One of the tasks of a first-year associate pastor, I learned quickly, is doing the tasks that need to be done but no one wants to do. In my first church appointment after seminary I found myself in that position. The senior pastor was concerned that our membership roll was much higher than our Sunday attendance numbers, which meant that a lot of people were considered members of the church even though they had not attended in a long time. I was assigned the task of calling on each “member” who had not worshiped in the church for three or more years. I took the membership roll, went to my office and began making phone calls. Some of the people had moved away; others had died. I asked if I could visit those who were still in town. Out of one hundred calls, only four showed any interest in a visit from me. Out of those four, two families returned to the church, and one decided to join another church.
The fourth call affected me the most: a divorced mother of grown children. She said little in our brief conversation but said she would love to have me over for tea. She took the initiative by asking me a lot of questions about my personal spiritual life. Eventually I asked her similar questions, and she became very animated. “Well, my relationship with God is everything to me. I spend an hour each morning in meditation and prayer, and an hour before bed doing the same. Would you like to see where I pray?” she asked. She took me to a special room in her home. The walls were covered in religious imagery—crosses, icons and paintings of religious figures. In the corner was a kind of altar or shrine with a kneeling bench. Beaming, she said, “This is where I connect to God.”
Have you ever encountered someone who refused to worship corporately? What did you say to them then? What would you say to them now?
We resumed our conversation back in the living room over a second cup of tea. Eventually I asked, “I was wondering, will we be seeing you in worship one of these Sundays?” She replied quickly, “Oh no, church is not for me. I have all I need here in my prayer room. I get too discouraged by corporate worship. I am fine. But thank you for inviting me. I suppose you should take me off of the membership roll.” I stammered for a moment, searching for something wise to say, but all I could think of was, “Are you sure you don’t want to come back?” Again she responded politely, “No thank you, Reverend. As I said, I have all I need right here. But thank you for coming and visiting with me. I liked hearing about your own journey into God.”
As I drove back to the church I was profoundly discouraged. I had spent years training for ministry in the local church, and yet I had no response when a person told me that she had no need for the church, that she was just fine without it. I wondered, Could she be right? Can a Christian live without a worshiping community? I had no answer because I had some false narratives of my own concerning the church and corporate worship.
False and True Narratives About Worship
The woman who worshiped privately in her home impressed me. She was dedicated, she was engaged, and the way she worshiped God seemed to have a positive impact on her life. As an introverted contemplative I completely understood how that kind of worship could be meaningful and transforming. My own experience affirmed this. For many years I began each morning with an hour or more of solitude, prayer, silence, Bible reading and journaling—complete with candles. These were rich hours for me, and they deepened my relationship with God. I also understood her reluctance to take part in corporate worship. In church I often found it distracting and difficult to focus on God. To this day I would affirm her private practice of daily worship. However, I would also encourage her to engage in public worship with a community of believers. Let me explain why.
She, like me for many years, was living by an incomplete narrative.
False narrative: Worship is a personal matter meant to inspire the individual. For her, worship is merely private, and its aim is to create an emotional sensation. Everything she needs is found in her solitary room. While we can (and should) worship privately, and we can (and should) experience inspiration, that is not the primary reason for corporate worship; it is not about individual inspiration but rather the transformation of the person within, by and for the community.
People say, “I go to church to get inspired.” I think this can be a noble, even godly, desire. We are hungering for a deeper life with God, and our time in worship can be a way to make us feel connected. Looking forward to that is no sin. But I am concerned when this personal, individual need eclipses the need to take part in something bigger than the individual, which may or may not feel good to us. While church need not be boring, it is also not designed merely to give us good feelings. Too often the church tries to compete with secular forms of entertainment, and too often this leads to pale imitations (e.g., top ten lists from the pulpit). While inspiration is a byproduct of worship, it is not the central aim of worship.
True narrative: Worship is a communal activity meant to instruct a people. From our roots in Judaism to the earliest expression in the ecclesia of Christ, worship has always been a corporate activity. We worship because we are a peculiar people whose roots are in the future. We tell our stories, learn our language and find our life in the presence of other Christ-followers. We go to church not to be entertained but to be trained. The church is the only place where we hear the true story of who God is, who we are and what our lives are all about.
