Worship

“He demands our worship, our obedience, our prostration. Do we suppose that they can do Him any good, or fear, like the chorus in Milton, that human irreverence can bring about “His glory’s diminution”? A man can no more diminish God’s glory by refusing to worship Him than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word “darkness” on the walls of his cell. But God wills our good, and our good is to love Him (with that responsive love proper to creatures) and to love Him we must know Him: and if we know Him, we shall in fact fall on our faces. If we do not, that only shows that what we are trying to love is not yet God—though it may be the nearest approximation to God which our thought and fantasy can attain” (C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain).

As my pastor points out periodically, we worship for an hour or so every week. That leaves 167 other hours during the week. I submit that worship that exists only in the one hour on Sunday but not during the rest of the week is not truly worship.

My Sunday experience flows out of how I worship the rest of the week. I can’t live for myself Monday through Saturday and show up Sunday expecting God’s blessing. I can’t ignore God for six days and then expect Him to speak to me on Sunday.

I read somewhere how Orthodox Jews build their week around the Sabbath. They will spend the first three days reflecting on the past Sabbath and the next three days preparing for the next Sabbath. That makes the Sabbath the focal point of their week rather than just one day out of seven. I like that.

If we made worship the focus of our week, then we could sing those songs of praise on Sunday with meaning. If we really sought to be worshippers not just through music but in how we lived and worked and played, then our worship would truly be a witness to the world and not just a penciled-in part of a church service.

Maybe the best way to worship is to live every moment for an audience of One. If we truly want to worship, we live in a way that magnifies the worth of God. We seek His pleasure and approval in everything we say and do and think and live.

And for me, I confess that I have often looked at worship as something I have to do versus something I get to do. I should never forget that worship flows out of a heart set free, and only someone who has been delivered from death to live, from despair to hope, from slave to son can truly worship because he has something worth celebrating.

Season’s Greetings?

A few years ago, it seemed like everybody was getting bent out of shape over retail workers not saying Merry Christmas to every customer. It was a thing.

Apparently, life was a lot easier then so that there weren’t more pressing issues or more dire problems to deal with other than people who may or may not know about the Christ of Christmas getting the semantics right.

Don’t get me wrong. I love hearing Merry Christmas. I sometimes even remember to say it. Sometimes I just say, “Have a good day” and then walk away wondering why I didn’t say Merry Christmas.

But I do think that believers have been known to expect lost people who don’t have a regenerated heart and mind to act saved when people who are supposed to be the ones who know Jesus are the most obnoxious and rude customers. There’s a reason why people at restaurants hate working on Sunday.

I still think that just possibly instead of expecting to hear Merry Christmas everywhere we go, we should instead exhibit the qualities of the Christ in Christmas. Maybe we need to be a little kinder or a little more patient. Perhaps instead of forcing someone to parrot Merry Christmas, we do our part to make their Christmas a little merrier by how we live out Jesus in front of them.

People might want to know Jesus if they saw Him lived out by the people who profess to know Him. They might want to follow Jesus if they saw a real difference in the lives of those who go to church every Sunday. What turns them off isn’t Jesus, but people who profess Jesus with their lips and deny Him by their lifestyle (thanks to Brennan Manning for that one).

Oh, and don’t get me started on the whole Xmas thing. By the way, you do know that X is also a Greek letter and can be used as an abbreviation for Christ, right? Just checkin’.

The Only Path to Joy

“The greatest blessing God can give us is to put us in a position where we must trust him. This is our only path to joy. He will do whatever is necessary to disrupt our self-sufficiency and illusion of control” (Jim Dennison).

That doesn’t sound like much of a path to joy to me. I can think of a million other ways to joy other than by having my plans thwarted and my comfortable routine altered. In fact, I’d like very much to continue to live under the illusion that I’m in at least a little bit of control over my life.

But what I want isn’t necessarily what’s good for me. If I had the opportunity, I could eat my weight right now in those Reese’s Peanut Butter Pumpkin-shaped thingies. You know what I mean. They’re like the peanut butter cups, only they’re in spooky shapes.

Anyway, as long as I think I’m in control, I will never seek out God. I will continue to do my daily autopilot where I think about God on Sundays but about me for the rest of the week. I will pat myself on the back and think how good I have it made with nary a thank you to God for actually providing everything that’s good in my life.

