I feel strangely unmoored this weekend. La Donna is away for a UMW meeting again. Maddie is off dancing at her studio. Rhys is tucked away with games somewhere in the house. The dogs are recovering from the goose stalker on the pond (long story). But probably most disconcerting is that I am not preparing a sermon for tomorrow.
Oh, I’ll be there. And I’m looking forward to what Chris will share with us at worship. But after so many years, so many services, so many sermons, there is just something wrong ... no, not wrong ... just ...not ... right. Hmm. I seem to be at a loss for words here.
You know that feeling. That something is just out of place. Something is broken, or out sync. The funny wheel on the shopping cart. The tiny stone in the shoe. You just limp along feeling out of sorts. And when someone asks you if everything is ok, you don’t even know how to answer. Because nothing is wrong, really. Just not ... right.
Or maybe you do know. Maybe there was a word spoken that you wish could un-speak. Maybe there was a effort you should have made but didn’t, and now it is too late. Maybe there was a response you should have held in, an event you should have acknowledged, a call you should have made. Maybe your brokenness lies heavy on your heart today.
Whichever, whether known or unknown, the feeling of disconnect is very real. What we need is not explanation, but antidote. And where better to turn than to worship. At least that is the suggestion of the Psalm for this week. Take a look:
Psalm 51:1-17 Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. 2 Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. 3 For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. 4 Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight, so that you are justified in your sentence and blameless when you pass judgment. 5 Indeed, I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me. 6 You desire truth in the inward being; therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart. 7 Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. 8 Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that you have crushed rejoice. 9 Hide your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities. 10 Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me. 11 Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me. 12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit. 13 Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you. 14 Deliver me from bloodshed, O God, O God of my salvation, and my tongue will sing aloud of your deliverance. 15 O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise. 16 For you have no delight in sacrifice; if I were to give a burnt offering, you would not be pleased. 17 The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.
Wait a minute, you are thinking. How is that about worship? It is about sinfulness and the need for confession. Yes, and ...? It is about the separation from God and the need to be cleansed. Right, and ...? It is about guilt, heavy burdensome guilt and the need for restoration to joy. Certainly, and ...?
And what? You are getting on my nerves with all this “and?” stuff. Where are we going here, what is the point that is being pointedly pointed at? Or something.
Where do you go for restoration to joy? Where do you go to be purged and made clean? Where do you go for a new heart? Worship, of course. The purpose of worship is to glorify God. And the result of worship that glorifies God is to reconcile the worshiper with the Presence. For reconciliation to take place cleansing must occur. For cleansing to occur an open heart must be offered. For an open heart to be offered, a hunger must be acknowledged.
When we come to worship hungry, then something happens, we are transformed, we are healed, we are made clean. We are made right with God, and then it becomes possible to be made right with one another. That is why we worship as a body, so that the effect of our worship can be felt between us as well as within us.
That is what is missing when we are missing from worship. That is the “not right” feeling that we get when we are away from the body. Many have spoken to me about that lack, that unsettled feeling that we get when we miss worship for whatever reason. It is hard to name sometimes, but it is real. The truth is we can have that feeling even when we are present in worship. Because presence doesn’t always mean engagement. Presence doesn’t always mean coming hungry. We are so filled up by the busyness of this life that we forget how hungry we really are. We forget to seek the face that defines us, that accepts us, that loves us with a love almost beyond description. We think we are self-sufficient, when in fact we are anything but. We are needy. We are often empty. We are hungry for that word of acceptance, of unconditional love. We are hungry for meaning and direction and hope.
And our unspoken fear is that the one we seek this from won’t offer it. That we are somehow not worthy. That we are too dirty to be made clean. Too broken to be made whole. Too rotten to be made healthy. And that feeling of disconnect is not just inside us, it is from that source and we are cast away from all that will make us “right.”
The Psalmist feels that too. And yet there is a plea, there is a hope, there is a remembrance of wholeness and joy. So, the psalmist seeks it, even as we seek it. The psalmist worships even as we worship. That we might be made right again.
