It feels really good to sit up, pull our shoulders back, and take a deep breath. But if we were to try to add a fourth thing—to hold it and derive the maximum benefit from that breath of fresh air we can possibly derive—after a while we’d find the initial gratification of that deep breath wore off and we were gasping for air. We need to repeat the process of breathing in order to keep from passing out.
Why is that the case? Our bodies were made to function on oxygen. To live means we must breathe—in fact, if we try to live without breathing, it won’t take us very long to discover it can’t be done. Our body will literally force us to breathe or we’ll shut down. If we try holding our breath, we can only do it for so long before we’re drawn to inhale rich, full gulps of air.
Just as our bodies were created to need oxygen, our spirits were created to worship. Worship is to be as natural to us as breathing. But when we neglect or misdirect it, our lives shrivel up and something within us dies. Part of how God made us is we long to find meaning and substance in something outside of ourselves—something to orient our lives around—and then express our devotion and allegiance to it. For we all worship. While only a percentage of Americans attend church during any given week, we all worship. We may worship money ... or pleasure ... or education ... or experiences ... or power ... or people’s approval ... or our family ... of our job. But we all worship. We all have something our life is built around that serves to give it meaning and provide content for our existence.
Through properly directed worship, our lives are enriched. We are better able to deal with the twists and turns of life. We’re in a better position to handle life’s tragedies and difficulties. There’s a power and a purpose that comes to our lives through worship. Worship renders us healthier, more confident, and more assured. And, by the same token, when we misdirect our worship—when our worship is revealed to be some cheap, inadequate substitute—we find that our lives are diminished, weakened, and impoverished.
In the past couple of posts, I’ve been talking about renewal and some of the things we can do that can open a window for it. I talked about the essence of renewal being a return to Jesus as the primary focus of our faith—that renewal is, at its very core, an openness to Jesus whereby we allow Him to invade our lives and transform everything He comes in contact with. And I also talked about how an atmosphere for renewal is augmented when we return to God’s Word and allow it to assume an authoritative role in our lives—when we let the Word of God be simply that ... the Word of God!
In this post I want to consider a third element or principle of renewal. It’s this: Renewal is fostered amongst a people who have an understanding of, and commitment to, the worship of God. Renewal will take place in an atmosphere where worship is genuine and authentic ... where it is real ... where there’s a sense of life and spontaneity ... where people truly give themselves to it and engage in it not because it’s the expected thing to do, but because they desire, through their worship, to come into greater contact with God. Renewal happens amongst a people whose worship of God is dynamic and potent, not mechanical and perfunctory.
And … where there’s an authentic sense of worship, new forms of worship will spring up. Where worship is alive, new methods of worshipping will emerge. People will develop expressions of worship that are faithful to the ages while contemporary to the times. I’m reminded, again, of Martin Luther who wrote the text to A Mighty Fortress Is Our God. It’s a very stately hymn that celebrates God’s strength and power. But many people of his day were troubled by the fact the tune to which this text has been sung now for centuries was originally a familiar beer-garden melody. The numerous hymns of Charles Wesley, penned in England during the 1700’s, were done primarily to teach theology to the coal miners amongst whom the Wesley brothers spent so much of their time. And the melodies to which their texts were set were common secular tunes of the day. They took these familiar tunes—ones people were familiar with and related to—and made them vehicles by which the truth of God was distributed. They became forms of worship—means by which people could express their adoration of God.
Of all the elements of renewal, the issue of worship is perhaps the most troubling. Any pastor will tell you that, of all the wars waged in initiating church change, few are fraught with more potential for casualties than when you begin tampering with worship styles and, in particular, music. Music is perhaps the biggest deal driving people’s emotional response to worship. Strongly held tastes run deep. But, as someone once said, what’s deep is not necessarily wide. One person’s musical appreciation is often exclusive of the tastes of the people around him/her. Some people think real music must be at least 100 years old and composed by someone with a Ph.D. Others think anything more than ten years old is out of touch and needs to be permanently banished. In fact, a pastor friend who is attempting to navigate a middle-of-the-road path musically, recently told me how, during the same week, two families came to him with complaints about the music. One held the more traditional views—the other the more contemporary. But both said the same thing—they were considering leaving the church because they weren’t hearing enough of their preferred musical style in worship.
History often follows a recurring cycle. And here’s one I’ve observed as it relates to worship. When there’s a movement of renewal, new worship forms spring up—forms that are more attuned to the culture of the unchurched than the culture of the churched. But after a while, this new form infiltrates the church, becoming the new standard worship form.
If you consider the history of Christianity in North America, you’re aware of this. Two hundred years ago churches were dominated by music that was formal and driven by the organ—hymns with powerful texts that typically highlighted the nature and character of God—A Mighty Fortress Is Our God … When I Survey The Wondrous Cross—songs like that. But during the tent meetings and open-air revival services of the mid-1800s, a new expression of worship began to emerge—the gospel song. This music was piano driven and more peppy and lively. Songs typically featured a refrain and weren’t so much about the character of God but our personal experience with him—Blessed Assurance, Jesus Is Mine … When We All Get to Heaven—songs like that. These new songs weren’t readily accepted by the established church culture, for it was a style of music that was more attuned to the culture of the unchurched. But what happened in due time was new churches sprung up and adopted this style of music as their accepted worship form. As a result, this style which was initially regarded with suspicion worked its way into the life of the church to where it is now considered “traditional”.
