I’ve spent a lot
of time lately thinking about how God has spoken to me so clearly and on so
many occasions through experiences of corporate worship. I do not know if it is
simply because I love to sing and am moved by music or if it is because I let
down my guard while I am surrounded by others who are singing just as loud as I
do; there’s just something about worship that allows God to speak to me in
exciting ways.
It was during a
time of worship that I made a decision to give my life to Christ. It was during
a time of worship that I answered God’s call to vocational ministry. It was
even during a time of worship that I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was
going to marry Jessica. When everything seems to click in worship, God seems to
show up in an absolutely amazing way.
But I know that
over our two plus years together, I’ve told you plenty of stories about when
worship worked, when the leaders, the speaker, and the congregation were all in
sync and God was deftly able to weave in and out of the chords and choruses
with ease. Today, though, I want to share with you a story about a time when
worship didn’t click, when instead of feeling left in awe, I was left feeling
angry.
This Midwinter
Weekend Retreat featured a new band that I did not know. I happened to get to
the camp early enough to hear their sound check, and I stood in the back of the
worship space listening to them play, trying to decided if I was going to like
them or not. I thought that they were pretty good, honestly. They were rocking
every song they played, and even though they played a few songs I didn’t know,
I was convinced that they would do a great job of leading us to the presence of
God. I left right before they finished sound check, and didn’t see them again
until that night’s opening worship.
I was right.
They did rock. We had such a great time during the opening songs. They pushed
the intensity to raise our energy and they looked like they were genuinely
engaging in worship themselves. It was awesome.
After a few
songs, the speaker stood up and delivered a great message—I think. Honestly, I
don’t remember much about it, which is funny since I’m now in the same
profession. When I was in high school, though, all I cared about was the music,
the singing. That’s probably not the best attitude for a pastor to have, but
hey, I wasn’t perfect.
After the
sermon, the band stood up for one more song. It was one of my favorites, and I
was pleasantly surprised because I had not heard them practice it earlier. It
was “Holy is the Lord.”
Man, I loved
this song! I stood up on my feet with the rest of the camp and began to sing it
out, loud and proud. The song is about worship, and about lifting up praise to
God using the same words that the angels sing in Revelation. Holy is the Lord God
Almighty! The earth is filled with his glory! It’s beautiful. We sang through
the verse and chorus a coupled times, all the while building in intensity, and
then all of a sudden, they were done. They prayed us out and then we were
dismissed.
Here’s the
problem, though. The band had completely skipped over the bridge of the song.
After you sing through the verse and chorus a couple times, the song
transitions into a powerful two-line anthem. It’s my favorite part of the song.
And it’s rising up all around it’s the anthem of the Lord’s renown. You’re
supposed to repeat it a couple of times and then transition back into the
chorus.
And they left it
out.
I felt like
something had been ripped away from me. Something had been stolen. My time of
worship was not complete, and honestly, I was upset. How could they leave out
such an important part of the song? Didn’t they know that the bridge was my
favorite part? How could they?
This was Friday
night’s worship. They played “Holy is the Lord”—minus the bridge—as the final
song during the next two times of worship as well. During the Saturday morning
worship, I thought, “Maybe they are just building up to it. Maybe they left out
the chorus intentionally so that they can hit us with it this morning.” But I
was wrong. They once again built up to it… and then ended the song abruptly. By
Saturday night, I was honestly thinking about leaving when they started singing
this song. Honestly, it bothered me that much. But when they started singing it
again, I planted my feet and sang just as loud as before.
But something
different happened this time. The song started as it had twice before—verse,
chorus, and repeat a few times. But this time, before they had a chance to end
the song, everyone in the congregation—seemingly at once—began to sing the
bridge. It was as if we had subconsciously decided to collectively rebel
against the band. They were playing a musical interlude; we were singing our
hearts out. The lead singer rolled his eyes, but finally he began to sing with
us. We sang what had been missing for the past two services, and finally
everything seemed right again in my world.
I found out
later that the lead singer had intentionally left out the bridge because he
just simply didn’t like it. He took out my favorite part of the song—an
integral part of the song—because he didn’t want to sing it.
But when the
Spirit moved us to sing, he couldn’t stop us.
It’s interesting
to look at the line he wanted to leave out. “And it’s rising up all around;
it’s the anthem of the Lord’s renown.” It’s a call to action. It’s a call to
spread the Gospel. It’s a call, friends, that mirrors the call of Christ. In
our Scripture reading today, we hear of the disciple’s encounter with the risen
Lord. We see Jesus in his splendor, and we hear his words to the apostles and
to us as well:
“I’ve received all authority in heaven and on earth.
Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of
the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to obey
everything that I’ve commanded you. Look, I myself will be with you every day
until the end of this present age.”
Go and make
disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the
Son and of the Holy Spirit. Spread to them the Gospel message, that all might
hear and be changed. Let is rise up, all around, that might hear and join in
singing the anthem of the Lord’s renown.
And this guy
wanted to cut it from worship.
But the more I
think about this—and I’ve obviously spend time dwelling over it if this
occasion is still ingrained in my head—the more I think about this, the more I
can’t help but come to the conclusion that the band is not alone in wanting to
cut the spreading of the anthem out of the song.
We are just as
guilty of it. I am just as guilty of
it. You see, too often we as the church want to celebrate the resurrection and
celebrate the new life we have in Christ while at the same time we do not want
to do what needs to be done to share that good news—to share the Gospel—with
others. We are content with singing “Holy is the Lord God Almighty” as long as
we can do so in the comfort and safety of our own churches and our own homes.
We want our
church to grow, but we want it to grow because we want to stay open and want to
keep doing things the way we’ve always done them—not because we want to share
the Gospel message to a broken and hurting world. We want to be God’s hands and
feet, but not when that might mean getting them dirty or mean that we have to
interact with certain people that are below our standards. We want to celebrate
the resurrection, but we do not want to hear Christ’s words when he says to
“Go”. We want the joy of being a Christian, but not the work involved in
following Christ.
So we cut it
from our worship. We cut it from our understanding of what it means to be
Christian. We leave it out of our practices, of our engagement with the world,
of our partnership with Christ.
And when we do
this, the world hurts for it. We hurt for it. God hurts for it. Something vital
is missing from our worship and discipleship.
But here’s the
good news. When the Spirit moves, there is nothing that we can do to stop God’s
work in the world. Just like that night of worship so many years ago, when God
decides that enough is enough, the Spirit will work in spite and despite of us.
The anthem will rise up and spread throughout our church, throughout our
community, throughout our world, and we will find ourselves met with the same
choice that the band had: go with it and allow God to move in us as well, or
fight and miss out on the beautiful thing God is doing.
Because the
truth is that God has called us to be an Easter people that shares with the
world the Good News that Jesus Christ, the son of God, lived, died, and rose
again that we might received new life through him. We cannot sing this song by
ourselves; we must share it with the world.
Cause it’s
rising up, all around; it’s the anthem of the Lord’s renown.
Will you sing
along?
No comments:
Post a Comment