Category: Worship (Page 9 of 27)

Thanksgiving 4 Sunday

“I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one.” ~John 17:22

We’ve been given a profound intimacy with the Father and Son that changes all of human life. It’s a unity that encompasses the Father with the Son, all disciples with them both, and all disciples, in turn, with one another. This is the gift of Jesus’ prayer. It’s not what we have to do or maintain; it’s what God through Christ has already given us and continues to maintain through the power of his Holy Spirit. It’s just a matter of whether we recognize it or not.

This Sunday, we are set to gather in gratitude to give thanksgiving to our God for the gracious gift of this unity. We will acknowledge the fellowship we share with the other Christian congregations in downtown Amarillo on this day of worship and praise and thanksgiving. Together.

Our guest preacher here at Central on Sunday is Howard Griffin, my good friend and the senior pastor at First Presbyterian Church. As has become our custom on the Sunday before Thanksgiving, we will share a special time of communion around several tables in the worship center piled high with a wide assortment of breads, representing the divinely-ordained diversity in Christ’s Body, his Church. Then at 6:00 Sunday evening, all four churches are meeting at First Baptist for the first ever “4 Amarillo” Thanksgiving service.

As God’s children, unity is our nature. This is who we are: One with Christ and one with his followers everywhere. What that means is that there is very little, if anything, outside of denying Jesus as Lord in word or deed that can separate us. If that’s the case — and it is! — then our diversity and our differences are not just tolerated, they’re embraced and appreciated. Even celebrated. Thanksgiving seems like a perfect time for just such a celebration.

Peace,

Allan

Around the Table: Part 5

“Obey these instructions as a lasting ordinance for you and your descendants. When you enter the land that the Lord will give you as he promised, observe this ceremony. And when your children ask you, ‘What does this ceremony mean to you?’ then tell them, ‘It is the Passover sacrifice to the Lord, who passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt and spared our homes when he struck down the Egyptians.'” ~Exodus 12:24-27

The final dinner Jesus shared with his disciples on the night of his betrayal was a Passover meal. The synoptic gospels all make the explicit claim that this was the Passover. Jesus made preparations and gathered his disciples to “eat the Passover.” Since this last supper has become for the majority of Christians the be-all, end-all paradigm for our own beliefs and practices regarding the Lord’s Supper (for right or wrong), it makes sense to study carefully the Passover context of that last night. I’ve had church leaders on more than one occasion point to the gospel accounts of this last meal to justify their order that we not sing any songs during the Lord’s Supper. After all, the logic goes, the Bible says they sang a song after the meal, not during. Of course, if we’re to follow that logic to its conclusion, we’d be sharing the Lord’s Supper only on Thursdays. Upstairs.

So, yes, let’s look at the Passover context of what was happening around the table on that last night.

As we’ve already noticed in this series, the Jewish Passover meal — all covenant and/or community and/or sacrificial meals for that matter — is a communal celebratory event. As an expression of salvation, it was yet another community meal celebrated following a sacrifice. The Passover, in particular, was a joyous celebration of God’s deliverance of his people from slavery in Egypt.

“Celebrate it as a festival to the Lord — a lasting ordinance!” ~Exodus 12:14

“Celebrate this day as a lasting ordinance for the generations to come.” ~Exodus 12:17

“I am going to celebrate the Passover with my disciples.” ~ Matthew 26:18

The Passover Supper also was a remembrance of that deliverance. By remembrance, we don’t mean a merely intellectual act or emotional recollection. This is a faithful action, a rehearsal, a participation in that deliverance. The Passover liturgies from the Hebrew Scriptures and the Jewish writings from the first century all contain actions and language that help the people around the table to identify with the historic salvation event as if they were present in Egypt and at the Red Sea.