In thinking back to chapter seven, do you see how you bless others and how others bless you? how corporately you function as a body for the building up of one another? Share your thoughts with your community.
Another false narrative is the opposite of the first, but it can be equally destructive.
False narrative: Worship is an obligation we owe to God. A common narrative is that we are obliged to worship God. It is used to motivate people to go to church. In truth, God does not need our worship. God is perfectly fine without it, but we need to worship. When we worship we are aligned with the truth, and our souls function well when immersed in the truth.
True narrative: Worship is an invitation given by God. Far from an obligation, worship is an invitation from a gracious God. Worship is our response to what God has done and is doing. Worship is an invitation from a gracious God who bids us to come and enjoy his beauty and goodness. The psalmist writes,
For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere.
I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than live in the tents of wickedness. (Psalm 84:10)
Worship, including the practices that make it up, is a powerful means of forming God’s people through its unique language and practices.
Worship is a gift, a blessing and something we long for once we have truly experienced it. Alfred North Whitehead famously said, “Religion is what an individual does with his solitariness.” I suppose that is my chief problem with this false narrative: it is a religious practice. Christianity is not a religion but the formation of a people through the gospel—the good news that God in Christ has reconciled the world. Religion is the human search for God; Christianity is God’s search for humans. We do not worship so much as we respond. “Through Christ in the Spirit we respond to the Father’s love. This is the ground-pattern of Christian worship.”
Looking Beyond Aesthetics
The day I visited the woman who worshiped privately was painful because I did not know how to respond to her. It was years later that I read the words of C. S. Lewis, who provided an excellent answer. To a friend he wrote:
When I first became a Christian, about fourteen years ago, I thought that I could do it on my own, by retiring to my rooms and reading theology, and I wouldn’t go to churches and Gospel Halls; . . . I disliked very much their hymns, which I considered fifth-rate poems set to sixth-rate music. But as I went on I saw the great merit of it. I came up against different people of quite different outlooks and different education, and then gradually my conceit just began peeling off. I realized that the hymns (which were just sixth-rate music) were, nonetheless, being sung with devotion and benefit by an old saint in elastic boots in the opposite pew, and then you realize that you aren’t fit to clean those boots. It gets you out of your solitary conceit.
We can learn much from Lewis’s insights. First, Lewis thought he could live the Christian life by reading theology books alone in his room. He later learned this does not suffice.
What do you connect to from your own experience in Lewis’s perspective on the church?
Second, the music paled in comparison to the great composers. Later, though, Lewis was able to penetrate beneath the surface and into the heart of the worshiper, who is not moved by the aesthetic performance but by the pulsing love of God. When he looked at the “old saint in elastic boots,” who at one time he judged as unsophisticated, he saw someone he was not worthy of, for this old saint’s passion and devotion to God connect him or her to the sacred.
Solitary conceit, Lewis says, kept him from the gathered people of God. It was solitary because he thought he could do it alone, and conceit because he thought Christian worship not worthy of his appreciation. But when God stepped in and taught him a new narrative, Lewis was able to see the invaluable worth of corporate worship. We would do well to remember this. We need each other, despite our differences. Worship is not about the quality of the performance but the heart of those who worship. Worship is not about “individual fulfillment” but the “constitution of a people.”
Worship Can Be Boring
A people group is missing in our churches. They are a very specific group, at least in terms of age. They are the eighteen- to twenty-nine-year-olds. Some church experts call these “the missing years.” Once young people turn eighteen, they typically stop going to church. We see them return, like the swallows of Capistrano, twelve years later, often because they are married and have had their first child, and church seems like the right thing to do. But why do they leave at eighteen? As the parent of a seventeen-year-old who has grown up in the church, I thought it would be good for me to find out what he thinks about church worship. We sat down one Saturday afternoon and had a discussion about his likes and dislikes of Sunday worship.
“What do you like about church, Jake?” I asked.
“The sermons sometimes are my favorite part,” he answered. “Not all of them, just the ones I can relate to, the encouraging ones.”
“What is your least favorite part?” I followed up by asking.
“I don’t like singing. Well, I like listening to people sing, but not singing out loud with others. It doesn’t seem important.”
