A discussion on music and worship
Last Sunday I preached on the purpose of worship. Preaching from Genesis 1 v.26 – 2 v.7, I talked about it as:
Instinct – we have a genetic inclination to worship every bit as internalized as a pigeon’s homing instinct or a border collie’s instinct to herd things. Some express it in a football stadium, feeling their spirit soar with 20 or 30,000 home fans as the deciding goal is scored. Some feel it at a gig as they press nearer and nearer the main stage until their rib cage shakes and shoes vibrate with the sound. Others climb up and up and up the highest peak until they feel they can all but touch the sky. These things are not the kind of worship which engage heart and mind in an intentional encounter with God, but they are evidence of a worship instinct.
Integration – to truly worship God, the creator of all things, integrates us more with the rest of the created order than any other form of human activity. This is part of what Pope Francis was driving at in his encyclical, published last week:
If we no longer speak the language of fraternity and beauty in our relationship with the world, our attitude will be that of masters, consumers, ruthless exploiters, unable to set limits on their immediate needs. By contrast, if we feel intimately united with all that exists, then sobriety and care will well up spontaneously
In these few verses of Genesis we have the most perfect picture of integration between humankind and nature ever painted. In truth, the whole of Scripture between that passage and the last word of Revelation is one long held breath as we await a return to the face-to-face worship for which we were purpose built.
Interim – in the meantime, we have worship as we know it now – imperfect, beset by little battles of taste and bigger divides of theology, and yet something without which we cannot survive. For now, it is what we have and we do it as honestly and hopefully and humbly as we can.
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So far, so theological. On Monday morning I sat down in my office with one of the country’s finest worship leaders and songwriters. We made for quite a pair – him in his artfully ripped jeans and me in my pressed trousers. Where I wore striped shirt and tie he wore a designer t-shirt. His fishtail coat and woolly hat hung on the back of the chair, and my raincoat hung downstairs. We could not have been more different. And yet, we had one fundamental similarity. Worship has transformed us and is transforming us still. We share a frustration with mediocrity and a hunger for depth in every encounter with God. Faced with such things, every detail of age, background and style becomes no more significant than the wallpaper music playing in a lift as it moves you between floors. Moving, or rather being moved by God is what the conversation was all about…and I thank God for it.