“Celebrate the Passover of the Lord your God because in the month of Abib he brought you out of Egypt.” ~Deuteronomy 16:1

“…so that all the days of your life you may remember the time of your departure from Egypt.” ~Deuteronomy 16:3

“…because you left Egypt in haste.” ~Deuteronomy 16:3

“We cried out to the Lord… the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm.” ~ Deuteronomy 26:7-8

“Each should celebrate as one who has gone out of Egypt.” ~ Mishna

We also know that as Jesus and his disciples gathered on that last night, their supper together was marked by great joy, praise, and thanksgiving. This was not a dirge or a funeral meal; expressions of joy at this supper were the command of God.

“…with great rejoicing… singing… praise.” ~ 2 Chronicles 30:21-27

“…celebrated with joy… Lord had filled them with joy.” ~ Ezra 6:22

“…your times of rejoicing, your appointed feasts.” ~ Numbers 10:10

The Passover was also established as an anticipation event. Children of God ate the meal together looking forward to that day when they would be eating it in a much better place, in wonderfully better circumstances. They eat and drink with an eye to the future, focused on an upcoming meal that will surpass the one they share today.

“When you enter the land that the Lord will give you as he promised, observe this ceremony.” ~ Exodus 12:25

If we’re really out to imitate every detail of that Last Supper at our communion times together on Sunday mornings — again, for right or wrong — then why don’t we? As good law-keeping Jews, Jesus and his disciples would have been in a festive spirit that night and engaged all the elements of the evening with great joy. The meal was marked by group identity and interaction. It was a present participation in the past events of God’s salvation. They were singing the psalms, specifically Psalms 113-118, before, during, and after the supper.

I would recommend singing songs of salvation, songs of praise for God’s mighty acts, before, during, and after our communion meals together. I would suggest swapping salvation stories around the table. I once was ______, but now I’m ________. Ask each other the questions: from what have we been delivered? From what to what have we passed? Who took our place that day? Do it together in the aisles or along the walls in your worship center. Huddle up around your pews. Allow the children to ask the questions: Why do we do this? And then share the story: because the Lord our God delivered us by the Passover Lamb. And then hug each other and sing another song.

Peace,

Allan

Even the Sparrow Has Found a Home

“How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord Almighty!
My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the Lord;
my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God.
Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself,
where she may have her young — a place near your altar,
O Lord Almighty, my King and my God!” ~Psalm 84:1-3

For the Israelites of old, the temple in Jerusalem represented both the physical and spiritual dwelling place of God. The temple is where God lived; it was his throne and his footstool; it’s where his people gathered to meet with him in worship and praise, in sacrifice and service. If one wanted to experience the presence of God, if one wanted to be near to God, he or she went to the temple. Of course, everybody wants to be near to God. Everybody wants to be in his presence. So everybody goes to the temple. Even the birds of the air make their nests in the temple eaves, they lay their eggs and hatch their little bird babies as close to the altar as they can get. Everybody wants to be near to God.

And God is in his holy temple.

Our understanding today is that God, by his Holy Spirit, actually dwells inside each one of us as his dear children and disciples of his Christ. We, the Church, are the temple of God. His presence is within us. And I would never attempt to equate our church building here at 1401 South Monroe with the temple in Jerusalem. The differences are at once obvious and numerous and beyond enormous. But when God’s people come together in his presence, in the name of his Son, and by the power of his Spirit, he does meet with us in a special way. He is present with us together on Sundays in our church buildings in ways that he is not present with us otherwise. There is something unique happening. We can’t put our finger on it, we have a difficult time defining it; but we know.

“Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.
As they pass through the Valley of Baca, they make it a place of springs;
the autumn rains also cover it with pools.
They go from strength to strength, till each appears before his God.” ~Psalm 84:5-7

I imagine that God is the one who gathers us together on Sunday mornings. I imagine he blesses his people as they iron their shirts, as they match their socks, as they feed the kids, as they search for their Bibles and the car keys during that hurried early morning hour. He is the one who calls and gathers and blesses. People don’t come to the church building because the preacher called. They don’t gather because the elders or their friends brought them here. It’s God. God calls us to gather as his community of faith and worship him. And as we drive down I-40 and negotiate Washington Street with all of its lights, as we arrive from north, south, east, and west Amarillo and beyond, as we pull into our parking spot, God is preparing us. He’s reminding us. He’s getting us ready to experience his presence in powerful ways we haven’t since the Sunday before.

“Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere;
I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked.” ~Psalm 84:10

This church building at 1401 South Monroe is a place where God’s people do regularly experience his presence in profound ways. We discussed this together as a staff earlier this week. After reading and praying through Psalm 84, each of us named two or three places — physical places — around here where we encounter God’s presence. During baptisms on a Sunday morning. Praying with newly baptized believers behind the baptistry. At funerals. During the congregational singing. During the sharing of communion. While watching kind brothers and sisters helping one another up and down stairs, opening doors for each other, cleaning up somebody else’s spill. While spontaneous prayer circles break out in the worship center. In our youth group’s Huddles and Muddles. When we do anything in the old chapel. Walking by Mark’s office while he ministers to a broken young man or a woman who’s lost all hope. Listening to the children laugh at Kid’s University downstairs.

Our God lives here at 1401 South Monroe. Yes, I know, he dwells inside each one of us in powerful and mysterious ways. The ways our God lives with us and in us today is a marvelous fulfillment of his eternal covenant promises. It’s more than any of us could have possibly imagined. It’s so wondrous that even “angels long to look.” It’s so much better now — indescribably better — than when God’s presence was only experienced at the temple. But that doesn’t discount in any way the fact that our God, yes, does indeed live here in our church building, too. Yes, he does.

Where and when in your church building do you really, really, really feel the presence of our God?

See you Sunday,

Allan

Singing Out Loud

“Glorify the Lord with me; let us exalt his name together!” ~Psalm 34:3

One of the many blessings I enjoy as a preacher is the introduction of new authors and ideas to me by members of our church. At least a couple of times a week someone will email me a link to an article that has touched them in a particular way or recommend a book they believe I might really enjoy. I love it. These kinds of things work to broaden my own vision and horizons, they usually give me good things to think about (or “borrow” for a sermon or Bible class), and they always give me another glimpse into the heart and soul of the brother or sister doing the recommending.

Recently, I was directed by a fellow Central-ite to the blog of Jennifer Gerhardt, a preacher’s wife who lives in Round Rock. I was linked specifically to a post titled “One Reason You Should Sing Out at Church.” My great love of congregational singing compelled me to click on the link immediately. My passion for deep Christian community compelled me to pass it on to you.

Here’s the link. But don’t click it yet.

Gerhardt describes an outdoor screening of the Wizard of Oz in which her family and the crowd joined together to sing “We’re off to see the wizard…” to illustrate what happens when we all sing together in worship:

“When people, different in color and taste, personality and position, sing together on a Sunday morning, when they sing-speak the same words in the same second, lifting high the name of the same Savior, they agree and affirm and commingle. When I sing and you sing, we’re saying to one another, in small part, ‘I’m with you.’

When we sing together in worship, we belong.”

Gerhardt goes on to observe that approximately 5,400 species of animals sing: humpback whales, dolphins, gibbons, bats, tree frogs, and all the birds. But of all the animals that sing, apparently not one of them lives on the ground. Every single animal that sings live in the trees or in the ocean. Researchers are convinced that the reason lies in the fact that singing requires security. Singing makes an animal’s presence known both to friends and foes. Tree canopies and ocean depths tend to be more secure than the firm surface of the ground. Animals who live in trees or under water feel safe enough to sing.

There’s only one exception in nature to this rule. Humans.

“Most of us don’t sing in front of strangers. We sing with people we love. People who won’t insult us or embarrass us or stare at us or surreptitiously film us and put the footage on youTube. Singing with others is an act of trust.

When we don’t sing, it often springs from an unwillingness to be vulnerable. That’s what excuses like ‘I’m not good at it’ and ‘I don’t feel comfortable’ boil down to.”

