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“Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy to offer your bodies as living sacrifices holy and pleasing to God – this is your spiritual act of worship.” Romans 12:1
If there’s any place that exemplifies how translators struggle to find English words that convey ancient Greek thought, this is it. It’s a difficulty that has nested itself comfortably in the “worship wars.”
What is worship?
For decades, even centuries, worship was defined as a noun to represent an event that occurred on a specific day at a specific time for a predetermined period of time, i.e. on Sunday at 9:45AM to conclude no later than 11:15 providing ample time to beat the people from the community church down the street to the Sunday buffet. In this paradigm of worship as noun one’s relationship with the “event” could be passive. Ultimately, there was no participation required of those in attendance. It was by nature non-threatening for those in attendance due to its passivity. One could attend with very little personal capital invested in the event, perhaps none. With the exception of a small group of participants behind a podium it was largely a spectator sport. Large scale participation was limited to an occasional stand-sit-kneel-stand-sit routine punctuated by a snack consisting of bread and grape extract.
Not too long ago the definition of “worship as a verb” began to take hold. It wasn’t so much an event as it was something we did. Rather than going “to worship” on Sunday one would worship on Sunday at 9:45AM to conclude no later than 11:15 providing ample time to beat the people from the community church down the street to the Sunday buffet. In spite of its noble intentions, this semantic juggling act still allowed for pervasive levels of passivity on the part of those in attendance.
In recent years there has been an attempt to encapsulate the concept of worship as a “lifestyle.” While “worship as lifestyle” encourages participation in the above mentioned Sunday event that may or may not “leak” into weekday activities there is still, in large measure, a passive connotation inherent in this definition. Much like “Goth”, “Geek”, “Prep” or “Emo” are lifestyles that can come and go at the whim of fads and circumstances “lifestyle worship” includes a strong undertone of “trendiness.” There remains the alternative of being merely a spectator. The lifestyle worshipper can remain disengaged from the world and passively allow a t-shirt with a pithy Christian message to ineffectively carry their testimony or even exercise the option to not display a Christian worldview at all, remaining non-descript and being “of the world.” Just as other lifestyles are often best classified by a corresponding catalogue in the iTunes store, lifestyle worship carries the risk of being reduced to nothing more significant than the latest Grammy award winning category. “Worship as lifestyle” allows the “worshipper” to avoid engagement with the world as a mere volunteer or mercenary that can come and go at the whim of emotions or as circumstances dictate. Ultimately, it’s a very safe, capricious lifestyle.
Where does this leave us in the evolution of the definition of worship?
At the risk of “jumping the shark”…to be continued…
“And now these three remain, faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” I Corinthians 13:13
We have a game we like to play in our family. It can start at anytime, without any notice. Someone makes the first play by saying, “I love you.”
The other player responds with, “I love you, two [sic].”
Player one replies, “I love you, three.”
Player two, “I love you, four.”
The winner is the one who gets to rhyme with four and say, “I love you, more!”
Sometimes we play the game across a crowded room using sign language. Other times we pass notes back and forth during church.
On occasion we play it while holding hands. Three squeezes means, “I love you”. Four squeezes in response translates as, “I love you, two”, one squeeze for each word. Five squeezes, “I love you, three”, and so on until the winner responds with a “machine gun” of “I love you” squeezed signifying, “I love you, more!”
As a sign of our times, we’ve even been known to play the game via e-mail, instant messages and texting…even while gathered in the same room with our notebooks and phones on our laps!
I don’t remember when the game started. I have fond memories of playing it with all of the children since they were toddlers. My hands can still feel the quick, repetitive “squeeze, squeeze, squeeze” of little fingers wrapped around one of mine announcing, “The game is on!” Back and forth the squeezing or signs or some other form of communication would go; lob and volley, thrust and parry, offense and defense. And, it would always end the same way, “I love you, more!” with player two then feigning disappointment at losing.
