Showing posts with label #Worship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #Worship. Show all posts

26 September 2023

Wanna feel the Holy Spirit? Crank up the bass.

Wanna feel the Holy Spirit? Crank up the bass.

I joke all the time about this with the people in my church: If you want people to really feel like the Holy Spirit is in the building, get on the soundboard and make sure the bass guitar, the bass drum, and all the lower notes on the keyboard, are cranked all the way up to 11. Conversely if you want ’em to feel like he’s missing, you do the opposite and turn all of ’em off.

It’s one of those jokes which is funny because it’s true. If you actually did this, it’s actually how people would respond. The higher the bass, the more people “felt” the Spirit move. Turn it all the way down and you’ll get, “I don’t know what was wrong this morning, but I wasn’t really feeling the Spirit today.”

’Cause bass causes stuff in the building to vibrate. Including people. Most of us know this already… but we never really think about how else it affects us.

Go to any movie theater and you know they make darned sure there are subwoofers under the floor, and they’re cranked all the way up. They want you to feel every crash, bang, gunshot, and explosion in that movie. Low sound waves shake your innards, and turn a spectacle into an experience.

Same with dance clubs. Same with concerts. People weep at concerts. Same as they’ll weep at worship services. It doesn’t always register how this is the physical effect of soundwaves, and how our brains have connected the sensation to our emotions, so it triggers us. All we know is we feel.

So when people don’t know there’s a difference between spirit and emotion (or even when we’re totally aware of this fact, but we’ve never bothered to discern which is which), we’ll assume the feelings are the Spirit at work. Especially when it feels really good.

Conversely, when “my spirit is downcast,” we’re still talking about emotions and sensations. Not anything the Spirit is actually doing—and he’s usually doing quite a lot! But because we don’t feel something positive, we presume he must be absent.

This isn’t a uniquely Christian thing. Most people don’t know the difference between spirit and emotion. Most people don’t think there is any difference. Pagans in particular, but I’ve caught even mature Christians making this mistake as well. I know better, and even I slip up sometimes. I’ve yet to meet a Christian who hasn’t.

27 September 2022

Two types of worship music.

There are two types of worship songs we tend to see in churches.

No, I’m not talking about hymns versus Christian pop songs. That’s been an old Evangelical debate ever since churches began using contemporary worship choruses in the early 1970s. Nor am I talking about traditional-ish (hymnlike songs) versus contemporary-ish, nor organs and pianos versus guitars and basses, white gospel music versus black gospel music, or any of the other music debates we find nowadays. Those are stylistic choices, and Christians are free to disagree about all of ’em.

Nope, I said type of worship song. It refers to the purpose and content of the song. Generally there are two of ’em.

INSTRUCTIVE describes the songs written to deliberately teach an idea—to put it to music, and get it into Christians’ heads. They teach us about amazing grace, about what a friend we have in Jesus, about how great God art, and that he’s holy holy holy. They tend to have a lot of verses, various complicated words… and no I’m not only talking about hymns, though a lot of ’em totally fit the description.

MEDITATIVE describes the intentionally simple songs. They have few verses, or lots of repetition; their ideas are basic Christianity. Like how there’s wonder-working power in the blood of the Lamb, or on Christ the solid rock we stand, or God’s a good good Father. Their purpose is to give us something we already know by rote, so we can sing ’em and not ponder the words… and instead meditate on God and his greatness, and pray to him while our lips go on autopilot. Yep, exactly like when we pray in tongues.

Didn’t know your worship songs had these purposes, didja? You just thought you were singing nice things to God. But yep, every Christian song does one or the other. (Even if—and yeah this is gonna sound cynical of me, but it’s nonetheless true—even if the song was really only written to be catchy and sell albums. Because the artists are fully aware it won’t be recognized as a worship song otherwise.)

Okay. Since humans are creatures of extremes—us Christians included—many of us love one type and hate the other. We won’t always know why we have this preference; we tend to think it has something to do with the style.

20 September 2022

Hallelujah: The highest praise?