But when the job goes away, that’s when I have to look up. When there’s a new normal, that’s when I recognize how much I’ve needed God this whole time. I remember that what I really crave beyond all the toys and comforts is what only God can give me — namely, God Himself.

So thank you, God, for all those disruptions. Thanks for shattering my delusions of independence and self-sufficiency into smithereens. Now I can see beyond my own little made-up pretend world to find You there and to find out You’ve been there all along.

Why Go to Church?

I stole this from a Facebook post. It’s not a perfect answer, but I think it does make a point:

A Church goer wrote a letter to the editor of a newspaper and complained that it made no sense to go to church every Sunday.

He wrote: ‘I’ve gone for 30 years now, and in that time I have heard something like 3,000 sermons, but for the life of me, I can’t remember a single one of them. So, I think I’m wasting my time, the preachers and priests are wasting theirs by giving sermons at all.’

This started a real controversy in the ‘Letters to the Editor’ column.

Much to the delight of the editor, it went on for weeks until someone wrote this clincher:

‘I’ve been married for 30 years now. In that time my wife has cooked some 32,000 meals. But, for the life of me, I cannot recall the entire menu for a single one of those meals.

But I do know this: They all nourished me and gave me the strength I needed to do my work. If my wife had not given me these meals, I would be physically dead today.

Likewise, if I had not gone to church for nourishment, I would be spiritually dead today!'”

I get the point of what the author is trying to say, but if hearing sermons at church is the equivalent of eating, then that means those who get all their spiritual knowledge on Sunday are only eating once a week. That’s not enough.

If you don’t have a consistent time of Bible reading and devotion every day, you’re just as spiritually malnourished as you would be physically if you ate one meal at the beginning of the week and didn’t eat again until the next week.

Church is for gathering together to encourage each other. The sermon is part of that. So is the worship. But that can’t be all the spiritual nourishment you get to last you for 7 days.

On the contrary, if you neglect that gathering together on Sunday, you miss out on the benefit of being around God’s people. Also, you’re disobedient to God’s command for believers to gather together. You don’t get that edification and encouragement and (sometimes) gentle reproof.

It’s not an either/or but a both/and. You need Sundays and you need to feed on God’s word every day. We all do.

Looking for the Living Among the Dead

“They were puzzled, wondering what to make of this. Then, out of nowhere it seemed, two men, light cascading over them, stood there. The women were awestruck and bowed down in worship. The men said, ‘Why are you looking for the Living One in a cemetery? He is not here, but raised up'” (Luke 24:5-6, The Message).

I heard an interesting definition of the word amazed that was used in another translation of this passage. Basically, the women had no category for what they’d just witnessed. They had arrived with spices and other essentials needed for finishing up the burial preparations for Jesus, only to find no Jesus.

Sure, they had seen Jesus raise other people from the dead. They had also heard Jesus’ own words about being handed over to sinful men, crucified, and being raised again. But those words seemed hollow against the reality of Jesus being dead.

Easter is nothing without a physical resurrection. If Jesus is only alive in our hearts, we might as well give up on the whole church thing and do whatever we want and live however we feel like. If Jesus is actually still in that tomb, then there’s no real hope and no real future.

So many other religions claim to offer a way of life and salvation, but all their leaders are truly dead and buried. Only Christianity can offer eyewitness accounts to a risen and living Lord. Only Christianity has a God who knows the way out of the grave.

That’s why Jesus could truthfully proclaim that He was the only way, truth, and life, and that we could only come to the Father through Him. He’s the only one still living to show us the way — to be the way. He’s the only one who actually took our place and paid for our sins.

The resurrection is the final validation of the truth of Jesus’ life and words. Based on what He said, He couldn’t just be a good man or a wise teacher. He’d have to be a liar, a lunatic, or Lord. Those are the only options.

The empty tomb and the risen Jesus show that He is Lord of all.

Holy Saturday Hope

“O God, Creator of heaven and earth: Grant that, as the crucified body of your dear Son was laid in the tomb and rested on this holy Sabbath, so we may await with him the coming of the third day, and rise with him to newness of life; who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen” (from The Book of Common Prayer).

I don’t think I’ve ever participated in any kind of church service centered around Holy Saturday. Typically, every church I’ve ever attended makes a really big deal about Easter Sunday (and with good reason). More recently, I’ve seen some Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services.

But nothing for Holy Saturday.