The game was probably invented by Jennifer while we were still dating. So, it’s been played for quite a while. Played hundreds of times, maybe thousands, over all those years it was simply enough to “win.” That’s the only lesson I learned and, frankly, it’s the only lesson that mattered…”But the greatest of these is love.”
That is, until recently. In the last year I’ve discovered a pattern in the game that has eluded me for years. It’s a pattern that is innately part of the fabric, the DNA, of the game. If the players follow the rules of the game the pattern reveals itself each and every time it is played. And, this pattern goes against the very concept of fair play. It reveals that the game is rigged!
You see, regardless of the age or ability or aptitude or experience of the game the outcome is always the same. Without fail the game always ends with, “I love you, more!” And, provided the rules are followed, PLAYER ONE ALWAYS WINS!!! One hundred percent of the time, without any question, the one who says, “I love you” first wins. Once someone “loves” the outcome is assured.
When I perform wedding ceremonies I, of course, use I Corinthians 13, The Love Chapter. I challenge the bride and groom, and by proxy those gathered, to make their relationship(s) a race to see who can love first. Who does the dishes first? Who does the laundry first? Who mows the lawn first? Who washes the car first? Who gives up the remote first?
Who says, “I love you” first?
And in this, as well, the pattern reveals itself, whoever loves first wins!
Perhaps the more appropriate verse is Romans 5:8, “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
The authorized Joe Bassett paraphrase states it this way, “Price paid, life-debt forgiven (in fact, He overpaid and didn’t ask for change); game, set, match; mercy rule applied…Jesus wins!” Jesus loves us more. He loves more than we can ever love, He loves more than we can ever know, He loves more than we can ever imagine. He loved first…He wins.
Yep, the game is rigged and the outcome a foregone conclusion. Get over it…enjoy it…revel in it…celebrate it…bask in it. Do everything except try to deal with it because you’ll never get your mind around it. And, that’s OK. His love is an ocean, drown in it.
That’s why worship.
“From now on the Israelites must not go near the Tent of Meeting, or the will bear the consequences of their sin and will die.” Numbers 18:22
The Tent of Meeting was kind of like Starbucks for God and Moses. It’s where they met to discuss, chat, chew (burn) the fat, etc. Okay, I’m bordering on sacrilege. The point is that the Tent of Meeting is where God was manifest for the Israelites. Moses was allowed in to the Tent to be with God, the Levites were allowed within proximity of the Tent. Everyone else? Stay away!
Why? Because God’s presence reveals sin. God’s holiness publicizes those things that were hidden in shame. The glory of God shines a spotlight on just how dirty and nasty human deeds really are. Proximity to God let’s out the secret that we’ve all tried to deny; that is, we’re really dead.
We might act like we’re alive. We party and celebrate, act joyful, commiserate with friends. We fill our lives with things that fool us into feeling like we’re alive, even vibrant. Our check book registers and credit card statements are filled with purchases of wide screen TVs, cruises to the Med, dinners at the finest restaurants. But, they’re all just illusions of life. We all know it but are too prideful to admit…we’re dead. In spite of all the things we do to feign life we’re really empty, nasty, dirty carcasses.
Rather than being alive, we’re actually just puppets; lifeless marionettes manipulated by an unseen and ruthless puppeteer. Or maybe like poor Bernie in one of my favorite movies “Weekend at Bernie’s” (the first one, not the sequel). Like Bernie, we’re just used to perpetuate the illusion of life. Who is the puppeteer? Who’s pulling the string and manipulating through the charade of life? Satan, Lucifer, the father of all lies.
“Wait a minute, Joe,” you might say. Go ahead say it. “There are at least two problems with saying we’re dead. First, what if we just don’t go near God? Or second, isn’t that a rather vindictive god you’re describing?”
The cool part is both are perfectly valid questions and both have been answered with the same name. For the first point, God is here and we can’t get away from Him. And I don’t mean just metaphysically. God coming to earth to be with humans is what separates Christianity from all other religions. All other religions base “salvation” on us bringing ourselves to life; on us working our way to heaven. But, in Jesus, God came to us. And, because God came to us in the person of Jesus then His presence in the world revealed the dirty little secret that it was filled with death.
