The Highest Form of Praise

It was an early Sunday morning when I lost my second child.  Hours later while the world slowly roused itself from sleep to the rosy rays of a new day, my world grew only darker.

The endocrinologist had given me the sad news earlier in the week as he read off a test results' declining numbers.  It was just a matter of "when," not "if" the pregnancy terminated.  Like most mothers-to-be, I prayed against the odds that this baby would live, prayed against hopelessness and barrenness until this morning when there was no more reason to pray.

What to do next was simple--it was Sunday.  On Sunday, husband and I always worship at our local church.  And so, we dressed and drove there in silence.

I can still visualize myself that day singing the hymns and praise choruses with my Christian family.  It was almost an out of body experience where I could hear my voice singing the words, but I did not feel them in my heart.

A few tears slipped silently down my upturned face as husband held me intentionally close.  No one knew, no one mourned but the two of us. In that moment, I could feel my stoic husband holding me up as if letting go might break us both.  I remember consciously asking God to accept these songs of praise as a sacrifice for Him, one I offered in my brokenness even if I could not offer a heart of joy.

Last month, I relived this moment as I watched our church's music minister leading the congregation in worship even though his mother had died earlier that morning, the second parent he had lost in a month's time.  

My eldest daughter later asked me, "Why didn't he just take off? Have someone else fill in for him?"

"What else would he do?" I replied.  "She was already gone, so there's nothing he could really do that couldn't wait.  Besides, when you're hurting, there's no place more comforting than worshiping God with your brothers and sisters who love you."

It sounds crazy--to give praise to God when we're hurting the most.  And yet, that is where the most peace can be found. 

2 Samuel gives one well-known example of this type of worship in Scripture.

The prophet Nathan told King David that his son conceived in sin with Bathsheba would die.  David repented and mourned for six days, begging God to change His mind.  In fact, he mourned so deeply that when the child died on the seventh day, Scripture says "the servants of David were afraid to tell him that the child was dead, for they said, 'Behold, while the child was still alive, we spoke to him and he did not listen to our voice. How then can we tell him that the child is dead, since he might do himself harm!'" (2 Sam. 12:18).

King David figured out that the whispers could only mean one thing, and upon learning the truth of his son's death, he "arose from the ground, washed, anointed himself, and changed his clothes; and he came into the house of the Lord and worshiped" (2 Sam. 12:20).

He worshiped.

In Lynn Austin's newest historical fiction book entitled Keepers of the Covenant, she says, "We show our faith in God when we keep moving forward even when our prayers aren't being answered.  It's the highest form of praise to keep believing that God is good even when it doesn't seem that way" (p. 35).

More than any book I've read over the past year, this text displays the need for hope in the midst of doubt and loss.  Time and again, Austin demonstrates how we must choose to worship God, to have faith in God, even when we can't see the good in the horrific events that happen in our lives.

Keepers of the Covenant tracks the life of the prophet Ezra as he must lead the Jewish remnant living in Babylon back home to Jerusalem.  Austin begins with King Xerxes' decree that all Jews be slaughtered and takes us through the fall-out of this battle on the 13th day of Adar, which the Jews celebrate as "Purim."

After the death of his own brother at the hands of the Gentiles, Ezra must choose to worship God or to allow the bitterness to mark his family and witness in the community.  Ultimately, he must choose the path of forgiveness, to trust God in the midst of heartache.

Austin puts it best when she says, "If we deny God, our lives aren't worth living" (p. 467).

Nowhere is this more true than when we are suffering.  It is then that we need faith more than ever before.  I believe it is also then that our worship is the sweetest because it is not given out of our excess but in our lack.

It is in those lowest points when we realize we have absolutely nothing to offer God but our brokenness, our insufficiency, our need--these are the times we must choose to praise Him anyway...for He is worthy of our worship and praise. 

When Your Heart's Not In The Relationship

It is hard to put ourselves out there, to unlock the armor surrounding our hearts and make ourselves vulnerable to another. 

Marriage, friendship, parenthood--no matter the relationship, each involves tearing down protective walls we so carefully construct, many whose brick and mortar we have painstakingly laid by hand after some past hurt or betrayal.

I've been there numerous times, closed tight as a newly formed rose bud, separated from all others around me as I promised myself I would simply live at a distance from everyone and anyone in order to never be hurt like that again.

But time and time again, I have felt others' kindness and offers of love and friendship carefully soften the petals of the heart until my heart is in full bloom of a healthy relationship, once again vulnerable as I extend part of me beyond the safe walls of myself.  

It's a cycle of separation and safety followed by the terror and joy of entering into relationship again only to find myself back at the beginning all too quickly.  

Keeping people at arm's length is a safe existence.  But it's also quite lonely.

What's more, it is not what God intended, especially when it comes to our relationship with Him. 

The prophet Isaiah cautions the people of Israel concerning this type of cold relationship towards God, warning of pending judgment "Because this people draw near with their words And honor Me with their lip service, But they remove their hearts far from Me, And their reverence for Me consists of tradition learned by rote" (Is. 29:13).