Maybe that’s because there really isn’t much to celebrate or commemorate. At this point, Jesus is dead and in the tomb. The disciples are scared to death, grief-stricken, and hiding out. There is nothing in Scripture about anything happening on this day at all.

But we as believers with the gift of history and hindsight know what’s coming. We know that the worst moment in history is about to give way to the greatest. From absolute despair and sadness will come overwhelming amazement and joy.

In the Jewish culture of Jesus’ day, Saturday was a day of rest. So possibly it’s good not to have yet another service in an already packed holy week. Perhaps we need to take time to meditate and reflect on what has happened up to this point and what is yet to come.

On Holy Saturday, we learn once more how to wait well.

It’s Friday But Sunday’s Comin’!

I can’t remember a lot of what I’ve done in the last week or so, but I can still remember a sermon from Tony Campolo that I heard when I was a student at Union University way back in the early 90s. It was close to Easter that year, and I seem to remember we were getting ready to go on our spring break.

I remember the sermon was based on the text by an old black preacher named S. M. Lockridge with the refrain of “It’s Friday . . . but Sunday’s comin’!”

The gist is that Friday was when everything looked hopeless. Jesus was dead and buried. The Pharisees and other religious leaders were celebrating. The disciples were crushed and defeated. But Sunday and the empty tomb were just ahead, unbeknownst to those who were witnesses to the events on Friday.

Here’s the text from the original sermon that set my world on fire:

“It’s Friday. Jesus is arrested in the garden where He was praying. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. The disciples are hiding and Peter’s denying that he knows the Lord. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is standing before the high priest of Israel, silent as a lamb before the slaughter. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is beaten, mocked, and spit upon. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Those Roman soldiers are flogging our Lord with a leather scourge that has bits of bones and glass and metal, tearing at his flesh. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. The Son of man stands firm as they press the crown of thorns down into his brow. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. See Him walking to Calvary, the blood dripping from His body. See the cross crashing down on His back as He stumbles beneath the load. It’s Friday; but Sunday’s a coming.

It’s Friday. See those Roman soldiers driving the nails into the feet and hands of my Lord. Hear my Jesus cry, “Father, forgive them.” It’s Friday; but Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is hanging on the cross, bloody and dying. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. The sky grows dark, the earth begins to tremble, and He who knew no sin became sin for us. Holy God, who will not abide with sin, pours out His wrath on that perfect sacrificial lamb who cries out, “My God, My God. Why hast thou forsaken me?” What a horrible cry. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. And at the moment of Jesus’ death, the veil of the Temple that separates sinful man from Holy God was torn from the top to the bottom because Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is hanging on the cross, heaven is weeping and hell is partying. But that’s because it’s Friday, and they don’t know it, but Sunday’s a coming.

And on that horrible day 2,000 years ago, Jesus the Christ, the Lord of glory, the only begotten Son of God, the only perfect man, died on the cross of Calvary. Satan thought that he had won the victory. Surely he had destroyed the Son of God. Finally he had disproved the prophecy God had uttered in the Garden and the one who was to crush his head had been destroyed. But that was Friday.

Now it’s Sunday. And just about dawn on that first day of the week, there was a great earthquake. But that wasn’t the only thing that was shaking, because now it’s Sunday.

And the angel of the Lord is coming down out of heaven and rolling the stone away from the door of the tomb.

Yes, it’s Sunday, and the angel of the Lord is sitting on that stone. And the guards posted at the tomb to keep the body from disappearing were shaking in their boots, because it’s Sunday. And the lamb that was silent before the slaughter is now the resurrected lion from the tribe of Judah, for He is not here, the angel says. He is risen indeed.

It’s Sunday, and the crucified and resurrected Christ has defeated death, hell, sin, and the grave. It’s Sunday. And now everything has changed. It’s the age of grace, God’s grace poured out on all who would look to that crucified lamb of Calvary. Grace freely given to all who would believe that Jesus Christ died on the cross of Calvary was buried and rose again. All because it’s Sunday.

It’s Friiidaaaay!

But Sunday’s coming!” (S. M. Lockridge, With Thanks to Dr. Michael G. Davis for the text version).

Silent Wednesday

I learned something new today. Apparently, today is significant in holy week. This is Silent Wednesday, preceding Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. From what I understand, there’s no recorded activity from this day in any of the gospels.