The interesting thing is that being vulnerable is the risk one has to take in order to make any kind of connection with anybody. You’re not going to connect with a person or a group if you don’t open yourself up. It just won’t work. It’s ironic, really, that a lot of us won’t sing because we don’t want to stick out and be separated from the group. But playing it safe like this actually works against us: we wind up not connecting, not belonging. If you want to connect, one of the best things you can do is open up your mouth and let it fly with some serious out-loud singing!

Lots of people don’t sing at church. Maybe you don’t. Man, you’re missing out on a whole lot more than you think. Thank you, Jennifer, for reminding us how vital congregational singing is to unity and connection in the Lord’s Body. And thank you, Suzanne, for the link.

You can click it now.

Peace,

Allan

 

Singing as Discipline: Part Two

Finally, the opening night of the Texas high school football season! Fight songs and Frito-Pie, pep rallies and pom-poms, booster club cookouts and homemade signs, game programs filled with local ads wishing the kids luck and hot chocolate in the Thermos, shoe polish on the car windows and new paint on the bleachers, touchdowns and tackles, clapping for the other school’s band, great catches and dramatic picks, momentum, crossing your fingers before the 34-yard field goal, and “why don’t we throw (or run or blitz or stunt or screen or fake or trap or zone) more?” Amarillo High’s Golden Sandies open up at home tonight against Odessa. We’ll be tailgating with some of our best friends in the Bivins Stadium parking lot at 7:00 and in our seats on the 30-yard line in plenty of time for the 8:00 kickoff.

“Blow, Sand, Blow!”

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I shared with you last time the first half of an interesting article by Sean Palmer regarding our corporate singing when we gather as God’s saved people. His question — and it’s a good one — is “what would church look like if we re-framed corporate singing as a spiritual discipline?” You can click here to read the article in its entirety.

To re-cap the first part of his article upon which we reflected in the last post, our corporate singing is viewed by many of us as an individual pursuit. It’s funny because we can’t do corporate singing by ourselves. It has to be done together, as a group. But we think and act like we want all the songs picked out and sung just for us. We enjoy, celebrate, bemoan, criticize, and judge our worship assemblies based mainly on what we personally like. And that’s wrong, wrong, wrong, for a whole long list of reasons.

Allow me to give you today Palmer’s second half of the article with my own comments sprinkled in. These are five things he believes would change in our churches, five things that would result for all of us, he thinks, if we were to view our singing together as a spiritual discipline.

1. We wouldn’t expect immediate results. No faithful practitioner of spiritual disciplines expects to walk in, practice a discipline for an hour, and leave humming a tune and tapping their toes. In the realm of spiritual practices, we know that a blessing is found in the practice itself. You could practice contemplative prayer for years without any tangible outcome, uplifting feeling, or goosebumps. But you come to love and enjoy practicing the presence of God.

Randy Harris says his second great fear about practicing contemplative prayer is “What if something happens?” His number one greatest fear about contemplative prayer is “What if nothing happens?” The point of a spiritual discipline is to enter the practice in complete submission to God, giving yourself entirely to him, and inviting him to do with you exactly what he wants. It’s to be present to God, present with God, available to be used by God as he wishes. Isn’t it enough — isn’t it everything! — to bask joyfully in the glory that is communion with Christ and his saints? I’m singing with God’s people in the holy presence of God, for cryin’ out loud! Does it matter that it’s not my favorite song? This “audience of one” idea is not good for our worship theology. God is not an audience in our worship. We’re not performing anything for God. He’s not sitting back on his heavenly throne just soaking up our praise and prayers. Our God is active in our worship. He is moving us and changing us and blessing us and speaking to us and growing us together in our worship. Maybe I won’t see it or feel it at the moments. Maybe it’ll take months or years. But it’s enough to just sing with my brothers and sisters in the knowledge that I’m being transformed.

