Col 3

While doing an image search for “worship” on the internet, the picture on the cover of our bulletin came up. It’s one of three scenes from a short Australian film with the title, “We Have Decided not to Die.” Besides the man floating above the cars crashing head-on, there’s also a woman who rises from the bottom of a pool into the air, and there’s another man who leaps through a window from one of the top floors of a skyscraper.

I was looking for a picture of worship because, as we’re beginning the new year, it seemed to me that the question, “Why do we worship?” is a good one. This is a time when people make New Year’s resolutions. It’s a time of new beginnings. And it’s a very good time to re-examine what we do.

The depiction of a man avoiding two speeding cars is not what most people would think of as “worship.” Nor would the statement, “We have decided not to die,” appear to be an answer for my question as to why we worship.

Having that picture come up during a search for “worship” seems puzzling. The text that came with the picture, I think, helps clear up the mystery. The film’s director describes the scenes in the movie as almost…rituals of worship. Still, regardless of his interpretation, I found the image and title to be really compelling.

But that wouldn’t have always been the case. When I was younger, the idea of worship being linked with the statement, “We have decided not to die,” would have seemed ridiculous. I used to find the idea of worship repugnant. I thought it was degrading, demeaning; I thought it was for wimps. I couldn’t imagine claiming that I worshipped anything or anyone. And just in case you hadn’t already figured this out, I was really full of myself! (Even more so than now!)

Case in point: my freshman year of college was at St. Edward’s University in Austin, Texas. One night, there was a group of us in the TV lounge when the subject of Jesus Christ came up. Thinking about times he addressed large crowds, I made the very insightful remark that he must have had a booming voice. I didn’t really care too much about Jesus one way or the other; I just figured I’d throw my two cents worth into the conversation.

After my brilliant observation, a student from Miami spoke up. He said words to the effect that it doesn’t matter how Jesus looked or how he sounded—what matters is that we follow him as our Lord. I looked at him, somewhat bewildered, thinking that he takes this stuff seriously. He really means what he says; he’s no wimp! Then the thought popped into my head, “This guy is dangerous.” I steered clear of him from that point on. I think the devil was speaking to me!

I want to address the matter of worship, not simply because we’re entering a new year, but also because our psalm and epistle readings point in that direction, as well.

Psalm 148 begins, “Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord from the heavens; praise him in the heights!” (v. 1). Like many psalms, this one is all about worship. But in addition, we see that God has built worship into creation itself. Verse 3 says, “Praise him, sun and moon; praise him, all you shining stars!”

The earth, the plants, and the animals are called to join in. “Mountains and all hills, fruit trees and all cedars! Wild animals and all cattle, creeping things and flying birds!” (vv. 9-10). And of course, the invitation is to all of humanity. “Kings of the earth and all peoples, princes and all rulers of the earth! Young men and women alike, old and young together! Let them praise the name of the Lord, for his name alone is exalted; his glory is above earth and heaven” (vv. 11-13).

My primary focus, though, is on our epistle reading in Colossians 3. This is part of a longer section in which Paul is drawing a picture for the church in Colossae about what the Christian life looks like. (By the way, Colossae is in the southwestern part of modern day Turkey.) As we get to verse 12, he begins to bring the picture into sharper focus.

It’s verse 16 that deals with worship a little more specifically: “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God.” Essentially, that’s what worship is. It’s directed to God. God is the audience; we are the performers. (So, if you don’t like the sound of my voice when we’re singing, then drown me out! I’m not singing to you; I’m singing to God. At least, I try to!)

Still, more than that one verse, the whole passage describes living in the spirit of worship. Much more than a particular action or series of actions (though it certainly includes that), worship is an attitude, a way of life.

For example, consider verse 13. “Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.” I like the way the New Jerusalem Bible phrases the end of that, and also verse 14: “The Lord has forgiven you; now you must do the same. Over all these clothes, put on love, the perfect bond.”

Bear with one another. The Lord has forgiven you; now you must do the same. And the apostle is talking about clothing. That was a prominent spiritual symbol in the ancient word. In verse 12, he’s already mentioned putting on “compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.” But as a Christian, you aren’t fully dressed until you get one more garment out of the closet—and that’s love.

Love, Paul tells us, is the perfect bond. It binds people together, no matter what their background, no matter what they’ve done. Love is what binds up wounds—even those dreadful lacerations to the soul, even those we gave up hope for healing long ago. And love is what binds us to Christ, who changes lives—even those who think they care nothing for him and believe that worship is for idiots.

In the New Jerusalem Bible, here’s how the first part of verse 16 appears: “Let the Word of Christ, in all its richness, find a home in you. Teach each other, and advise each other, in all wisdom.” We’ll know we’re really beginning to figure out this thing called love when we start doing that!

Commenting on verse 19 of Psalm 119, “I am a stranger on earth,” the American rabbi Abraham Heschel said that those words have been “interpreted to refer to God. God is a stranger in the world. The Shechinah, the presence of God, is in exile. Our task is to bring God back into the world, into our lives. To worship is to expand the presence of God in the world. To have faith in God is to reveal what has been concealed.”[1]

To worship is to expand the presence of God in the world. I like that—but what does it mean? Can we know if we’re doing that?

Moments ago, I said that our scripture reading from Colossians describes living in the spirit of worship. I believe it also describes what it looks like when God’s presence in the world is expanded. I really would like for us to meditate on this passage. Read it slowly. Pray about it. Let it sink in. Let it speak to you. Let it challenge you.

There’s a lot packed into it. I’ll mention something in verse 16: “teach and admonish one another in all wisdom.” That can find expression in many different ways. Still, considering that this is addressed to a community—not only that, to a church—the aspect of relationship enters in.

More specifically, the aspect of relationship with Christ, our bond with Christ, enters in. If we care about that bond, then we need to ask a question about our relationships with friends—and with those closer than friends. And that question is: do our relationships encourage us to walk more closely with Christ? Do the people we invite into our lives lead us to love Jesus more? Or do they quench the spirit of worship within us?

Understand, I’m not speaking of those to whom we want to show God’s love. There’s a difference between that and allowing our own love for the Lord to grow cold.

Let me return to the question I asked at the beginning, “Why do we worship?” Maybe we can see the response, “We have decided not to die,” as not too far off the mark. When the peace of Christ does not rule in our hearts—when we cannot with gratitude in our hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God—then we do start to die inside.

Our friend Rabbi Heschel has similar thoughts. He speaks of our need to “go away from the screech of dissonant days.” In other words, we have to pull our minds out of the noise that is everyday life in America. (Remember what I said last week about the Grinch being on to something with his dislike of noise?)

Let me continue his statement. We need to “go away from the screech of dissonant days…and the betrayal in embezzling [our own lives].”[2] Why do we worship? We do so to avoid embezzling our own lives—to avoid siphoning off our own lives.

It’s possible to care for our physical health, our mental health, and our emotional health, while neglecting our spiritual health. (Though, in a way, all of these are interconnected.) We can look absolutely fabulous on the outside and be absolutely dead on the inside.

God is the best fashion designer. I figured that out after going with Banu to the Bon-Ton. We can accessorize with other names, like Tommy Hilfiger, Vera Bradley, whoever. But they can’t clothe us with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, patience, and certainly not love. They can’t enable us to do, in word or deed, everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

So, why worship? Think of this when you invite someone to join you at church. Maybe it will make sense: we have decided not to die.

[1] A Guide to Prayer, eds. Norman P. Job and Norman Shawchuck (Nashville: Upper Room, 1983), 49.

[2] Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Sabbath (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1951), 13.