It happened when I was eight years old.
My parents were given the opportunity to travel in Europe for six weeks. My father, a pastor, arranged for someone to preach while they were gone. My mother arranged for a middle-aged widow to move into our home to look after my six-year-old brother and me. Everything seemed set.
A few days after a tearful goodbye at the airport, the unthinkable occurred. Our live-in babysitter became seriously ill. My brother and I were passed to a family who had several foster children in addition to their own. It was a great place to be.
They weren't, however, what you'd call committed Christians. They did take my brother and me to Sunday school every week, knowing that my parents would insist on that. But we never stayed for worship. At first, I thought that was terrific. Being a "PK" (preacher's kid), I was never allowed to "skip church." Imagine the thrill of being able to leave right after Sunday school and having more time to dig in the dirt, play army, and watch previously undiscovered programs on TV.
After about three weeks, I realized how much I missed being in the sanctuary, singing the hymns, passing the offering plate (with both hands), and feeling a part of God's worshipping family. I felt incomplete, shortchanged, empty. I missed worship almost as much as I missed my parents.
When Sunday school ended that day, I determined to find a way to stay. Hoping that my host family would not miss me in the crammed station wagon, I lagged behind. I sneaked down the center aisle of the sanctuary to the second pew from the front. When the song leader led the opening hymn I stood up and sang enthusiastically, "I Stand Amazed In The Presence." I was amazed my secret scheme had not been detected.
Somehow unconcerned about how I would eventually get home (some twelve miles away), I breathed a sigh of relief as we sat down for the morning prayer. Just then I felt a large hand on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and turned to see the smiling face of an usher. He motioned for me to follow him to a familiar station wagon that was definitely idling slower than my racing heart! The door opened for me to jump in. I remember feeling two emotions: embarrassment for having kept everyone waiting, and disappointment for being denied a chance to meet a primary need in life.
God places a hunger in the heart of every Christian, young or old, to gather with His people to sing, pray, fellowship, and hear His Word.
Reflecting back on that day now over thirty years ago, I am even more convinced that God places a hunger in the heart of every Christian, young or old, to gather with His people to sing, pray, fellowship, and hear His Word. Not to satiate that appetite leaves us feeling "spiritually anorexic."
As I read the Bible, I'm increasingly convinced that regular worship has always been seen as essential. Three of The Ten Commandments dealt with worship. The Psalter, a worship handbook, was the Hebrews’ prized possession. Even the early church made a life of regular worship a priority. Their lifestyle is recorded in Acts 2:42-47, "They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and prayer. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved."
I'm impressed by the primary verb in verse 42. They "devoted" themselves to public as well as private worship experiences. Can we do less if we desire to take our faith seriously? Yet I am a part of a generation of Christians who increasingly “play their weekends by ear." Sunday worship has become a negotiable activity for many people. Oh yes, we say we’re committed. But our commitment is most often to that which is most convenient.
For Israel's most celebrated king, there was no better opportunity. The public worship of God for him a privilege as well as a priority. In fact, it was a passion. King David’s journal conveys his desire to be in the sanctuary of the Lord. In Psalm 27:4, he writes, "One thing I ask of the LORD, this is what I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to seek Him in His temple." David's singleness of heart was obvious. To him worship was everything. All other activities were arranged around the most important involvement of his week. He guarded his royal schedule so to permit his participation in the true palace of the true King.
But what was it about going to God's house that nominated it as a non-negotiable priority? The answer is found in the yellowing pages of King David's diary. In the verses which surround Psalm 27:4, there are four tangible provisions of worship. These provisions not only account for David's single-minded devotion, they also offer us reasons for taking our worship seriously.
Worship fed the essential hungers of his [David's] heart: God's protection, a life of joy, a secure identity, and increasing knowledge of truth. And worship offers the same for us.
WHY IS WORSHIP IMPORTANT?
1. Worship restores our confidence in God's protection (vs.1)
David, stressed out by the demands of his job and the difficult people in his life, saw the consuming flame on the altar of the tabernacle, and his hope ignited. "The LORD is my light and my salvation," he boasts from his knees in worship. The flame reminded him that his God was the light he needed in order to see into the darkened, days of doubt and despair.
