Pastor Tim's message on Sunday held up the early Christians before us as an example of true, fervent worshipers. Jerome, a believer in the 4th century, looked back at those early believers and said, "The blood of Christ was yet warm in their veins."
The need for passionate reverence (or reverent passion) is an interesting one. Most of the time when we see passionate people, they aren't reverent (picture football fans). And many times reverence comes without passion--I distinctly remember being 4 or 5 years old at my great-aunt Peg's funeral. I was terrified into reverence by the open casket, but I had never even met my great-aunt and felt no emotion toward her at all.
The seraphim in the throneroom of heaven have need to cover their faces, even as they cry, "Holy, holy, holy!" That is how great God is. As C.S. Lewis put it and Pastor Tim quoted, "He's not a tame lion, you know." He's not safe. He's not under our thumbs. He is the sovereign Lord who created the universe. So why should we sing and dance and clap before such a fearsome being?
Because of Christ, we have the forgiveness of sins. That is why we can not only dare to approach him--Hebrews 4 says that we can confidently and boldly draw near. The Spirit is the seal of our adoption, and we can now call God our Father. This is no longer a mere creature-Creator relationship wherein our proper response is fear and reverence. We are now daughters of God, people called by his name. That inspires joy and glee in his presence. How can we not forget ourselves and love on him?
The Gospel is not just for now--whatever fears or insecurities or inhibitions we have that would keep us from dancing before the Lord will all be removed when we enter eternity. There we will not be hindered by anything, but our love for him will finally be what it ought. For now, because of Jesus, let us boldly draw near to the throne, where we can ask him for the grace to become true, impassioned worshipers.
What would an unbeliever think about your relationship with God if she saw you worshiping? What is the fear that would keep you from worshiping as you want to, and what can you do to overcome it?
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comments:
I didn't grow up around praise, but I did have one, odd example, and 20 years later, one, awe-some lesson.
My dad was a Catholic, so I never understood why, in a sanctuary full of Methodists who did Not move except to stand up and sit down, he was raising his hand during the songs. And they weren't even the upbeat songs; he did it during songs like Great is Thy Faithfulness. You know, the old, traditional, take-a-deep-breath-you're-gonna-need-it hymns.
I didn't understand. The secular world had shown me that dance movements were determined by the beat that you heard. My father was showing me something different, something more important, something of God's way. The words of the classic hymns, full of rich, Biblical theology were pure Gospel inspiration, which moved his heart to raise his hand. It was a simple, faithful, Biblical expression of gratefulness and love toward God.
However I was always embarrassed to see him singing (badly out of tune) with his hand up for everyone behind us to see. I would focus on using my voice lessons to breathe correctly so I could sing as loudly and clearly as possible to drown him out and used the hymnbook to direct my sound waves and avoid the sight of him. He was an example of God working in that place, and I wanted nothing to do with it.
Unfortunately, my understanding of praise didn't progress much, in spite of the fact that I started raising my hand. I was still caught up in how well I was singing, whether the people around me heard me, if I would distract anyone if I hit a wrong note or if they might comment at the end about how well I sang if I got all the notes right. That is, until the Sovereign Grace NEXT Conference in 2009.
I remember that we were only into the first song or two when I lost my voice. Yup, the whole thing, altogether replaced with a frog. I thought of not singing at all, when a simple reminder was given to me: "make a joyful NOISE." Never had I been in a better position to do just that, and I did. But it wasn't enough to just sort of croak out the words. Not thinking about my singing let me focus on the Gospel lyrics, which kindled my love for God, which got me started. I held the back of the chair in front of me and rocked on my heels to the music. I raised my hands, not because others did or didn't but because I couldn't keep them down. I swayed; I jumped; I MOVED. And for the most part, I didn't care who saw, what they thought or what they were doing.
God was teaching me a lesson I thoroughly needed. When my mind was set on God's greatness and my heart filled with gratitude for His mercy, then I wanted to PRAISE! The fear/attention/distraction/opinion of men really did "grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace."
Now I spend my Sunday mornings, singing as well as I can manage while jumping up and down, generally bumping into the seat in front of me or nearly tripping on my heels, in the second row on the middle isle. I didn't pick the seat, God did, which is another story, but thinking about it right now, I feel a little like Peter. You know, the one who couldn't fess up to even knowing Jesus to a servant girl one week, and a short time later is giving one of the first ever church sermons in the streets on Pentacost to the same people who killed His Lord. It might not be a matter of life and death for me, but it is the same power of the Holy Spirit at work in my heart, shifting the focus from the world to God.
It's an amazing thought that God's power is at work in me, and you know what? It makes me want to Praise.
Post a Comment