Create in me a clean heart, O Lord, and put a new and right spirit within me. That’s our prayer, our theme for worship. Then our lips will open and our mouths will declare praise. Come and worship, come hungry and worship with joy. Amen.
Oh, I’ll be there. And I’m looking forward to what Chris will share with us at worship. But after so many years, so many services, so many sermons, there is just something wrong ... no, not wrong ... just ...not ... right. Hmm. I seem to be at a loss for words here.
You know that feeling. That something is just out of place. Something is broken, or out sync. The funny wheel on the shopping cart. The tiny stone in the shoe. You just limp along feeling out of sorts. And when someone asks you if everything is ok, you don’t even know how to answer. Because nothing is wrong, really. Just not ... right.
Or maybe you do know. Maybe there was a word spoken that you wish could un-speak. Maybe there was a effort you should have made but didn’t, and now it is too late. Maybe there was a response you should have held in, an event you should have acknowledged, a call you should have made. Maybe your brokenness lies heavy on your heart today.
Whichever, whether known or unknown, the feeling of disconnect is very real. What we need is not explanation, but antidote. And where better to turn than to worship. At least that is the suggestion of the Psalm for this week. Take a look:
Psalm 51:1-17 Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. 2 Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. 3 For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. 4 Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight, so that you are justified in your sentence and blameless when you pass judgment. 5 Indeed, I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me. 6 You desire truth in the inward being; therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart. 7 Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. 8 Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that you have crushed rejoice. 9 Hide your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities. 10 Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me. 11 Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me. 12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit. 13 Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you. 14 Deliver me from bloodshed, O God, O God of my salvation, and my tongue will sing aloud of your deliverance. 15 O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise. 16 For you have no delight in sacrifice; if I were to give a burnt offering, you would not be pleased. 17 The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.
Wait a minute, you are thinking. How is that about worship? It is about sinfulness and the need for confession. Yes, and ...? It is about the separation from God and the need to be cleansed. Right, and ...? It is about guilt, heavy burdensome guilt and the need for restoration to joy. Certainly, and ...?
And what? You are getting on my nerves with all this “and?” stuff. Where are we going here, what is the point that is being pointedly pointed at? Or something.
Where do you go for restoration to joy? Where do you go to be purged and made clean? Where do you go for a new heart? Worship, of course. The purpose of worship is to glorify God. And the result of worship that glorifies God is to reconcile the worshiper with the Presence. For reconciliation to take place cleansing must occur. For cleansing to occur an open heart must be offered. For an open heart to be offered, a hunger must be acknowledged.
When we come to worship hungry, then something happens, we are transformed, we are healed, we are made clean. We are made right with God, and then it becomes possible to be made right with one another. That is why we worship as a body, so that the effect of our worship can be felt between us as well as within us.
That is what is missing when we are missing from worship. That is the “not right” feeling that we get when we are away from the body. Many have spoken to me about that lack, that unsettled feeling that we get when we miss worship for whatever reason. It is hard to name sometimes, but it is real. The truth is we can have that feeling even when we are present in worship. Because presence doesn’t always mean engagement. Presence doesn’t always mean coming hungry. We are so filled up by the busyness of this life that we forget how hungry we really are. We forget to seek the face that defines us, that accepts us, that loves us with a love almost beyond description. We think we are self-sufficient, when in fact we are anything but. We are needy. We are often empty. We are hungry for that word of acceptance, of unconditional love. We are hungry for meaning and direction and hope.
And our unspoken fear is that the one we seek this from won’t offer it. That we are somehow not worthy. That we are too dirty to be made clean. Too broken to be made whole. Too rotten to be made healthy. And that feeling of disconnect is not just inside us, it is from that source and we are cast away from all that will make us “right.”
The Psalmist feels that too. And yet there is a plea, there is a hope, there is a remembrance of wholeness and joy. So, the psalmist seeks it, even as we seek it. The psalmist worships even as we worship. That we might be made right again.
Create in me a clean heart, O Lord, and put a new and right spirit within me. That’s our prayer, our theme for worship. Then our lips will open and our mouths will declare praise. Come and worship, come hungry and worship with joy. Amen.
Shalom,
Derek
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