Thinking about worship

I treasure my friends who ask good questions and then tolerate (enjoy?) listening to me think out loud. When two of us start talking we always seem to end up with more substantial thoughts than I ever would independently.

Over chess last night, late last night, and after listening to a sermon from a mutual friend of ours my friend asked me in response "How do you define 'authentic worship'?"

And so we started talking.

I initially started talking around notions of worship in spirit and in truth. Worship is an experience that communicates the reality of God's nature and identify and the status of our relationship to Him. But additionally I think it needs to be an experience that translates that truth into a spirit of reality, in a visceral way. Worship should bring worshipers to a place where God's transcendent glory is communicated and his immanent presence is felt.

Clearly this can be accomplished many ways. Yes, singing is good (and ubiquitous). There is a place for corporate, responsive reading, worship through action (the partaking of the Lord's Supper and sharing the service of foot washing immediately come to mind), worship through dance and art and countless other experiences.

Earlier this fall I heard Ben Pasley speak at a conference. At some time He was asked to summarize the gospel as concisely as possible. Here was his answer:

I am broken
God is near
There must be a way for me


I think that little outline provides a simple and profound foundation for jumpstarting thoughts about worship content and direction.

We live in a broken world and it does us good to acknowledge that fact. Songs and stories of lament must be shared. In fact, I would argue that simply stating the emotional and physical ramifications of the brokenness in this world would communicate an empathy to nonbelievers that is sorely lacking in many churches today. We need to cry out to God about our broken families, our dying dreams, our longing for even a drop of His water.

But as so many of the Psalms illustrate, there is a terribly critical little word in play. Yet... I am indeed broken and yet, God is still near. God is here today, in the midst of this dirty, grimy world of ours. Stating and worshiping this fact does not need to mean that we always feel that way. But we claim in faith the reality of God's presence not in spite of our feelings and reality of brokenness but alongside that reality of brokenness.

And yes, God's story is a story of redemption. There must be, and in fact is, a way for us. That triumphant realization does not and cannot be made to read that all of our troubles today will magically disappear. But there is a way and a future in God's plans that release us from this broken world. The promise of heaven is beautiful and weighty and we should not short sell it.

In the end, in my life my most profound moments of worship are those that lead me to a place of reverence and humility. These invariably end up as quiet times of mumbled prayer in the midst of what is assuredly a much noisier worship environment. And yet in my life I have had glimpses of true worship break through everyday life. Oftentimes this occurs when I break out of my concrete life and notice the abundant nature around me: walking through the woods of my college campus in the autumn, suddenly admiring anew the bright, crystalline mountains in the middle of a ski run, or simply being undone by the infinite shades of red, yellow and brown in the pile of leaves that I am raking in my front yard.

These are everyday moments of reverence and humility. And I'm not sure that they could ever be programmed through song selection.

I do wonder how individual personality and nature factor into the worship equation. I am introverted by nature and when I experience God I naturally turn inward. But I am not convinced that it is fair to expect everyone to experience that same reality. So I think some space and freedom needs to be given to people who are more outward in nature. How does emotional experience affect worship? How does giftedness come into play in regards to what people have to offer in worship (if a worship experience is to be participatory then a person's proclivities become particularly important).

Once those questions are raised I think it becomes an issue of allowing your context and your community guide your worship plans. In particular I think about my little house church. We are good at sharing teaching, and prayer, and fellowship. But I'd like to see my little group try to incorporate more focused worship experiences into our time together.

But when I look at this circle of people around me I don't think that having someone play the guitar while we sing Amazing Grace or Kumbuyah is really going to connect (namely because I don't think anyone in our group plays guitar). So hopefully in the coming year we can experiment. I wonder what it would be like to focus some of our time not so much on discussing scripture but simply reading it aloud while the rest of us meditate on that? I wonder how we'd respond to responsive reading, or more liturgical types of experiences? I can't say how successful that would be but hopefully we can glean some ideas and feedback, experiment and play and find some things that work.

How will we know if it works? Well, I go back to my initial assertion. Do we feel that the reality of God's Truth was communicated? And did we experience the Spirit and presence of that reality? Not everyone will have the same reaction to the same methods. That's OK. I expect that. But hopefully we can identify some things that work more or less consistently in the midst of our little family.

I'll keep you posted.