In my own life, I’ve learned that silence can be good. I need a break periodically from the noise. I need to create margins to hear God’s voice, and rarely will God talk over the other voices that demand my attention throughout the day.

But what if the silence is from God? What if I don’t hear anything when I listen for His voice? What then?

Do I trust in God? Do I lean into everything I’ve learned about God’s nature and character and activity up to this point? Do I choose to believe what I know about God instead of what I think or what I feel?

I see that throughout the gospels, Jesus told the disciples exactly what was about to happen. He explicitly told them all of what He was about to undergo and how it would be the end of His life. But He also said that He would rise again in three days.

But the disciples understood none of it. They didn’t get it.

Maybe the silence of God is for my benefit. Maybe I’m not ready to receive the next revelation or to know the next part of God’s plan. Maybe God is waiting on me to obey what I already know before He reveals more.

We get the benefit of history, so we know what’s coming next. Tomorrow is the day Jesus was betrayed by one of His own and handed over to the Jewish leaders. Friday is when they and the Romans put Him up on the cross with the intent to kill Him slowly. But also we know that no one took Jesus’ life from Him, but He willingly gave it up for us that we might live.

So today we remember. We reflect. We rest in the promise not only of the cross but also of the empty tomb. We can trust in a silent God. On a cellar wall in Cologne, Germany, Jews who were hiding from the Nazis wrote these words: ““I believe in the sun even when it is not shining. I believe in love even when feeling it not. I believe in God even when he is silent.”

Fourth Sunday of Lent Eve

“Gracious Father, whose blessed Son Jesus Christ came down from heaven to be the true bread which gives life to the world: Evermore give us this bread, that he may live in us, and we in him; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen” (Book of Common Prayer).

In case you were as much in need of a reminder as I am, here it is. Tomorrow is the fourth Sunday of Lent leading toward Easter Sunday.

It’s not about cute little bunnies or chocolate. It’s about the fact that Jesus walked out of the garden tomb on that Sunday so long ago to show the world that sin, death, and hell were forever defeated.

I love what Peter Marshall said about the tomb being rolled away not so that Jesus could get out but so the disciples could get in.

My prayer for all of us is that we are reminded that we still need the hope of Easter now as when we first believed and as much as the first disciples needed it. May we live out the hope as those who fight not for victory but from it.

“I imagine Lent for you and for me as a great departure from the greedy, anxious antineighborliness of our economy, a great departure from our exclusionary politics that fears the other, a great departure from self-indulgent consumerism that devours creation. And then an arrival in a new neighborhood, because it is a gift to be simple, it is a gift to be free; it is a gift to come down where we ought to be” (Walter BrueggemannA Way Other Than Our Own: Devotions for Lent).

“No act of virtue can be great if it is not followed by advantage for others. So, no matter how much time you spend fasting, no matter how much you sleep on a hard floor and eat ashes and sigh continually, if you do no good to others, you do nothing great” (John Chrysostom)

A Good Sunday

It was a good Sunday for several reasons. I thought I’d share a few of them with you:

  1. I woke up this morning, so that automatically makes it a good day.
  2. I managed to get through both services without messing up the worship lyrics or the video of the baptisms. It can be a bit stressful at times, but it is worth it to experience worship in a whole new way.
  3. I had a fantastic Greek omelet at Athens Family Restaurant.
  4. I picked up a classic Lucinda Williams album at Grimeys Too.
  5. While it wasn’t the ideal fall weather that I love, it wasn’t 95 degrees with 95% humidity. Gotta take what you can get here in the great state of Tennessee.
  6. I’m still breathing and my heart is still beating as I’m typing these words.
  7. I experienced more foodie goodness at Local Taco.
  8. Obviously, I didn’t go hungry today.
  9. I’m still saved by grace, and that’s nothing I can brag about. God did it all.
  10. I have one sleeping geriatric teenage feline on the pillow next to mine right now and that makes just about any situation better.
  11. I have a good job to wake up early and go to in the morning that pays the bills and challenges me and allows me to help people (even if it’s in a more indirect way).
  12. I have a comfy bed to sleep in and a solid roof over my head tonight.
  13. See #9 again if you still doubt the goodness of this Sunday.

That hardly begins to cover why this was a good day for me. If I took the time to write all the reasons down, I’d most likely be up all night, and that would likely make Monday not such a good day.

So, lucky 13 will have to do for now. See you all tomorrow evening with something (hopefully) fresh and inspired.