I’ve heard a whole lot of people claim the Hebrew word hallelujah means “highest praise.” It doesn’t.

The word הַ֥לְלוּ/hallelú is an imperative verb which means “praise ye,” or “praise, all of you,” and יָ֨הּ/Yah (KJV “Jah”) is of course short for יְ֭הוָה/YHWH, the LORD. It literally means “praise ye the LORD.” Exactly like this old children’s worship song I grew up with. (YouTube has a version of it with cats. Yea cats!)

Hallelu hallelu hallelu hallelujah
Praise ye the LORD
Hallelu hallelu hallelu hallelujah
Praise ye the LORD
Praise ye the LORD
Hallelujah
Praise ye the LORD
Hallelujah
Praise ye the LORD
Hallelujah
Praise ye the LORD

The children’s pastor would instruct one half of the room to stand to sing, “Hallelujah,” then sit while the other half stood to sing “Praise ye the LORD.” Of course the song would speed up as we repeated it, and we kids found all this jumping out of our seats to be very entertaining. It’s why you don’t see it practiced this way in a lot of adult services. Way too many creaking knees.

It’s a very simple song, but it’s meant to teach us precisely what “hallelujah” means. It’s technically not even praise! It’s the command to praise. “Praise ye the LORD” tells people to praise God… and leaves it up to us as to how we’re gonna praise him. Maybe with loud musical instruments, Ps 150.3-5 maybe with singing. Ps 150.6 Maybe with art, dance, barbecue… all of which are actually in the bible, believe it or don’t. Heck, why not a laser light show? Get creative!

But of course not every Christian has grown up with this children’s song, and a lot of us have taken our definition from another song—CeCe Winans’ 2003 song “Hallelujah Praise (The Highest Praise).” Which begins like so.

Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah
Hallelujah is the highest praise, hallelujah is the highest praise
Hallelujah is the highest praise, hallelujah is the highest praise

Lately I’ve heard it in Bishop Carlton Pearson’s 2019 song “Hallelujah is the Highest Praise.” Other gospel artists are repeating the idea, ’cause it’s all over the place. But let’s be fair; the teaching didn’t originate with Winans. I’ve heard it long before her song came out.

It’s obviously not based on bible. Not just because of what the word hallelujah literally means, but because God makes it pretty obvious that saying fancy, holy-sounding biblical-language words are way less important to him than simply obeying him. Praise him aloud till your throat’s sore, but if you don’t do what he says, what good is that? “Hallelujah” in the mouth of an unbeliever or hypocrite isn’t even remotely the highest praise.

What’s the highest praise we an offer Jesus? Do as he says. Abide in him. Jn 15.4 The devout, fruitful, obedient Christian can say nothing, and by their actions praise God mightily.

08 June 2022

The “clap offering.”

CLAP OFFERING 'klæp 'ɔf(.ər).rɪŋ noun. Applause. (Meant for God.)

In American culture, the custom after someone performs—particularly if they performed well, but sometimes just to be polite or kind—is to clap one’s hands. It’s either praise for a good job, or meant to cheer up a performer who’s, y’know, trying. Not clapping means you either missed your cue, or you’re offended but aren’t gonna boo, or (which is more commmon) you didn’t know you were supposed to clap, ’cause you’re at a solemn or formal occasion—a fancy restaurant, a funeral, or even a church service.

Yes, a church service. When someone gets up to sing, in theory they’re doing it for God. Not the audience, not the congregation; not to entertain us, but praise God. So hold the applause, ’cause it’s inappropriate. They want God’s praise, not ours.

Which sometimes feels just weird. We’ve been conditioned to applaud a performance ever since we were little children. Any performance; even sucky ones. So if someone gets up and belts out a really stirring song for God, and they did a fine job, it feels just wrong to leave it unacknowledged. Especially when we enjoyed it too.

So Christians invented the “clap offering.” We applaud. Supposedly we’re applauding God, not the performer. But… yeah, we’re applauding the performer.