The Israelites had religion.  They had their sacrifices, offerings, feasts, and prayers down pat.  But there were two problems.

One, their hearts weren't in their worship, and secondly, their worship was "tradition learned by rote."  Neither was a true relationship with the One whom they served with their lips and hands.

To begin with, a real relationship with God must involve our hearts.  At one point in our lives, we've all probably said something like, "My heart just wasn't in it."  In other words, we did whatever it was, but we didn't want to and likely didn't do it to the best of our ability. It was just a task to check off our lists.

On the contrary, a relationship that pleases God is one where our heart is fully in it.  He can't just be another thing to check off our list each day.

A heart-involved relationship requires us to be honest with God, to tell Him when we're upset over the path He's asked us to walk (it's not like He doesn't know anyway!) versus simply praying words we think He wants to hear but that we don't really feel inside. Such transparency fosters trust as real truth is spoken instead of platitudes.

Next to honesty, it also requires us to share every part of our lives with Him.  That means we can't relegate Him to certain times of the day, certain activities, or particular days of the week.  We must seek to worship Him when doing the mundane tasks like washing clothes, listen for that still small voice when weeding the flower bed or mowing the lawn, and look for His fingerprints when stuck in traffic or at the doctor's office.  It's a 24-7-365 relationship.

Secondly, a real relationship can't be mere tradition.  As Isaiah said, it can't be a routine.  Instead, we must seek to make our hearts tender to the Spirit's prompting over our sin so that we can repent quickly and be reconciled with God. 

As the Psalmist writes, "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; A broken and a contrite heart, O God, You will not despise" (Ps. 51:17). This is what God wants from us.

At times, we may feel hurt or betrayed by what God has allowed to happen to us. Yet, while our flesh may tell us to protect our hearts from Him by merely giving lip service to that relationship, it is in these moments that we most need Him fully in our lives.  

Unlike those around us, He is the only one we can trust with our whole heart. He will never leave us nor forsake us...and that's a promise He sealed with the blood of His only Son. 

Becoming Our Idols

It was review time before proceeding with the morning's lesson.  This was my favorite part of teaching four and five year old Sunday School--seeing what was sticking in their young minds and what was still out of their grasp.  Two months later, I was still getting "Ahaz" or "Ahab" as an answer for "the prophet whose name starts with an A" question.  Apparently, those two kings' evil nature (and buzzing zzzzzz sound at the end of one of their names) made them much more memorable than Amos' uneventful watching after mindless sheep.
After quickly reviewing the past few months' progression through the Old Testament wherein Israel fell away from God who then sent prophet after prophet to warn them to repent and return to Him, I asked my group of ten what I thought was a simple question.  

"What is an idol?"

My youngest son blurted out an answer without raising his hand.  "A rock."

My mouth opened to speak before shutting again.  It wasn't the answer I expected.  My co-teacher and I looked at each other, grinned and shrugged our shoulders with a "yeah....that's right.  But...." We then proceeded to explain again how anything could be an idol.

Still, I couldn't fault my son.  Even Google seems to agree.  Plus, I, too, had grown up believing that idols were fashioned with one's hands, such as a metal statue of Budda or an Egyptian goddess carved of stone.  Even as an adult, I still have to fight against such a definition of the word idol as it is easier to pin down than the truth that anything and everything can become an idol if it takes the place of God in my life.

The "anything-ness" of the definition is too nebulous for the black-and-white mind of a four year old to grasp. And in all honesty, it's that vagueness that still bothers this grown up who would just prefer a simple definition that she could easily follow or not follow, but at least she would be certain of which was which.

The Psalmist writes, 

"The idols of the nations are silver and gold,
The work of men’s hands.
They have mouths, but they do not speak;
Eyes they have, but they do not see;
They have ears, but they do not hear;
Nor is there any breath in their mouths.
Those who make them are like them;So is everyone who trusts in them." (Ps. 135: 15-18).

While the Psalmist does speak of idols made of silver and gold, the broader definition of idolatry as anything that is placed before God--has the same conclusion--"Those who make them are like them." 

In the above passage, we can glean two truths about idols: (1) we craft idols in our lives and (2) we become like our idol.  

First, you and I may not bow before idols of silver or gold, but for every idol we do metaphorically bow to each day, it is crafted by us.  That's the reason something like "exercise" or "eating healthily" or even "sports" can become an idol to some yet not to others--we individually craft that idol in our own lives.  Pride?  Self-centeredness? A love of material things?  Whatever is our idol, we develop it as the ultimate end and choose to serve it, putting it first before God.

Secondly, and more frightening, is the knowledge that whatever our idol is, we become like as well.

In short, we become like what we worship. If I idolize my reputation above all else, could that keep me from ministering to someone God puts in my path?  If I worship the pursuit of the American Dream, could that leave me for not enough time for other ministry opportunities God would have me be apart of?

The Psalmist is clear--if I worship and idolize anything other than God, then that is what I will become like.  Instead of becoming a living reflection of Jesus, we will reflect something else--our idol--to the world around us.

