Worship: More Than a Sunday Song

For many of us, worship is one of those words we understand without necessarily stopping to define it.

We go to a worship service. We sing worship songs. We might describe part of a Sunday gathering as “the worship”. If we have been around church for a while, the language becomes completely natural.

But what actually is worship?

Is it music? Singing? Prayer? Something that happens in a church building? Is worship something we do for God, or is there something more relational going on?

Perhaps an even more searching question is this:

What did you come to church for?

It is surprisingly easy for Sunday morning to become routine. We go because it is Sunday. We go because our friends will be there. We are serving on a rota. There is somebody we need to speak to. Perhaps church has simply become part of the rhythm of life.

None of those things is necessarily wrong. Church should be a place of friendship, service, laughter and community.

But Christianity offers something much deeper than simply attending a weekly gathering.

At the heart of worship is an invitation to draw close to God.

A glimpse into heaven

Revelation 4 gives us one of the Bible's most extraordinary pictures of worship.

John is given a vision of heaven and sees a throne with God at the centre. Around it are twenty-four elders and four mysterious living creatures. The imagery is strange, dramatic and deliberately overwhelming.

And worship is everywhere.

The creatures continually declare:

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come.”— Revelation 4:8

The elders fall before God, lay down their crowns and declare that He is worthy of glory, honour and power because He created all things.

It is a picture of everything being correctly orientated.

God is at the centre.

That matters because worship begins by recognising that we aren't.

Much of life encourages us to put ourselves at the centre: our ambitions, comfort, reputation, possessions, experiences and desires. Worship reorientates us. It reminds us that there is Someone greater than us.

But the picture of worship in the Bible doesn't stop with the elders around God's throne.

It gets much bigger.

Let everything that has breath

The Psalms end with a wonderfully expansive invitation:

“Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.”— Psalm 150:6

There is something beautiful about that idea when you begin to notice the world around you.

Imagine being awake just before dawn.

Everything is quiet. Then one bird begins to sing.

Another joins it.

Then another.

Before long, the silence has been replaced by birdsong.

And creation is far bigger and stranger than the birds outside our windows. Whales communicate across enormous stretches of ocean. Penguins somehow manage to look slightly ridiculous on land before becoming extraordinarily graceful underwater. Giraffes tower above us. Elephants possess remarkable strength and intelligence. And then there is the duck-billed platypus, which appears to have been assembled from whatever pieces were left over.

The natural world contains astonishing diversity.

Then look upwards.

Our Sun is so enormous that roughly a million Earths could fit inside it by volume — and yet it is only one star among hundreds of billions in our galaxy. Beyond the Milky Way are countless other galaxies spread across a universe whose scale is almost impossible for the human mind to comprehend.

Whether we look through a microscope or a telescope, creation confronts us with scale, complexity, beauty and mystery.

For Christians, creation isn't God. But it points beyond itself to God.

The Bible describes creation as the work of a Creator. Worship is therefore our response to recognising who He is and what He has done.

And that raises another question.

If we were made to worship, what happens when we worship the wrong thing?

We all put something at the centre

The word worship can sound exclusively religious, but the underlying behaviour is remarkably familiar.

We all have things capable of becoming disproportionately important to us.

Possessions. Careers. Money. Relationships. Status. Sport. Success. Appearance. Technology. Even hobbies.

None of those things is inherently bad.

You can love your job. Enjoy your car. Support your football club. Work hard. Build something successful. Appreciate beautiful things.

The problem comes when a good thing becomes an ultimate thing.

One story shared recently at CHCC involved a young man and a Ford Capri.

He desperately wanted one. He saved for it and eventually bought a brand-new Capri. Every evening he would wash it, leather it down and carefully put it away in the garage. If he went out later, he would come home and wash it again before putting it away.

The enthusiasm didn't wear off.

Eventually one Capri became two.

Years later, there were seven.

The story is funny, but it illustrates something serious.

Things can quietly become the focus around which our lives revolve.

The question isn't simply, “Do I worship?”

A more revealing question might be:

“What receives my attention, affection, energy and devotion?”

What occupies my thoughts?

What determines whether I feel secure?

What could I not imagine living without?

What do I believe will finally make me satisfied?

Christian worship doesn't ask us to stop enjoying good things. It puts those things back into their proper place by putting God at the centre.

Worship is bigger than music

This also means worship cannot simply be another word for singing.

Music can be a wonderful expression of worship. There is something powerful about a room full of people singing together — sometimes hundreds or thousands of voices united in the same words.

But bigger doesn't necessarily mean deeper.