And those who are offended by such an idea can pretend it’s really directed at God. “Yeah, give God a clap offering! Give him the praise!” And some of us actually will direct our applause at God, and the performer can redirect our praises towards him… and again yeah, we’re applauding the performer. Didn’t they do a good job? (Or hey, it’s our kids on the stage!—and they weren’t good at all, but let’s make ’em feel better. Way to defeat that stage fright! Or whatever.)

09 June 2020

Worship. (It’s not just music.)

WORSHIP 'wər.ʃəp noun. Reverence and adoration suitable for a deity; also often demonstrated to a certain principle, person, or institution.
2. Feeling or expression of such reverence and adoration; the acts or rites which make up a formal expression, such as religious ceremonies.
3. verb. To perform acts and rites of worship.
[Worshiper/worshipper 'wər.ʃəp.ər noun, worshipful 'wər.ʃəp.fəl adjective.]

When Christians pray, frequently we worship God at the same time.

The ancients defined worship as acts of reverence and devotion, same as we do. Middle easterners would usually get in the “downward-facing dog” yoga pose, putting their heads to the floor before before their gods and kings. That’s how they showed obeisance, an old-timey word for ceremonially humiliating yourself in honor of somebody else. Kings got off on that.


From the Black Obelisk of Šulmānu-ašarēdu 3: Northern Israeli king Jehu ben Jehošafat of Samaria worships Assyrian king Šulmānu-ašarēdu bar Aššur-nasir-apli, to whom he paid tribute. Probably took place in 833BC; the stone dates from 827. Wikipedia

For convenience (and partly out of pride), westerners simplified this: You could kneel and bow, but head to the floor isn’t necessary. Or you needn’t go all the way down to the ground. Or at least bow or curtsy. Whatever satisfies the person you’re worshiping… and isn’t too difficult a posture for you to get into.

Westerners also added another definition to worship: We might feel worship. That is, we feel like someone’s worthy of reverence and adoration… but we don’t assume the position before them. This meaning was also invented for convenience; somebody might get caught not performing the appropriate acts of worship, but could claim they certainly felt worship, and shouldn’t this count just as much?

The United States banned nobility in our Constitution, so most Americans have the attitude we don’t worship anyone but God. Yet we still stand when presidents, governors, judges, or mayors enter the room. Some of us bow to visiting royals… and rock stars. We don’t always identify this as worship, but that’s exactly what it is.

But this wouldn’t be enough for ancient middle easterners: They expected you face down on the ground, doing obeisance to the king or gods. Or you’d suffer consequences. And in the case of the LORD, doesn’t he totally merit this level of respect? It’s why Muslims still get down and put their heads to the floor five times a day: God is most holy, most worthy.

Some of us Christians pray the very same way: On the floor, face down, honoring God. Posture’s important.

Worship versus service.

Christians figure bowing or prostrating isn’t the only form of worship. We figure service is a form of worship. When we do good works on God’s behalf, and love our neighbors like he commanded us, that’s worship too.

Well… we might’ve added that definition to worship, but the scriptures didn’t. They distinguish between worship and service.

Luke 4.8 NIV
Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.’”

And no, this isn’t just Hebrew poetry, where we’re repeating the same idea with different words. Because there are plenty of instances in the Old Testament which contrast the two. Namely how people worshiped the LORD, but insteada serving him, they served pagan gods. The Samaritans, fr’instance:

2 Kings 17.33, 41 NIV
33 They worshiped the LORD, but they also served their own gods in accordance with the customs of the nations from which they had been brought.
 
41 Even while these people were worshiping the LORD, they were serving their idols. To this day their children and grandchildren continue to do as their ancestors did.

The New Testament too. Jesus pointed out the hypocrisy of people who worshiped the LORD in temple and in public, but privately bent his commands beyond the breaking point, and taught it was okay to do so.

Mark 7.7 NIV
“‘They worship me in vain;
their teachings are merely human rules.’”

Y’know, kinda like certain Christian hypocrites do: They’ll perform acts of reverence and honor to Jesus, but outside the church building they’ll only serve Mammon.