2. We could sing on behalf of others. There are songs I hate, like “Amazing Grace.” I’ve never liked it. But I know “Amazing Grace” is tremendously meaningful for others. A friend recently shared with me the place of the song “Amazing Grace” in the recovery movement. The song means a great deal for members of AA and other recovery groups. Those folks are in my church. As a spiritual discipline, I can sing that song — though I despise it — on their behalf. I sing, therefore, not because it’s efficacious for me, but for those around me.

To me, this is the most powerful and practical and understandable of Palmer’s five reasons. This is the logic I have used for years when I speak or write about the evils of personal preference tainting our holy worship of God. The really unfortunate thing here is that he uses the words “hate” and “despise” to describe his own feelings about the classic hymn “Amazing Grace.” How can you be a Christian and not like “Amazing Grace?” Seriously.

We’ll know that Christ is being formed in us when we can joyfully sing other people’s songs. Maybe a younger person doesn’t care for “How Great Thou Art.” It’s too slow and the language is weird. But that younger person realizes how much that song means to all the older people in the room. He loves these older brothers and sisters. They are his Christian family. And this song really moves them. It reminds them of faithful friends, of long gone relatives, or of sweet moments in other locations. They absolutely love this song. It’s one of their favorites. So, the younger person sings it with all of his heart, soul, and strength. He sings this song he doesn’t really like for the sake of all the people in the room who totally love it. He sings it at the top of his lungs with gusto and enthusiasm, because he knows it brings so much joy to so many other people around him. He’s blessing them. In the same ways, an older person may not be really fond of “Mighty to Save.” It’s too long and the tempo is weird. But that older person realizes how much that song means to all the younger people in the room. She loves those younger brothers and sisters. They are her Christian family. And this song really moves them. It reminds them of the summer camp or the youth retreat, of a mission trip or some other really transformative event in their lives. They absolutely love this song. It’s one of their favorites. So, the older person sings it with all of her heart, soul, and strength. She sings this song she doesn’t really like for the sake of all the people in the room who totally love it. She sings it at the top of her lungs with gusto and enthusiasm, because she knows it brings so much joy to so many other people around her. She’s blessing them.

Serving other people, meeting the needs of others, considering them more important than you, is very Christ-like. It’s extremely Christ-like. In fact, it’s the very essence of who Jesus is. Our King came to this earth not to be served, but to serve. I wonder why we can’t come to a worship assembly for 75-minutes with the same attitude.

3. We could be less manipulative. I hate to be the one to tell you, but many worship experiences are designed to manipulate your feelings. That’s not all bad. Church leaders should want you to do something at the end of a service, and music is frequently used to disarm congregants toward that end. Anecdotally, Christian Rich Mullins was approached by a fan. The fan said, “I was really moved during that song going into the third verse. I felt the Spirit.” Mullins responded, “That wasn’t the Spirit; that was when the kick-drum came in.” Perhaps as a spiritual practice, all of us would be more open to simply allowing God to move in our midst rather than modulating up the last chorus, jumping around, turning up the volume, and hosts of other tricks we invent to gin up the congregation.

It’s a weird cycle for worship leaders and preachers and those charged with planning worship assemblies.And a trap. Most of us, by nature, are people-pleasers. We enjoy the pats on the back and the words of affirmation and appreciation for our hard work and our wonderfully executed sermons and song-leading. And we can be overly focused at times on getting things to feel and move just right. I’m guilty of this. I’m one of the worst. More energy! More volume! More drama! More interaction and participation! More, more, more! In moments of serious personal reflection, I sometimes wonder if our God is saying less, less, less.

4. We could hear the God of the desert. Perhaps God doesn’t want us to sing the songs we love. Might it be possible that some of us have come to praise our worship and worship our praise when the call of God is for us to go into the desert, to experience emptiness in an area of life on which we have come to overly depend? If so, could all of the church-hopping and in-fighting over music over the last twenty years been our avoidance of entering the space in which God wants to lead us? Could it be possible that one of the reasons we’re not experiencing greater engagement with God is because we have abandoned his voice and chosen a tune we like? We must never forget, before Jesus begins his life of impact, he goes into the desert.