In the last fifty years we are seeing the same sort of thing happen again with the introduction of guitars and rhythm instruments into Sunday worship—again, a form of music that is more attuned to the culture of the unchurched—and the proliferation of choruses that put Scripture to music. These expressions of worship were the product of the renewal surrounding the Jesus people movement of the late 60’s and early 70’s—a movement outside the boundaries of mainstream Christianity. I remember, as a fifth or sixth grader, the teen choir at our church having to perform their musical in the Fellowship Hall because they had guitars and drums and church leadership didn’t think those instruments were appropriate in the sanctuary. But what you see today are a new breed of churches springing up that embrace this as its adopted form of worship … and some of these elements have drifted over into more traditional churches and caused them to modify their approach. This expression of worship, which was more or less at the fringe of Christianity when I was a kid, has gained acceptance.
Here's my point: Renewal happens in an atmosphere were worship is vibrant and meaningful. And one of the realities that accompanies such renewal is the emergence of new ways and methods of expressing our love to God.
Which brings us a passage of Scripture found in John 4. Jesus and His disciples were passing through Samaritan territory and happened to pull up to a well near the village of Sychar about midday. Jesus instructed his disciples to go into town and get some food, so he was there by himself when a woman walked up. Breaking social convention, he engaged her in a discussion and, as he demonstrated his profound insight into who she was and what was going on in her life, he captured her interest.
But when the conversation took a religious turn, she couldn’t help but point out how their beliefs and worship practices varied. The primary difference the Jews and Samaritans was geographical: Jewish worship centered around the Temple in the city of Jerusalem and the Samaritans’ around their temple in the village of Shechem on Mt. Gerizim. And the lady’s question was, “Which one’s right? Which one is the place where God can be found?”
Jesus’ answer caught her by surprise. For He told her, in essence, the “where” was no longer important—that a new order was being put in place that rendered the question meaningless. In fact, the question she needed to be asking had changed. It wasn’t a matter of “where can God be found?”; it was “how is God found?”. V. 23-24: “A time ... has come when the true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in spirit and in truth”.
The essence of what Jesus was saying to her, and us, is this. Genuine worship is not tied to a set place, or a set season, or a set ritual, or a set form. Worship isn’t a matter of doing the proper things in the proper place at the proper time. As a spiritual being, the worship in which God delights is accordingly spiritual. Sincere heart-devotion, whenever and wherever it’s found, is the essential quality of worship. That’s what God is looking for.
Most of us, if we had put to us the same question the Samaritan woman put to Jesus—if we were asked where and how God can be found—we’d probably give an answer that would be tied to a particular form of worship we find meaningful. God can be found when we come together and lift the words of a great hymn in praise ... or when we gather around the altar for prayer ... or when the Scripture comes to life through the proclamation of its truth. But I find it interesting Jesus didn’t mention form when He talked about true worship. He basically said, “Let people worship God authentically and don’t worry about form.” For when our heart is right with God, we can worship in any form. Put us in a traditional and formal atmosphere and we can worship. Put us in a relaxed, loosey-goosey atmosphere and we can worship. Put us in the middle of a group of brothers and sisters halfway around the world who speak a different language and we can worship. For while we’ll always have our preferences, we can worship anywhere. For to worship is to, in our deepest being, offer ourselves up to God—to become, as Romans 12:1 says, “living sacrifices”. To worship is to prostrate our spirit before His Spirit. And when a person is making that kind of statement to God, you don’t concern yourself with the form. The important thing is the reality that lies behind it.
Worship isn’t a matter of form. Technique, method, and style have nothing to do with whether or not we worship. Just because this group worships in a more expressive or contemporary manner and this group worships in a more staid or traditional manner has nothing to do with whether or not worship has actually taken place. For worship is not a matter of going through the paces, whether those paces be demonstrative and current or traditional and established. Worship is something that happens on the inside.
So … if worship is something that happens on the inside—if it is something that is not tied to location or tradition or form—then how can I tell when I’m truly worshipping? How can I determine, when the church service is over, whether I’ve actually worshipped or just happened to sit through a religious activity?
I’m helped by the insights of the late Tim Keller who put it this way. He said worship is a two-pronged activity—that it involves not only seeing what God is worth but also giving Him what He’s worth. Worship is treasuring God—pondering His worth and then doing something about it. Thus, worship is something that must engage our emotions and will as well as our mind. To merely learn a practical truth about God is to be intellectually stimulated or educated, but it is not the same thing as worship. Worship happens when we take that truth about God and apply it … when that truth shapes our life and actions.
For instance, I may know intellectually that God is good and desires the best for me … that He cares deeply and has my best interests at heart. However, at the same time, I may be worried sick about some event that’s on the docket for this week. Suppose when I come into a worship service, I’m reminded of that truth through the singing or the Scripture of the prayer—the sovereignty and goodness of God is reinforced in my thinking. While I’ve had an encounter with truth, I haven’t worshipped until that truth descends from my mind and touches my heart and I pull my affections off the other things I’ve been trusting in and decide I’m going to change the way I handle that issue this week … that I’m going to relax and trust God with that situation. Worship is grasping a truth about God and then letting that truth strike you in the center of your being so that it changes how you feel and act.
And it’s not at all difficult to see, with that understanding of worship, how renewal would follow on the heels of something like that. If every time God impressed us with a truth we acted upon it ... if we applied everything we said we believed about Him ... if there wasn’t a discrepancy between what we say we believe about God and what the evidence of our daily lives suggests... a sense of renewal could not help but be the logical result. For true worship is nothing more than acting upon and tangibly responding to the reality of God in the nuts and bolts activities of our lives. And … it’s something we were made to do. When God’s people do it and do it consistently, they are helping create a setting where renewal can occur.