True, if we worship God we should likewise serve him. And prioritize our service to him instead of prioritizing our jobs, bosses, family members, public approval, our finances, our convenience, or our comfort. One should follow the other, just like good works is the Spirit’s fruit, and evidence of salvation. But they’re not the same thing—same as good works don’t save.

Good deeds and obedience aren’t worship. They’re the result of worship. If we worship God, if we truly revere and adore him, we’re gonna want to obey him; we’re gonna want to be good like he is. These things prove we’re not just going through the motions of worshiping God, but that we authentically worship him. “In spirit and in truth,” as Jesus put it; Jn 4.23 it’s not half-hearted or hypocrisy, but full-hearted and real.

Worship versus music.

Christian music which praises God, usually which praises him second-person with a lot of “you” statements (“You are holy, you did such-and-so, I love you,” etc.) tends to get called worship music, and for a lot of Christians it’s called “worship” for short. The unfortunate side effect is Christians, particularly newbies, get the idea worship music is worship: We worship God by singing Christian songs.

And it can be. Worship’s about acts of reverence and devotion, and of course the feelings of reverence and devotion—and few things trigger feelings like music. Some of us are easily gonna get whipped into a lather for God with some really rockin’ worship music.

Others not so much. Which is why they hate worship music; they see it as emotionally manipulative. And let’s be blunt: It is. Is this a bad thing? Depends on why music pastors wanna make us emotional, and since most of ’em simply want us to worship God, I don’t see this as a problem whatsoever. (Now if their goal is to make us think they’re awesome musicians, or want us to lower our defenses so they can preach bulls--- and heresy without question, big problems.) You want people to adore and revere God, music’s a useful shortcut. One God is fully aware of—and endorses! Didn’tcha notice the five-volume book of Psalms in the bible?

But again, music isn’t worship. Music inspires worship. People sing about how awesome God is, and it reminds us and gets us to love and honor him. If it’s good music, performed well, people won’t be distracted by the music and musicianship itself, and can solely focus on God. If the words are good content, and accurately describe God instead of naïvely distorting him, we’ve got a good picture of God in our minds instead of the usual pop-culture junk, and love him for who he is instead of what we project upon him.

And if you wanna do it facing the floor, or waving your hands in the air, praising Jesus like y’just don’t care—hey, do whatever honors God.

Ritual worship.

Obviously the bible describes a bunch of ritual acts of worship. Like ritual cleanliness, ritual sacrifice (largely stuff we as Christians needn’t do anymore), and various sacraments. When pagans think of worship, that’s generally what they think of: Us doing weird church rituals.

And yeah, we can do rituals as part of our worship. But back to Jesus’s idea of worshiping in spirit and truth: Do we practice these things in reverence and devotion to God, or are we doing them because “that’s just what we do”? (Or, in the story where Jesus spoke of worship in spirit and truth, “that’s where we oughta do it”?) Yeah we should do sacraments, ’cause God thinks sacraments are important. But more important is our attitude during these sacraments. We’re doing ’em out of love, not duty; with grace, not with nitpicking how other Christians don’t do ’em the same way we do ’em.

The core of our worship, the spirit and truth of our worship, should always and only be our love of God. It’s the whole point. Otherwise why do it? Why go through the motions? Why get on the floor, go to singalongs on our day off, eat tasteless crackers, or otherwise make these efforts?—and it’d better not be to make others think we’re holy or superior. If we love God, we worship him.

And from there, all else follows.

03 October 2019

Worship.

WORSHIP 'wər.ʃəp noun. Expression of love, respect, and honor, particularly in formal acts or rituals. (Usually expressed to a deity, but frequently to people or principles at a level comparable to religious homage.)
2. Feelings of love, respect, and honor for a deity.
3. [verb] Showing love, respect, or honor.

Properly, worship is anything and everything we do as part of our religious devotion to God. Whether we do it out of active love or passive custom, it’s all still worship.

