For years I have been troubled by the contemporary American
Christian view of what "praise" is and what "worship"
is. This is grossly oversimplifying the
problem, but I trust you will understand: "Praise" is when the music
is fast and "worship" is when the music is slow. The first is hand-clappy; the second is
hand-raisey. "Praise" makes
you feel excited and glad to be a Christian, whereas "worship" fills
you with gooey emotions as you imagine yourself being in the very presence of
God. I meekly submit the possibility
that we are being manipulated by musicians in our quest to find and do true worship.
(Full disclosure: I spent more than a decade of my younger
years as a piano player and worship leader for several charismatic/pentecostal congregations,
trying like crazy to produce exactly the same effects as those which I have
just described. So my discomfort may
very well be tied to my intimacy with the issue. What honest cigarette-smoker wants to be
around someone who has just quit? The
evangelistic fervor of the new non-smoker is a disagreeable pain in the
backside for those who have no thought of cessation. Maybe it's the same with me; I grant the
possibility.)
But what happens when you don't like the style of music
played at your church? Someone very dear
to me dislikes modern worship choruses and loves the old hymns. That person has said to me, "I just
can't worship with that music." My
children (at least when they were young) loved modern worship music and despised
hymns, thinking any hymn-singing crowd to be the hallmark of dead religion. I find myself falling in the middle; I like
some of the new songs, but hate the lazy song-writing most of the new lyrics exhibit. Some of them seem like random slap-togethers
of religious-sounding phrases. And some
of the old hymns bore me, and some of them are a little questionable theologically
too. I find myself feeling a lot more
"worshipful" when there's a song being played that I like, and the
drummer executes a particularly clever and innovative fill (the drummer at our
church is very talented). I instantly
realize that my emotions are being manipulated by the music … but I didn't
recognize that when I was younger.
As far as "being in the very presence of God" is
concerned, though … whenever were you not
in the presence of God? It is a staple
of the Christian faith to believe that God is omnipresent; He is everywhere. Though He may choose not let you sense His presence, there is no place
where He is not. "In Him we live,
and move, and have our being" (Acts 17:28 NKJV). Where do we live? In Him. If our very existence is in Him, where can we
be that He is not? Our problem is our perception; our problem is
that we don't recognize Him.
Romans 12:1 says this: "I beseech you therefore,
brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice,
holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service" (NKJV). Normally I dislike using multiple translations
in order to cherry-pick the one that best supports the point I'm trying to
make, but the fact is that the "reasonable service" mentioned in this
verse does bear looking at in other versions.
The ASV presents it as "spiritual service"; the CEB as
"appropriate priestly service"; the ESV as "spiritual
worship." The Amplified, which is
useful for wringing every possible nuance out of the scriptures, presents
Romans 12:1 as this: "I appeal to you therefore, brethren, and beg of you in view of [all] the
mercies of God, to make a decisive dedication of your bodies [presenting all
your members and faculties] as a living sacrifice, holy (devoted, consecrated)
and well pleasing to God, which is your reasonable (rational, intelligent)
service and spiritual worship."
Here we get to the heart of the matter: Our "spiritual
worship" of God has little to do with our feelings. It has much to do with our actions.
There may be emotions that are stirred by the recognition of what God
has done for us—indeed, one would be astonished if there were not—but the act
of worship is a living, obedient, sacrificial thing that we do, not that we feel. I stumble a bit at my own characterization
that it is a living thing that we do,
for in a sense it is also a dying
thing that we do. It involves a death
to selfish pleasures in order that someone else may live, in clear-eyed recognition
of who God is, and what He has done for us.
It involves a death to our reputations and our fortunes and our comforts
in order that someone else may live, in clear-eyed recognition of who God is,
and what He has done for us. And it is
in this dying that we find ourselves more completely alive at a different
level.
In the coming posts, I will offer three or four examples of
what I call Acts of Worship. Please feel
free to debate or offer suggestions or examples of your own.