“All singing?”
“No, I do like hymns. I just have a hard time relating God to a rock band—I can’t see Jesus playing lead guitar. I liked those times we went to the Orthodox service—the chanting sounded cool. But the service was too long, and I didn’t like standing the whole time. I’m not a big stander,” he answered.
“What other parts of worship do you enjoy, or get something out of?” I asked.
“I like praying. But sometimes the pastors pray too long. I also like hearing the Bible read, or reading it out loud together. I also like when we say the Apostles’ Creed, because we learned it together,” he said.
“What about the things we do as a group, like baptizing people or taking Communion?”
Reflectively journal on what you like about worshiping in your community. What draws you closer? What would you prefer to change? What can you learn from those things you’d change?
“Seeing someone get baptized is fine. I like that. I also like Communion a lot—but I wish we had real bread rather than wafers. They taste kind of bad.”
“You yourself were baptized in the same church we still attend. You have grown up with this community. What do you think of when you think about the people?” I asked.
“Our church has grown a lot, so I don’t know everyone, but seeing people who know me, who say, ‘Jacob, I remember you when you were five years old running down the aisle’ is kind of nice. I like the older people; they are the nicest.”
I learned a lot in this short conversation. I was surprised to hear Jake likes hymns, and even more surprised he does not like the band. In my generation we rejected the hymns and loved having electric guitars in worship. Perhaps something is shifting, or maybe it is just him. I found it interesting that Jake enjoys the parts that are the least like the world he normally lives in. No one says the creeds, preaches about Jesus or partakes of Communion in day-to-day life outside of the church. I will hang on to this should he, like so many, take a twelve-year sabbatical from corporate worship.
I can hear some people saying, “You should make him go to church, even when he is eighteen.” That goes against my entire understanding of the nature of the kingdom of God and of the human heart. I will trust in the goodness of God, who has made himself known to Jake through the years. Those sermons did not fall on bad soil. Those times of taking Communion, of listening to the Bible, of praying with people will not go to waste. Instead of making him stay connected to church, I might try to get him to read the following section of this chapter. Instead of making people feel guilty about not going to church, I would rather try to make people excited about the opportunity, which can only happen when we really understand what worship is all about.
Worship Is Worth It
Let’s take a closer look at the practices of worship, which will help us overcome the false narratives of self-fulfillment or divine obligation, and move us to long to be in the house of God.
The earliest Christians came from Jewish backgrounds. They modified the worship practices of Judaism in light of their newfound faith. Over the centuries Christian worship has been shaped into a cohesive form. Though some people believe we should imitate the practices of the early Christians, I believe that the shaping of worship through the centuries is a sign of God’s movement among his people.
The New Testament does not offer a set form of worship to be followed by all Christians for all ages. There is great freedom when it comes to forms of worship. In fact, through the centuries worship styles and practices have been modified to help connect the truths of the faith to new generations. Chants became hymns, and hymns became praise choruses, for example.
Though the form of worship is not the main focus, this does not mean form is unimportant. Form matters. There are basic elements of Christian worship that have been found useful in the development of our relationship with God and others. Though not all Christian groups engage in all of these elements of worship, many groups use some or all of these practices consistently in their gatherings. We will look at each of these briefly in order to explain how they form us spiritually. I will write the following as if I were writing to my son to explain why worship is worth it.
A Letter to My Son on What Is Great About Worship
Dear Jacob,
Even though you grew up going to church each Sunday, there will come a day when you will choose whether to go to church. Your mother and I will not make you go, and we will try hard not to make you feel guilty if you choose not to. But I would like you to consider thinking a little bit about what we do in worship, things that I believe you will need to live a full and joyful life. I know that church can be as boring as watching paint dry, and I have often cringed when someone implies that heaven will be an unending worship service. God forbid. But I do believe that our gathered worship is special, sacred and necessary. Let me explain why by talking about the common elements of Christian worship.