There’s a tendency in charismatic churches to equate worship with worship music. Prayer too, but mostly music. And no, I’m not saying music isn’t a valid form of worship, or a really good form of worship; it totally is. But you know the reason Christians sing a song’s chorus over and over and over again… has nothing to do with whether God loves the song. It’s entirely about how much the music pastor loves it. Or the people of the church.

And when it becomes much more about our preferences than God… well, then it’s not so good a form of worship anymore. This is not to say God wants us to sing songs we don’t like; he’s not a sadist! He wants us to enjoy worship. We should sing songs we enjoy. But maybe just remember who it’s all supposed to be about, okay?

But worship’s anything we do for God. Could be something which doesn’t look overtly religious or obviously holy. But the way we’re doing it, we’ve made it something we’re doing for him, and turned it into worship. And therefore it can be literally anything. Could be singing in church… and could also be raking the lawn, correcting the kids, cleaning the tub, eating your vegetables, doing your taxes. Anything.

Provided of course we’re actually doing it for God. Sinning isn’t for God; don’t do that and call it worship. If God forbade it, whether to everybody or just you personally, don’t just declare, “This is for Jesus” and figure it whitewashes the sin into worship. Don’t do Christian rituals and figure that makes up for sinning yourself sticky; God hates that. Is 1 Don’t do stuff with the attitudes of bad fruit, and figure if you’re doing it for Jesus it doesn’t matter what bad fruit it generates: Being angry “for Jesus,” or partisan “for Jesus,” or treating any human being as less than God’s image “for Jesus,” is never something God approves of, so don’t try. You’re not fooling anyone, least of all him.

07 December 2017

Liturgy: A formula for worship.

LITURGY 'lɪd.ər.dʒi noun. Detailed order of service for (Christian) worship.
2. [capitalized] The eucharistic service in an Orthodox church.
[Liturgical lə'tər.dʒə.kəl adjective, liturgist 'lɪd.ər.dʒəst noun.]

Some churches—namely the older ones—are liturgical: They have a very particular order of service, and all the churches do it the same way. Go to nearly any Catholic church anywhere on the planet, and you’ll instantly find it familiar, because all of them use the very same prayer book, the Roman Missal. True, it’s been translated into all the local languages, but whether the service is in English, Spanish, French, Arabic, Chinese, Hindi, or Italian, it’ll be the very same order. Same bible readings. Same prayers. Same songs. Same everything. Everywhere.

Some Christians are bothered by this level of conformity. They don’t get it: The point isn’t conformity, but unity. All these Christians are worshiping God together, as one massive body of Christ, and that’s why they’re all saying the same things and praying the same prayers. When you’re off by yourself, having left the worship service, you’re entirely free to worship God as an individual: Sing what you like, pray what you pray, on your own. But once you’re together, you really are together. You, and every other Catholic on the planet. (Or every other Orthodox, or every other Anglican, or every other Lutheran.) It’s a powerful idea.

And it’s a comforting idea. For some Christians, churches which don’t do this are way too undisciplined.

Sure, the nonliturgical churches have a bit of a liturgy: Nearly every church follows an order of service of some kind, whether they print it in their bulletins or not. At my church, it’s three songs, announcements, offering, greeting one another, sermon, altar call, dismissal. But y’know, another church in my denomination might follow a whole other order. And sing different songs. Certainly pray different prayers. One congregation worships together, but not together on the level of a church where every congregation syncs up like Catholics.

But liturgical Christians feel there’s a little too much freedom in such churches. The music may not be theological enough for them. The extemporaneous prayers don’t do as good a job as rote prayers in teaching Christians how to pray. The preacher’s freedom to discuss any bible passage, means there’s a whole lot of bible which is never touched. (Fr’instance, when’s the last time you heard a message about one of the minor prophets?—and quoting one of their Messanic prophecies doesn’t count.)

Hence liturgical Christians prefer liturgical churches. There, they feel they’re particularly worshiping God together—with other Christians round the world, with other Christians throughout history, and growing with them rather than growing on our own.