To treat singing in a worship assembly as a spiritual discipline would be to faithfully sing the songs that are given to us at that time. It would be to ask God to lead us where he wants us to go in our singing. It would be submitting to his voice and his will in our worship. I try to personally find the voice of God in every word that is said to me by a brother or sister in Christ. I believe God speaks to us through other faithful people. He communicates with us and teaches us this way. So, even if I’m being hollered at by a church member who wants to wring my neck (hasn’t happened in a while; whew!), I try to assume there’s some truth to what he is saying to me. Somewhere in his criticism is a nugget of something I really need to hear and pay attention to. Shouldn’t we also view our corporate singing the same way? Somehow, as I sing this song I don’t really like, God is speaking to me. Somewhere in this lousy song with the simple notes and shallow lyrics is a bit of eternal truth about our holy Creator. Shouldn’t I sing that song with the intention of listening for that? Shouldn’t the assumption always be that God is doing something here?

5. We could actually praise God. We have to ask ourselves serious questions about the nature of who we worship when we walk out of common worship upset with God-directed music and lyrics, regardless of whether or not the praise team was “singing our tune.” If corporate singing were a spiritual discipline, God would be at the center of it. And in God’s presence, humankind has always simply bowed.

Peace,

Allan

Corporate Singing as Spiritual Discipline

Yes, today is Wednesday. It’s hump day, it’s already the middle of the week, and I’ve neglected to post the traditional first-day-of-school pictures that have always marked the beginning of another education cycle at Stanglin Manor. The tradition is that I wake them up five minutes before their alarms are set to ring with several loud and very off key singings of “School Bells.” And, right before we head out the door, the taking of the pictures. Here they are: Valerie, our “little middle,” a junior now at Amarillo High; and Carley, our “tiny bear,” entering 8th grade at Bonham.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’d like to spend today and tomorrow considering a piece authored by Sean Palmer, a very talented preacher of the Word down in Temple, Texas. This short article was forwarded to me a couple of weeks ago by our worship minister here at Central, Kevin Schaffer. I love the article and want to share it and explore it in this space for two reasons: 1) I agree with it entirely; it says everything I’ve been preaching and teaching about corporate singing for many years, and 2) it says it so much better than I ever have.

With Sean’s forgiveness (he has to forgive me; he’s a Christian!), I’m just going to paste the first half of the article right here:

There’s nothing the church does so wonderfully and terribly as singing. If you’ve spent more than 10-minutes inside an American worship service, you already know how important singing is. Regardless of the worship style of your congregation, the music is important and usually done well. Music has power. It transforms moments and has the power to embed memories and stir emotions. We are moved by the singing and music in ways little else can or does. For most of us, the music and singing of our congregation is one of the major reasons we picked it.

And that’s the problem. In the mid-20th century, some traveling and nationally known preachers decided that a “personal Savior” was the carrot-and-stick that would motivate non-believers to come to faith. It worked. For the last 50-years, the sales pitch for faith in Jesus has been a personal one. “If YOU were to die today, where would you spend eternity? If YOU ask Jesus into your heart… If YOU accept Jesus as your personal Savior…” A measure of individualistic focus is right and good. After all, I live in a world where I cannot make faith decisions for other people. And as a good Anabaptist, I would choose not to even if I could. Nevertheless, it’s nearly impossible to imagine that such a singular focus could result in much other than a self-centered faith. After all, we got into this for personal reasons.

And that’s where the singing comes in.

Our corporate/common singing, regardless of the musical style of our congregation, is still viewed by too many as an individual pursuit. This is odd, because we can’t do corporate singing alone. We just wish the songs were picked and sang as if corporate worship existed for us alone. Don’t believe me? Do you know anyone who left their church because of a change in “worship?” In truth, these changes are barely changes in worship. Most churches still celebrate the Eucharist, engage sermons, sing, pray, and — sadly — have announcements. What changes is the singing! And the reason people leave over “worship” is because they no longer “like” the singing… personally.

