didn't sound like he needed special effects, because his playing was clean and complemented everything else. These guys were not just great musicians, they were also sensitive to the flow of the worship.And I want to tell you I got into it. Now, some people have to jump up and dance around; they have to make noise and be large in their response. Me? If you see me suddenly go still, drop my head, close my eyes, and start to sway just a bit with my head and shoulders, then please do not disturb, because I have become transported. I didn't just want to listen to those guys; I wanted to play with them. And I was suddenly not just sitting in a church on South Road; I was in a group of people who are not this-life-only in nature. Do you know what I mean?There were seven or eight singers in the choir, and they could sing! The worship leader was a director, and she gave signals to the team that made the flow of the worship quite effective. It didn't hurt that she had a warm smile that lit up your soul when she looked you in the eyes.I found myself wondering how Eugene was going to top all that great music. He had been a worship leader himself, and I could see he was worshipping with the rest of us and not simply waiting and getting himself ready to speak.It is a difficult thing to be present in support of a friend for such an occasion. One can become distracted by good wishes and subtle anxieties, hoping the friend does well, and one can be concerned that he might stumble a bit, or that the people might not respond, might not understand what he is saying. One can forget what is really going on, that it is worship, that it is God's word being proclaimed, but I should have known better. I should have known better for two reasons: Eugene knows what he is doing and God's word does not return to Him void.You cannot fake knowing and loving the Lord. Not really. Some time ago I had realised that Eugene knows the Lord, and I suspected that he knew what he wanted to share with us all that Sunday morning, but I had never heard him speak before. I have to admit that I was a tad concerned when, about 15 to 20 minutes into the sermon, after sharing a bit about his life and family and such, he let us know the three things he wanted to talk to us about that day (What? You're just now getting to the sermon?!) But no. I reminded myself of something important: This is a Bermudian service where they take time for the worship and as much or even more time to present a message that is a full setting of the table. No gospel light. No 20 minutes and out by noon.And even if Eugene had not known what he was doing, God does. God said, “So will My word be which goes forth from My mouth; It will not return to Me empty, Without accomplishing what I desire, And without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it.” (Isaiah 55:11)Something uncanny and supernatural happens when God's word is proclaimed. Either it softens and illuminates a person, leading the one who hears it to understanding, or it hardens a person, making his or her darkness all the more impenetrable.This, by the way, is why you cannot argue a person into the Kingdom of God. No matter how great your proofs, how exacting your interpretation of scripture, and how relevant your analogies or illustrations, if that person has already hardened his or her heart, the truth will only make it harder still. It is not a matter of the cogency of one's speaking, it is a matter of the condition of the receiving heart to what is said. When God's word is proclaimed, that proclamation makes the elect more certain and the lost more confused.One of the prizes for me of living in Bermuda has been the opportunities I have had to experience how various people worship God, what their churches look like, how they take care of worship, and how deeply they appreciate the preaching. I did not begin with the intention of visiting a lot of churches and doing research focused on Christianity, but now that that has happened my understanding of what is central to Christianity and what is not has become more nuanced. This last Sunday at Marsden was a pleasure and an addition to the ongoing “research project”.