Greeting. One of the first things we do when we gather is greet one another. The early Christians did this with a “holy kiss,” but that was dropped for obvious reasons. What is important about greeting is simply acknowledging each other’s presence. We all hunger to know and be known; as the old TV show Cheers said, we all want to go to a place where everybody knows our name. The world can be pretty cold and ruthless. It is a dog-eat-dog world outside of the kingdom of God. So it feels great to go to a place that seems to really want you—the smiling guy at the door, the nice lady who offers you coffee. No matter what state or country you are in, if you go to Christian worship, someone will greet you, and you will feel as if you are home. Which, of course, you are.
Confession and forgiveness. Despite your best effort, you will fail to lead a perfect life, and in time, Jake, you will blow it and will need a place to deal with your feelings. If we are honest with God and ourselves, we need a time and a place to confess our failure. Some communities do this formally, using written prayers led by a pastor or said in unison: “Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone.” This practice is then followed by a leader who offers words of assurance: “Hear the good news: Christ died for us while we were yet sinners; that proves God’s love toward us. In the name of Jesus Christ, we are forgiven! Amen!” Some groups do this informally, allowing a time of silent reflection. Either way, the practice helps keep us honest, shapes our desire to walk in holiness and allows another apprentice to speak words of comfort. Sin does not get the last word; forgiveness is the last word. Forgiveness is something you will desperately need to experience.
Creeds, commandments and the Lord’s Prayer. The early Christians developed creeds (from the Latin credo, meaning, “This I believe”) as a way of explaining the metanarrative in a shortened form. From the Apostles’ Creed to the Nicene Creed, Christ-followers have recited these highly charged words as a means of keeping their beliefs ever before them, and as a way of denying heretical beliefs. The reciting of the creeds establishes us as Christians and connects us to the body of Christ through the ages. Though not all communities recite the creeds, for many it is a way to tell the story of our faith in a way that all can understand it. The Lord’s Prayer and the Ten Commandments can also be used in this way.
You learned these when you were young. We placed the Ten Commandments, the Lord’s Prayer and the Apostles’ Creed above your bed. You have kept them there ever since then, which impressed me. Each night when you were young we would say them together and talk about their meaning. You memorized the Ten Commandments first. We would talk about what it means to have other gods before God, what the sabbath is all about and why we should not bear false witness. We did the same with the Lord’s Prayer and the Apostles’ Creed. The idea certainly was not mine! These are the basis of the Christian catechism (Protestant and Catholic) dating back hundreds of years. They are statements that the church is founded on. In a world that will tell you right and wrong are subjective, and that belief is only a personal matter, they offer solid answers.
Scripture and sermon. Your life is a story. Worshiping communities read the Bible in worship and preach sermons as a means of telling our story, which is your story, the story into which you were baptized. Our whole church pledged to raise you in the Christian faith, the story that binds us all together.
Some communities hear the Word in the context of the sermon, which can serve as an explanation and application of the text. The Bible is our common text; it unites us. Preaching, particularly when it springs from the Scriptures, proclaims the great truths of our faith and is a means of grace whereby God comforts or convicts—and sometimes elevates—his people.
In my life I have witnessed several occasions when a preacher became infused with the power of the Spirit in such a way that all I could do was sit in awe. My friend and colleague Bill Vaswig is the finest preacher I have ever heard. There have been times when he has lifted my heart and mind to places I have only dreamed of. No wonder the Bible proclaims, “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!” (Romans 10:15; Isaiah 52:7).
I hope you remember to give thanks for those in our midst who come with beautiful feet. There is no other place on earth that can tell you your story.
Communion or the Lord’s Supper. We read in Acts that the first Christians shared a meal when they gathered together: “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers” (Acts 2:42). By the time Paul had established churches among the Gentiles, what we know as the Lord’s Supper was a standard part of worship (1 Corinthians 11:23-26). The meal became a reminder of the death of Jesus and all of its blessed implications. In fact, the act of Communion symbolizes all that I love about Christian community.
First, the meal reminded them that they were an eternal community because of their participation in the eternal Christ (1 Corinthians 10:16). The bread and the cup became a way to “set [their] minds on things that are above” because they too had died, and their life was now hidden with Christ in God (Colossians 3:1-4). The miracle of co-crucifixion and co-resurrection was experienced in the bread and the cup—representing the body and blood of Jesus.