Of course, we rarely say that out loud. We say, “It’s not what I grew up with. This music doesn’t speak to me. I’m not being fed by this.” Or we evaluate the musicality and lyrical content of the music. Don’t get me wrong. It hardly ever matters what style of music you prefer — hymns, CCM, instrumental, Gregorian, a cappella, classical, jazz — all of us do the same thing.

Our problem is that we enjoy, celebrate, bemoan, criticize, and judge church life based on what we like. We are deciding on the basis of what we like because we’ve bought into the lie that our corporate singing should be personal. Personal worship for a personal Savior, right? But what would church look like if we reframed corporate singing, not in the ever-narrowing category of “worship,” but as a spiritual discipline?

If corporate singing were a spiritual discipline…

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Allright, let’s stop right here for the day. I’ll post the second half of the article, all five of Palmer’s reasons for viewing congregational singing as a spiritual discipline, tomorrow. For now, let’s consider his premise that most of the people in our churches — including, if we don’t guard against it, our church leaders — view their salvation in Jesus Christ as a personal thing.

In our increasingly individualistic and highly specialized society, our default is to see what God has done through Christ on the cross and what the Spirit did at the garden tomb was for me. Christ died for me. God loves me. Jesus gives me eternal life. I am saved. I am a Christian. I worship God. He answers my prayers. Me, me, me!

Contemporary praise songs support this individualistic view of our salvation and relationship with God. Most church songs written in the U.S.A. in the last quarter-century use many more singular personal pronouns than plural. O Lord, Prepare Me to be a Sanctuary. A Shield About Me. My God is Mighty to Save. I will Call Upon the Lord. I stand to praise you, but I fall on my knees. O God, you are my God, and I will ever praise you. My Life is in You, Lord. Holy Lord, most holy Lord, you alone are worthy of my praise. On Bended Knee I Come. Nobody Fills My Heart Like Jesus. He Has Made Me Glad. I Worship You, Almighty God. Make Me a Servant. The joy of the Lord will be my strength, I will not falter, I will not faint. You Are My All and All. Jesus, you’re my firm foundation, I know I can stand secure. Lord, I Lift Your Name on High. I Sing Praises to Your Name. I could go on and on. But this is enough to make the point.

They’re not all like this. Some of the songs we sing together speak as or to the corporate body of Christ. But for every We Bring the Sacrifice of Praise or We Shall Assemble on the Mountain, there are a dozen or more songs like There’s a stirring deep within me and Here I am to worship, here I am to bow down, here I am to say that you’re my God.

Those of you who are members of churches who use an abundance of technology during corporate worship, have you noticed how all the pictures and backgrounds are mainly of one person worshiping God? You probably haven’t noticed it or paid attention to it because it’s so prevalent in our society and, consequently now, in our churches. Look at it this Sunday. One man standing on a mountain with his hands raised to God. One woman in a field, bowing down in prayer to God. It’s in our PowerPoints and Easy Worships, on our bulletins and websites, our art and our language foster and support this idea of an individualistic salvation. Kevin tells me all the time it’s next to impossible to find worship images for our use in assemblies that depict more than one person adoring God.

Naturally, and unfortunately, this shapes us into a people who expect the songs on Sunday mornings to be our personal favorite songs, the songs we personally enjoy, the songs that speak to us personally, the songs that personally move us or have special meaning for us. Personally. Of course, no one is saved alone. Not one person is saved by him or herself. God saves us together, with one another, belonging to one another, in a faith community. Together. The overwhelming majority of the pronouns in Scripture are plural. The Bible was written for the collection of God’s people. God so loved the whole world that he gave Jesus who came and died for the whole world. We are made more like Christ together. We grow in the Spirit as a group. We watch and pray, sacrifice and serve, as a body. Worship in our Scriptures is never an individual or a personal thing. But we’re all programmed to view it that way. As long as we do, we’ll keep having “worship wars” and we’ll keep judging the worth of a church assembly based on our own personal preferences.

Peace,

Allan

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