Paul reminds us of what we will be if our focus is on Christ alone: "And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit" (2 Cor. 3:18). 

When we rid our lives of idols, and when our worship is of God alone, we will become like Him.  Anything else, and we're transforming into something unGodly.

This week when you think of idols, remember these two things: To idolize something is to worship it.  To worship it is to become it.

Preparation Day: 'Go to Church' Or Worship?

Each Saturday evening while my three children slough off a pound of farm dirt from the day's hard play and labor, I begin my routine of preparation for the following Lord's day.  This night-before gathering to meet the next morning's mad dash started when the twins were infants.  With diapers, burp cloths, blankets, loveys, chew toys, an extra set of clothes, bottles, cheerio puffs, and pacifiers (all times two), I quickly learned this preparation made all the difference in whether our family arrived to worship or merely arrived at church.

Experience taught me it wasn't enough just to wake up early.  No matter how early I set the clock, Sunday morning would always exude a tinge of madness and, usually, more than a little chaos.  If milk is spilled, clothes are soiled before breakfast, or something essential is misplaced--this is the day it will happen.
 
That is why each Saturday before I slip my aching arches beneath the sheets, three sets of small shoes line up across the foot of the treadmill, each with matching shoes and stockings tucked in the toes.  Two crisply ironed shirts, two pairs of pressed dress slacks, and one equally wrinkle-free little lady dress swing back and forth immediately above those foot-covers.

By the back door sit a bag of after-church play clothes for dinner at Grand mama's house as well as a second bag filled with the lesson and necessary craft supplies for my four-year-old Sunday School class.

Without such preparation, I would either arrive at church in a foul mood or would throw up my hands in defeat.

As I've been working through the seven Biblical feasts, I've noticed a similar pattern in what God's chosen people did for many of these annual times of worship.

They prepared.  

In essence, preparation was the key to proper worship.

Consider the seven day Feast of Unleavened Bread, which begins the day after Passover.  Before its celebration, the Jewish people obeyed the command in Deuteronomy 16:3-4, which required the community to clean their homes of any products containing leaven: "Let no yeast be found in your possession in all your land for seven days." 

Such an action symbolized God's people separating themselves from sin, literally "removing" sin from their homes and, by extension, from their hearts.  That means any packaged foods in the house containing yeast, baking powder, baking soda, or sodium bicarbonate had to be removed.  Imagine going through all your cabinets, refrigerator, and freezer, and reading all the labels to determine if a leavening agent were in the pre-packaged food.  It's a bit like Spring Cleaning, and we all know how long that can take if done properly.

That's preparation for worship.

Even Jesus, Himself, spoke of the importance of preparation when discussing the Feast of Passover. He instructed Peter to "Go and make preparations for us to eat the Passover,"  and Peter replied, "Where do you want us to prepare for it?" (Lk. 22:8-9).

Scripture records Jesus giving a series of instructions that concluded with the words, "Make preparations there.”  The disciples then "left and found things just as Jesus had told them. So they prepared the Passover" (Lk. 22:12-13).

Four times in this short passage, Luke emphasized the preparation necessary for a proper celebration of this Feast of remembrance, this Feast of worship.
 
Another Feast that emphasizes preparation is the Feast of Trumpets, more commonly known in modern terminology as Rosh Hashanah.  This one-day Feast importantly announces the coming of Yom Kippur (The Day of Atonement) in ten days.  With the blast of the trumpet, the Jewish community begins to prepare their hearts for God's judgment.

As Rabbi Derek Leman says of this Holy Day, "The sins of the nation would be judged for another year on Yom Kippur.  On that day the high priest would bring blood into the holiest place that no one else entered.  And every year the question was the same: Would God receive Israel's offering?  Would He grant mercy and grace another year?...Traditionally the period between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur [The Day of Atonement] is called 'The Ten Days of Awe.'  That week and a half is a time for self-reflection, to repair relationships, and to pray in light of one's own standing before God.  These are days of repentance" (p. 57).

Again, the Feast and Holy Day emphasized preparation for worship.

Do you see a pattern here in God's call for His people to worship?

It wasn't just a "Hey, mark your calendar and show up on X day" kind of event.  Instead, each Feast, each Holy Day was about preparing one's heart (and home, by extension) for worship.

Compare this to our generation.  As a general rule, we don't prepare for worship.  Instead, we waltz in on Sunday morning, expecting to receive God's blessing, to receive an enlightened message from His Word, to feel His Spirit move within......and all without really preparing our hearts for worship.

Worship isn't just about showing up at a certain place and time.  True worship should involve us continually preparing our hearts for meeting with God.

He is holy.  He is worthy of such preparation.


Other Articles in this Jewish Feasts Series:
Reorienting Our Lives: 50 Days From the Cross
Understanding the Jewish-ness of Jesus
The Truth About Passover

Source: Leman, Derek. Feast: Finding Yourself at the Table of Tradition. Nashville: Lifeway P, 2008: p.57.