Second, God knows that we’re dead. He knows what we we’re deceived out of or may have discovered about ourselves but wouldn’t acknowledge. We can’t make ourselves better, we can’t evolve, we don’t improve…duh, we’re dead. Dead doesn’t get better. And, that breaks God’s heart. He created us to be alive. He created us as life. So He came in the person of Jesus.
There’s a common misunderstanding amongst us humans. It seems to cross the boundary between denominations, the divide between Christian and non-Christian, nationalities, philosophies, etc. That is, many people, I would argue, the majority of people believe Jesus’ mission in life was to make sick people better. Mentally sick people, morally sick people, physically sick people; the mis-belief is that He came to heal us. Or maybe to forgive us; to gloss over our sin. While it is true that He came to do all of those things, they were just to reveal who He is and as a means to an end.
No, Jesus came to bring dead people back to life. In the person who reveals that we are dead is also the breath that brings us back to life. In one fell swoop God did one of the most compassionate and kind things in all of history. He exposed our condition and broke the lie of Satan. No, broke isn’t strong enough. Vaporized, obliterated…I don’t think there is a strong enough word, but you get the idea. That is, we’re dead and we need of Savior. In that same fell swoop, He did the most kind and compassionate thing in all of history and that is that He gave us a way to life. And, He did it through the death and resurrection of Jesus.
Now, take a look at the check register and credit card statement. Re-examine the party schedule and social calendar. What does our life in Jesus look like? It’s not the view of an old rotting carcass anymore is it? The smell is sweeter, the colors brighter, the music more harmonic, the dancing more vibrant. Isn’t it good to be alive?
That’s why worship!
“Show me the wonder of Your great love, You who save by Your right hand those who take refuge in You from their foes. Keep me as the apple of Your eye; hide me in the shadow of Your wings from the wicked who assail me, from my mortal enemies who surround me.” Psalm 17:7-9
My daughter, Caribeth, and I share a special ritual. It’s not a planned or intentional thing; just something that started when she was an infant. At a whim, whenever the feeling strikes one of the two of us we’ll gently rest our foreheads against each other, stare into the other’s eyes and sigh a gentle “eeewwwww” like the sound of a cooing dove. We get so close that we can see our own reflection in each other’s eyes.
This special daddy-daughter moment goes all the way back to before she could speak. As an infant Caribeth was a very sedate child. We would tease that she didn’t really have a personality; much has changed since then. Anyway, most of her time as an infant was spent passively observing the world and soaking it all in through beautiful, big brown eyes that she inherited from her mother. About the only time that she would make a sound was when she would purse her lips into a tiny circle (which we in the family termed “little lips”) and coo like a tiny dove. Sometimes this would often happen after she had been crying. But, her crying was very rarely boisterous; rather it was a gentle whimper accompanied by a pouty lower lip.
In these moments, I would hold her face to face gently securing her in my arms. One day she began to gently lean toward me until our foreheads gently touched. As she relaxed her neck muscles leaving me with the sole responsibility of supporting her she sighed her gentle coo. From that moment on every time I held her in this position she would allow her forehead to be drawn toward mine until they touched followed by a gentle “eeeewwwww.” It was as if some magnets that created an irresistible attraction had been placed in our foreheads. Each time it would bring comfort to her heart and a sense of joy to mine.
Eventually, it grew past just crying moments. Whenever we were close enough face to face to see our reflections in each other’s eyes the “magnets” would take over and our foreheads would gently meet followed by a soothing coo. On some occasions all I had to do was lay on the floor and she would crawl toward me until I could see my reflection in her eyes then she would gently rest her forehead against mine and…well, you know.