Second, the people practiced being an unselfish and generous community. The Lord’s Supper reminded them to make sure everyone had enough to eat and drink. When they failed to do this (some ate and drank too much) Paul scolded them (1 Corinthians 11:20-22, 33-34). This, by the way, is what Paul meant by taking Communion in an “unworthy manner” (1 Corinthians 11:27), and not, as many suppose, taking the Lord’s Supper with unconfessed sin.
Third, the meal demonstrated that they were a unified community. Paul used the metaphor of the loaf to remind them that they were one body: “Because there is one loaf, we, who are many, are one body, for we all partake of the one loaf” (1 Corinthians 10:17 niv). Though they were diverse (Jew and Gentile, male and female, slave and free) they were one in Christ, symbolized by the one loaf of which they all partook. The common bread and common cup reminded them of their common life.
Fourth, the cup reminded them that they were a reconciling community. Jesus said, “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (Matthew 26:28). The meal was a reminder of their forgiveness, making it both possible and necessary to forgive one another. Having Christ dwell in them through this meal also reminded them that they were a holy community, set apart to do good works. A simple meal of bread and wine told their story and reminded them of who they were and who they were called to be. Ordinary elements such as bread and wine—which are created by God—are lifted up into something new.
There is a lot of debate, even fighting and schism, over what the bread and the cup actually are or symbolize. It is ironic that the meal that was meant to unite so often has divided us. No matter where you end up worshiping, I hope you grow to appreciate this ancient Christian practice.
Singing. I know that singing is not your favorite part of worship, but it is important. In addition to the breaking of bread, the early Christians also sang:
Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. (Colossians 3:16)
Sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts. (Ephesians 5:19)
Throughout the history of the church, singing has been an important and life-giving practice. Through song we tell our story, offer praise and experience the joy that can only come through music. God designed us in such a way that sound and rhythm inspire and motivate us. Music touches us at an emotional and bodily level, and when it is used to offer praise to God, it connects us to the Trinity and each other in ways that teaching and preaching cannot. Singing involves our whole bodies—stomachs, tongues, lungs and even hands as we clap or raise our hands in the air. In this sense worship is a holistic practice.
Silence. We live in a noisy world, and if your soul is going to experience rest or make a connection with God, you will need some spaces for silence. Many churches allow silence to live and breathe, which is something I love. We can only sense the leading of the Spirit when we are still. We get so little silence in our world, and we desperately need it for the well-being of our souls. Silence in worship is another sign of peculiarity. Silence, or at least pausing for a few moments of reflection, is the only way we can let the Word of God sink into our hearts and minds. I hope you one day find a church that values silence.
Offering gifts. When you were little, we let you put the family offering envelope, and sometimes your own change, into the offering plate. Some people think money has no place in worship. But it does. Giving is itself an act of worship. This is not a way of paying for admission but of offering our gifts to God. The world tells us to look out for ourselves. Offering our gifts helps us let go of the need to store up treasures for ourselves. I hope you learn the joy of giving, and the truth that what we give to advance the work of the kingdom is never lost.
Benediction or sending forth. Often the final act of worship is an official sending forth. It is often called a benediction. The pastor or leader usually offers parting words that encourage the congregation to go forth with the blessing of God. “The Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace,” for example. This reminds us that we are to be light to a darkened world. As we were summoned to worship, now we are sent into the world.
As a father whose life has been transformed by Jesus, there is nothing more I want for you. I want it more than I want you to have success or fame. I would love to hear one day, “Hey, Dad, I got this great job, and I really love it. They pay me well.” But I would love even more to hear you say, “Hey, Dad, I found this great church. The people are loving, and the sermons challenge and inspire me. Worship is a source of strength for me, and it is shaping my entire life. Thanks for raising me in church.” Oh what a happy day that will be.
A Glimpse of Eternity in the Ordinary
In his masterful novel Jayber Crow, Wendell Berry tells the story of a man who renounces his call to become a minister and instead becomes a barber. Still, Jayber never abandons his love for the church. One day, while sweeping the empty church he has grown up in, he has a dream that helps him see the eternal dimension of the church as it worships. Alexander Schmemann said worship is the epiphany of the world. In the eyes of Jayber Crow, the church in all of its earthy, human, broken and prideful forms was seen from the perspective of eternity.