As I enter the sanctuary each Sunday, I am able to exchange my accumulated stress for renewed faith, and my insecurity in myself for increased confidence in God. As I lead others in worship I am aware that God's house is a sanctuary in the midst of a scary world of earthquakes, crime, injustice, and child abuse. It is a harbinger of hope where, in the "safety of His dwelling," we can realize anew God’s promise to protect and surround us in the days to come. I leave worship less focused on me and more aware of God's eternal presence.
2. Worship revives our joy (vs. 6)
The demands of daily routines evaporated David's enthusiasm for life. But, in worship, he discovered an artesian well of joy. The prescribed sacrifices, the music, and prayers involved his emotions in a needed release of Godward praise. "Shouts of joy" were a regular counterpart to the "shouts of battle." He had come to expect a lifting of his heart at the house of the Lord. And because joy was found there, so was he.
I, too, have tasted of the sweet cup of joy of which David writes. After a week of headaches, heartaches, and heartburn, my emotional batteries are extremely low. A marriage is in crisis. Someone has died. My kids have the flu. My reservoir of joy needs to be replenished. On more Sundays than not, standing in the presence of God unlocks the windows of my soul and lets in the fresh air of the Spirit. The oxygen of heaven is transmitted in hymns, praise choruses, choral anthems, instrumental offertories, sermons, the Lord's Supper, and the joyful warmth of being with happy people. I'm convinced the most genuine laughter and expressions of joy are found in a church parking lot after worship. They're not chemically induced, they're Spirit-led. It figures though. Our English word "enthusiasm" is translated from the Greek phrase "in God". Worship connects us to Him and the result is a happiness of heart I can't find any other way.
3. Worship reminds us of our true identity (vs. 9-10)
In his regular retreats to the tabernacle, David found refuge in knowing that he belonged to God. Both his political world and his home life gave him reason to question the faithfulness of those pledging allegiance. His self-esteem was etched in pencil, not in ink. Yet in the place of Divine Presence, amid his own questioning thoughts, David is reminded of who he is by virtue of Whose he is. Though forsaken by those closest to him, he is reassured that the Lord will receive him.
Worship does fulfill the lonely void of estrangement and rebuffed affection. Statistics indicate that church members live 5.7 years longer than those who forego Sunday worship. Perhaps it's because those who dwell in the House of the Lord are reminded regularly of their worth, their Father's love, and their true citizenship.
Like David, I have felt misunderstood and maligned by those who have left the church or a ministry for greener pastures. It hurts to be compared with radio preachers or published authors and found wanting. As a result, I doubt my worth. But when I stand in the midst of the congregation on a Sunday morning and see the cross on the wall, I remember the rejection Jesus experienced. It is then I recall that it was His knowledge of ultimate vindication that allowed Him to "endure the cross, despising its shame." In worship I remember that I am entitled to that same vindication as a child of God. Knowing my birthright and ultimate destiny allows me to cope.
4. Worship reveals to us God's truth (vs. 11)
David was a capable commander of Israel's army. He was a gifted musician and poet. He was worldly wise. He was even credited as being a man after God's own heart. Still David was aware of his ongoing need to know the ways of the Lord and submit to His truth. In worship he was taught the Word of the Lord and given examples of what to do with that knowledge. The House of the Lord is where, his heartfelt request ("Teach me Your ways, O LORD, and lead me in a straight path") was heard and answered.
Being raised in a Christian home, attending a Christian college, and graduating from seminary, I haven't always been able to admit my ignorance of God's Word. I've felt capable, but often become convicted when I visit with a saintly grandmother over coffee and marvel at her facility with the Scriptures. But during worship, God reveals the mystery of His transcendent, inspired Word to all who listen with ears of faith. And in the process, Truth continues to pitch His tent with us.
As we ponder the provisions of worship that nourished David, it's easy to see why he felt the way he did. Worship fed the essential hungers of his heart: God's protection, a life of joy, a secure identity, and increasing knowledge of truth. And worship offers the same for us.
"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He Who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another − and all the more as you see the Day approaching" (Heb. 10:23,25).