This is the meaning of the phrase “apple of my eye.” It’s being so close to the one you adore that you can see your own reflection in their eyes. There are two components to this proximity. One is that you are so physically close that you can see yourself. The other is that you are emotionally close enough that the eyes moistened with delight. Contentment comes from the realization that only unconditional love would allow you that close and comfort is born out of the realization that the love and closeness is reciprocated.
How often do you let yourself be drawn that close to God…so close that you can see your own reflection in His eyes? And, so close that He can see the image of Himself in you? Worship is intended to be that close. Sometimes it grows out of your hurt; when you need to take refuge from your “enemies”…from the trials and temptations that are hurled at you. Let Him scoop you up in His arms, lean into Him and gaze into His eyes. Other times He just comes down to your world so that you can move close to Him and be content. Crawl over to Him and just relish the peace only He can bring.
Either way, it’s a moment of worship. You’re never too big to get close enough to see yourself in the Father’s eyes.
from A Slice of Infinity by Jill Carattini
In the book Night, Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel describes a moment in the concentration camp frozen in his memory. In the darkened corner of room, where the dead were slumped beside the living, his friend Juliek sat with his violin. On the brink of his own grave, he played notes pure and heavy to an audience of dead and dying men. Wiesel recalls, “[I]t was as though Juliek’s soul were the bow. He was playing his life. The whole of his life was gliding on the strings–his lost hopes, his charred past, his extinguished future. He played as he would never play again.”(1)
I cannot make sense of this scene other than to say, there are times when the gravity of a song flattens us. To this day, Wiesel admits, he cannot hear the sound of a violin without memory of Juliek dismantling all other thoughts. Perhaps similarly, you have been floored by a memory locked in a melody or leveled by the words of a song. In a very real sense, these are the images of worship. The Hebrew word for worship conjures a physical image, an outward response to an inward affection; to worship the Lord whether in song or in silence means “to prostrate oneself” before the Almighty. Far too often, this is not the result of the songs I sing.
It was for such a reason that John Wesley offered his congregation a list of guidelines for singing, even providing encouragement for the one who would claim he could not. In the preface to Sacred Melody, published in 1761, he wrote, “Sing all… Let not a slight degree of weakness or weariness hinder you. If it is a cross to you, take it up and you will find a blessing.” He had in mind both the expression of the community and the heart of the individual. Sing lustily, sing modestly, and with good courage, he instructed. Wesley sought to remind all that it takes audacity to approach a God holy and mighty, and boldness to sing of a hope weighted in God’s glory. “Above all, sing spiritually,” he concluded. “Have an eye to God in every word you sing. Aim at pleasing Him more than yourself, or any other creature… [A]ttend strictly to the sense of what you sing, and see that your Heart is not carried away with the sound, but offered to God continually.”
How often do we take in the enormity of the joy set before us, the weight of the words we profess?
Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it,
Mount of Thy redeeming love.
How often do we fathom the proclamations we make in our songs?
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed His precious blood;
How His kindness yet pursues me
Mortal tongue can never tell,
Clothed in flesh, till death shall loose me
I cannot proclaim it well.
And how many of the oaths we make are even unattainable without the intervention of Christ and the bold surrender of our souls?
O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.
On the occasions that we are leveled by God in the words we sing, it seems odd that we could ever have remained standing in the first place. Perhaps these are the times when God knocks us off our feet and leaves us like Isaiah, speechless in his presence. “The Truth must dazzle gradually,” wrote Emily Dickinson. “Or every man be blind.” Sometimes gently, sometimes fearfully, God reveals Himself to our hearts and minds.
Other times of worship require much more of us. We fight distractions and judgments, selfishness and pride. But we press on, taking thoughts captive, confessing the pride that blocks our vision, standing with determination to attend to what we sing. “For a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks” (John 4:23). A distracted, rejected, ill-reputed woman at a well was the first recipient of these words. With her eyes on Christ and her heart on her sleeve, she was leveled by God’s glory and given a new song to sing.
Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.
(1) Elie Wiesel, Night (New York: Bantam, 1982), 90.