One day when I went up there to work, sleepiness overcame me and I lay down on the floor behind the back pew to take a nap. Waking or sleeping (I couldn’t tell which), I saw all the people gathered there who had ever been there. I saw them as I had seen them from the back pew, where I sat with Uncle Othy (who would not come any farther) while Aunt Cordie sang in the choir, and I saw them as I had seen them (from the back pew) on the Sunday before. I saw them in all the times past and to come, all somehow there in their own time and in all time and in no time: the cheerfully working and singing women, the men quiet or reluctant or shy, the weary, the troubled in spirit, the sick, the lame, the desperate, the dying, the little children tucked in the pews beside their elders, the young married couples full of visions, the old men with their dreams, the parents of their proud children, the grandparents with tears in their eyes, the pairs of young lovers attentive only to each other on the edge of the world, the grieving widows and widowers, the mothers and fathers of children newly dead, the proud, the humble, the attentive, the distracted—I saw them all. I saw the creases crisscrossed in the backs of men’s necks, their work-thickened hands, the Sunday dresses faded with washing. They were just there. They said nothing, and I said nothing. I seemed to love them all with a love that was mine merely because it included me. When I came to myself again, my face was wet with tears.
I love this story because it reminds me that the church is both earthy (reluctant, troubled, distracted people) and yet eternal. I started this chapter by asking, Can we live the Christian life without a worshiping community? I would answer, Yes, it is possible—all things are possible with God. But the better question is, Why would we even want to try?
Soul Training Worship
The exercise for this week is to go to church with what Richard Foster calls “holy expectancy.” For many of us, attending church is fraught with frustration and distraction: “We are running late—hurry up!” or “Oh no, someone is sitting in my seat” or “I can’t believe she wore that!” or “The sermon was way too long today.” In this chapter I have tried to focus on the right narratives about worship: it is an invitation (not an obligation) and is not about meeting my needs as much as shaping my soul. We also looked at some of the basic elements of worship, focusing on their meaning and impact.
For this reason, I would like you to make your corporate worship more meaningful by engaging in a few acts of preparation. The following are some guidelines, not laws, that may be helpful as you seek to experience the wonder of worship.
Engaging in Meaningful worship
1. Prepare through margin. Simply getting to worship with the right attitude is a challenge for many of us. The culprit is not our lack of desire but our lack of temporal margin. The proper attitude for worship cannot be cultivated in the ten seconds we spend walking through the narthex. We must prepare for worship long before that. One way is to go to bed early on the evening before worship. This will allow us to awaken earlier, which will create some margin in terms of time. We need a few hours to eat and dress and prepare our hearts for worship. Time margin is thus necessary in order to create heart margin.
2. Arrive early. A simple but effective way for me to be more attentive in worship is to come well before the service begins in order to become fully present. Richard Foster offers this advice: “Enter the service ten minutes early. Lift your heart in adoration to the King of glory.” This has helped me appreciate worship and has reduced the distractions that often happen when I arrive late.
3. Come with holy expectancy. As previously noted, Foster encourages a sense of holy expectancy among worshipers. This can be done by a simple prayer: “Spirit, speak to me. Jesus, teach me. Father, let me experience your love and power.” I believe this is a prayer God loves to answer. And it is a prayer that awakens our desire.
4. Focus on one aspect of worship this week. There are many acts within a worship service (e.g., sermon, Bible reading, singing, Communion). This week focus on one particular element of worship. For example, if you choose singing, pay attention to your body, to the sounds and to the words being sung. Reflect on its meaning—why do we sing? What is happening to us as a community as we sing? You can pick a different aspect each week. If you do this each week, over the course of a few months you will have reflected on nearly every aspect of worship, thus enabling an entire worship service to become an act of doxology.
5. Apply one thing. Worship transforms us and leads us into new ways of living. Foster wisely writes, “Just as worship begins in holy expectancy it ends in holy obedience.” This week pay attention to what God might be asking you to do. Is there someone you need to speak with? A change you need to make? A new practice you need to make as you walk with God? Keep it simple and try to discern what one thing God may be asking of you, and then labor to put it into practice this week.
