Spirit of Worship

I have a secret past time.
I really enjoy watching people worship. I know it's not exactly a spectator sport. But, for some reason, in the midst of "making a joyful noise" with a body of fellow believers, I sometimes stop singing and observe the people around me.
I mostly find myself observing worship at those times when I may not particularly care for the song, or maybe don't know the words yet. These are times when I could easily become distracted by my preferences and miss out on a corporate worship experience. I suppose God knew of my brief attention span and self-centeredness. Thus, instead of allowing me to be distracted, He opened my eyes to the lyrics, rather than the tune, and to the people around me.
When I "worship-watch" I feel like I'm watching the movement of the Holy Spirit. Somehow the expressions on people's faces, their voices, and their actions cause me to visualize the concept of being sprit-filled or, as my pastor said this morning, "put flesh on it." It's one of the times where I stand in awe of God. And while I may not know the song, I can read or listen to the words, and see the worship of others, and praise God with the inspired words of the songwriter regardless of the tune.
This morning the thought came to mind of the age-old "debate" (as some may call it) over worship "styles" (for some reason I have a hard time using a word synonymous with fashion as a descriptor for honoring and praising the all-powerful, omnicient, holy God of the universe, but I digress...).
You know the "sides" -- people who say they prefer "traditional" worship music and don't care for the modern stuff, can't get "into" praise music, think it's loud, etc.; then there are others who view the traditional hymns and ballads as tired and stale, and would prefer their corporate worship to be akin to their last rock concert experience.
The lines drawn here are largely generational.
I've worshipped with and watched them both.
I've watched the traditionalists in their tidy clothing, hymnals open, organ playing, enjoying the choir....
I've observed the contemporary set, with layered, strappy tank tops and bermuda shorts, jumping up and down, moving to the beat of the drums, practically screaming the lyrics to hear themselves over the bass...

What I've noticed is that while the rhythm of worship may be generational, the Spirit is timeless. The same Spirit that soothes is the One who fires up.
I guess when God opened my eyes to the people worshipping around me, He opened my eyes to Him, in them, moving and breathing.
The living God, alive.