You can stand among thousands of people, surrounded by extraordinary music, and still be distracted.

Equally, a quiet prayer shared between two people can become a profoundly significant encounter with God.

That is because Christian worship is not ultimately about creating an atmosphere.

It is about relationship.

The songs help us express something. The words remind us of truth. Music engages our emotions. Prayer gives voice to what is happening within us. Scripture directs our attention towards God.

But none of those things is the destination.

God is.

The purpose isn't simply to experience worship.

It is to know the One we worship.

So, what did you come to church for?

That brings us back to our original question.

Why do we gather on a Sunday?

Perhaps because that is simply what we have always done.

Perhaps because we want to see friends.

Perhaps we're on the rota and somebody is relying on us.

Perhaps we've had a difficult week and need encouragement.

Perhaps we're searching for answers.

Perhaps we're not even sure why we're there.

There is room for all of that.

Church should be a community where people can belong, ask questions, laugh together, serve one another and share life. You don't need to arrive having everything sorted out.

But amongst everything else happening when Christians gather, there is a remarkable invitation:

We can come seeking God Himself.

Not simply information about Him.

Not merely songs about Him.

Not just an hour surrounded by people who believe in Him.

We can actually draw near to Him.

But what if my life is a mess?

For some people, that idea sounds comforting.

For others, it can sound terrifying.

Because getting close means being known.

Most of us have parts of our lives we're quite happy for other people to see and other parts we'd rather keep behind a firmly closed door.

Imagine someone unexpectedly knocking at your front door.

You look around.

There is washing piled somewhere it shouldn't be. The floor needs vacuuming. There is dog hair on the sofa. Yesterday's mugs haven't made it to the dishwasher.

You might be tempted to keep the door closed.

We can approach God in much the same way.

You can come this far, God — but not further.

You can see the respectable bits.

Just don't look in that room.

Perhaps there are failures we regret.

Questions we're frightened to ask.

Things we've done.

Things that have been done to us.

Thoughts we're ashamed of.

Habits we're struggling to change.

Parts of ourselves we work hard to keep hidden.

And so we assume we need to tidy everything before we can let God get close.

Christianity says something radically different.

He already knows.

The mess.

The failures.

The things we'd rather keep hidden.

And He loves us just the same.

That doesn't mean God is indifferent to how we live. His love transforms us and calls us towards a different way of living. But Christianity does not begin with us making ourselves presentable enough for God.

It begins with God coming to us.

Jesus changes everything

This is where worship leads us directly to Jesus.

The Christian message isn't that sufficiently religious people can eventually work their way into God's presence.

It is that God came looking for us.

Jesus entered our world, lived among ordinary people and welcomed those whom respectable society frequently pushed aside.

Ultimately, Christians believe Jesus gave His life on the cross to deal with the sin that separates humanity from God, and rose again so that reconciliation with God could become possible.

We don't earn our way into God's presence.

Jesus opens the way.

That changes worship completely.

Worship isn't an attempt to persuade a distant God to notice us.

It is a response to the God who has already reached towards us.

We worship because He created.

Because He loves.

Because He saves.

Because He welcomes.

And because through Jesus, ordinary people can know Him.

Come as you are — but come expecting something

Perhaps that gives us a different way of thinking about Sunday mornings.

Church doesn't have to be spectacular.

The band doesn't need a recording contract.

The room doesn't need thousands of people.

The speaker doesn't need to be famous.

There might be thirty people.

Someone might press the wrong button.

The technology might misbehave.

Children might make noise.

Someone will probably forget something.

And there may even be far too much laughter for an ordinary church.

That's okay.

Because worship was never supposed to be a performance.

Church is a community of imperfect people gathering around a perfect God.

And perhaps the question we should carry with us isn't:

“Was church good today?”

Or:

“Did I like the songs?”

Or even:

“Did I enjoy the sermon?”

Perhaps there is a better question:

“Did I come ready to meet with God?”

Because the extraordinary claim at the heart of Christianity is that the Creator behind everything we see — from the first birdsong of the morning to a universe beyond our comprehension — is not simply powerful.

He is personal.

He knows us.

He loves us.

And He invites us to know Him.

Want to explore faith?

You don't need to have everything worked out before you start exploring Christianity.

If you're curious about Jesus, have questions about God, or simply want to understand what Christians actually believe, CHCC would love to explore those questions with you.

Come along on a Sunday, join one of our opportunities to explore the Christian faith, or simply get in touch and arrange a coffee and a conversation.

Questions are welcome. You don't have to pretend. And you don't need to have all the answers before you begin.