Worship

     Adoration services are underway at 9:00PM on Tuesdays. This service consists of an hour of singing, prayer, preaching, meditation, Communion, ministry to those with needs, and fellowship. It’s completely understandable that many at Hopwood have only heard tales of these Tuesday nights when our little church is filled with worshipers from neighboring campuses and churches. Some of us look back on our college years and wonder how it was we were able to cram all sorts of study and activities into the late watches of the night, and still get up for class the next morning! Ah, Youth!

Last night I went to the graduation of a six month residential substance abuse rehabilitation program in Bristol. It was an emotional night for all. The graduates consisted of drug dealers, forgers and thieves. All were felons. One man had spent fourteen years of his life in prison. He entered the hospices of the Tennessee Department of Correction at the age of twenty-two. The program included a rigorous schedule of worship times, Bible study and service. For some it was the longest they had ever been sober since they were in their early teens. All gave credit and thanks to God. “I am a new creation,

Psalms are sung prayers. They can express the broken heart of a believer and the broken spirit of whole communities. They can launch into soaring anthems that enjoin choirs and orchestras to the heights of ecstasy and joy, or express the simple gratitude of a trusting soul toward God. Some can be sweetly hummed in the morning and lightly whispered before going to bed. Others rumble like the blues or rage like a rap. Love, hope, praise, awe, disillusionment, loss, sin, sickness and exile--the whole range of human experience has been offered to God in these prayer/songs throughout the millennia by Israel and the Church.

The pastor welcomes us, calls us to worship and prays a blessing over our work ahead. Everything is set except the table. As we leaf through our hymnals for the first song, the bread and cup are conspicuously absent.

The rousing strains of the opening hymn draw our attention to the notes and words on the page before us, but out of the corner of our eye we catch a glimpse of two people with the missing elements. As we follow their course to the front of the church they pause, raise the elements and place them on the table. The two volunteers find a seat as we try to find our place on the page. Verse two ends with some of us attempting to regain our composure while others beam like insiders of a private joke. Fortunately the service continues, and the distraction lasts only a moment.

“They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.

We make much of the fact that Jesus’ first miracle in the book of John happens at a wedding, and rightly so. His ministry of signs begins at a party with the Son of God supplying drinks all around. The interaction between Jesus and Mary is adorable and the miracle itself slightly scandalous to teetotalers. It is divine mischief at its best, and the resulting faith is an occasion for sheer enjoyment.

In the book of Mark, Jesus’ first miracle occurs at a worship service (Mark 1:21-28). It is as adorable as an earthquake. While the substance of Jesus teaching is missing in the account, Mark’s programmatic words probably catch the theme. “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near, repent, and believe in the good news.

“After this I looked and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the lamb of God….All the angels were standing around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures. They fell down on the faces before the throne and worshipped God.” (Revelation 7:9a, 11)

One glance at a newspaper should be enough to remind us that heaven is foreign territory. If the paper is not enough the book of Revelation should cinch it. On earth a child dies of extreme poverty every three seconds. In heaven winged lions crowned with eyes never stop saying, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come.” Earth is not paradise, and heaven takes getting used to. Every Sunday we enter the sanctuary mauled by the world, and joining singing lions in praise.

When conscious of our situation it can seem surreal. Or, as the ancient church would put it, we enter a mystery.

Worship is at once as easy as losing oneself in a song or a prayer or moment of awe. It is also grappling with the great tragedies of life and the eternal truths of God. It can leave a person with a sense of true home. On other occasions it will seem like the most pointless, ridiculous thing we do during the week. In sober moments we realize that we have no idea what we are doing, but we are glad for having done it. Such are the paradoxes of worship.

We should never get too comfortable with worship. Worship, after all, is not a matter of comfort. Every Sunday we intentionally place ourselves in the Almighty's thunder rumbling, earth crushing, cross bearing path. It is a wonder we say anything at all. If the book of Revelation teaches us anything it demonstrates that God will shake the stars out of the sky to get our attention. When God draws near he strains the laws of nature and shatters our most cherished assumptions. To worship is to voluntarily enter into life on God's terms. The experience can be disorienting and terrifying.

Surrounding the Almighty, however, are concentric circles of worship. The beasts of nature, the elders of our faith, the denizens of heaven and the saints who have gone before us are eternally engaged in worship. Every language and people is represented--even beings we have never encountered. They explode with praise, sound our deepest concerns and at times remain deafeningly silent. “Holy! Holy! Holy!” they sing. “How long?” they cry. “Come, Lord Jesus!” they hope. And all this occurs in the midst of tragedy and victory. If we are not disoriented we are not paying attention.

On Sunday, we enter an event already in progress. We practice the customs of heaven here on earth. We fail. But we return to try it again. And every now and again we hear the strains of a choir beyond ourselves. Sometimes we are singing their song and sometimes they are learning ours. In the swirl of sights, sounds, tastes and smells we enter the mystery, and there discover God himself enthroned among his people throughout time and around the world; God among us right here and right now. It’s a wonder we can ever be the same.

Worship & Enjoying God Forever

Q. 1. What is the chief end of man?
A. Man’s chief end is to glorify God,[1] and to enjoy him forever.[2]

Thus contends the Westminster Shorter Catechism. In this we agree with our Reformed brothers and sisters.

Even in a nation where our freedom to worship is protected by law, and though a majority of the people in our schools and workplace may profess to share our faith; it is safe to say that the chief aim of our society is not to shape people “to glorify God, and enjoy him forever.