I recently preached a two-part mini sermon series on worship. As the new associate pastor with oversight over the worship of the church, I thought it was appropriate for me to take the pastor’s vacation time and elaborate on my view of worship. I called them “Worship, Side A” and “Worship, Side B.” Side A developed the why of worship – my text was Psalm 145, and I suggested that we worship because of what God does and, more fundamentally, who he is. Side B asked the question, “How?” My text was Romans 12. My definition of worship was something to the effect of consciously devoting every moment and every activity to the giving over to God the worth that he is do. Akin to Brother Lawrence’s The Practice of the Presence of God.
Along the line, this week I read a posting in the blog of someone I went to college with. The entry is here. Myles talked about meeting with someone who lives in an intentionally simplified community, and how he (Myles, not the intentional community guru) was surprised that he was not suddenly urged on to seek out this kind of community as he had in the past.
The rest of this post will probably make more sense if you have read Myles’ entry. So, if you haven’t read it yet, go ahead and go read it. I’ll still be here when you get back.
Anyway, his blog entry has me thinking more about worship and transformation and intentional living and simplification. I have Richard Foster’s book Freedom of Simplicity on my shelf. I’ve had it there since reading Celebration of Discipline in college. I’ve started it a couple of times. But I wonder if simplicity is the key to a good Christian life. Do we have to be simple to hear the most from God and to experience him most fully? I can’t help of thinking about how Job had his blessings doubled after such a close encounter with God – and I don’t think he suddenly ceased to be the most righteous man on the face of the earth in his day.
Anyway, I think each moment – no matter our circumstances or stage of hysteria – is waiting for its transformation. It is our choice what to make it. We can transform it for good or for evil – to worship God or ourselves (or another entity we deem to deify). Each moment begs to be one in which we worship God. And I think Paul is saying in Romans 12 that whatever our gift is – and is that gift a spiritual one or just the gift of the moment? – we should make the most of it. This moment, right now, is the supreme and only gift we have. What do we do with it?