More good stuff from Luke. He preached this meditation on worship at Crosspoint Church in Seattle recently. 

Back for another round of liturgical ponderings. This week: The Scripture in the service. I could go on and on lamenting the fact that the Bible is just not read in contemporary worship services. But I think most of you already know this. It's depressing. When pastors and church leaders wonder why their congregations seem so biblically illiterate, the first thing I think they should ask is, "How are we emphasizing the importance of Scripture in the worship service?" For this will inevitably set the precendence and the church will follow suit.

One of the primary things that the early church did was gather on the Lord's day to read the scriptures; it was a part of the attending to the apostle's doctrine (Acts 2:42). Thus as various liturgies developed over time a lectionary calendar developed with Old Testament Lessons, New Testament Epistle Readings, and a reading from the Gospels. Additionally, there was always a Psalm associated with each Sunday, though I prefer to put this in the beginning as a Call to Worship or a Collect that forms part of opening prayer. The Revised Common Lectionary with its variations is still a part of the formal liturgy for most Catholics, Orthodox, Lutherans, Methodists, and Anglicans which covers the Bible in three years. Most independents, Presbyterians and Baptists have developed their own reading schedule that is normally nothing more than the text that the preacher is covering (at least this has been my experience).

Whatever tradition you hail from, I would encourage you to have a healthy dose of the word of God in your service. The bible is anything but boring. Yes, you may have lectors reading it in a boring fashion. Problem solved: get better readers or better yet, spend some time actually teaching people how to read the Scripture in public (enunciation, speed, projecting the voice with good and varied inflection, and definitely, make sure they spend some time learning the proper pronounciation of Hebrew and Greek names and places beforehand - a pet peeve of mine, sorry).

In my upcoming album, Divine Service, I set out to put music in the order of an actual liturgy. I thought of actually just recording a reading of Scripture to emphasize the place where this would occur, but instead opted to write a song that was preparatory in function and emphasized the word of God lyrically. It is called "Your Truth, My Light" and is sort of a summary of Psalm 119. This was the first song I've written where I only use a four chord pattern and it never changes throughout the song. All the goodness and variety comes from changes in melody and ryhthm. It was a fun experiment that turned out really well.

Great Memory Verse on this Subject:

"Your word is a lamp to my feet  and a light for my path" (Psalm 119:105)

Great Book on this Subject:

Handling the Word of Truth: The Law and Gospel in the Church Today by John T. Pless

"I, a poor miserable sinner..." or so begins one of my favorite confessions of sin in our service book. In a culture bathed in self-help and "your best life now" true Christianity stands in direct opposition declaring that all have sinned, there is none righteous (Rom 3). At its most basic level the Christian faith can be summed up with the phrase: The forgiveness of sins through Jesus Christ. Certainly it is bigger in scope than this, but without this vital truth, it is mere religion and worth nothing.

So it should come as no surprise that one of my favorite weekly elements of the liturgy is the confession of sin and absolution (or declaration of pardon, for my Reformed brethren). I like, especially, that it acts as a preparatory element near the very beginning of our service as it releases in me a true sense of thanksgiving and joy, freeing me to worship wholeheartedly, because I am reminded that I have been washed in the blood of Christ and that my sins are nailed to his cross for it in that special time I am a man weighed down by my repeated failures. When it is declared by my pastor that God has forgiven my wrongs and shortcomings, I do not just think the slate is wiped clean. It actually is! Hallelujah!

The Didache, one of the earliest documents discussing Christian worship, admonishes, "Assemble on the day of the Lord, break bread and celebrate the Eucharist; but first confess your sins, that your sacrifice my be holy." As the church grew, it is unfortunate that the priesthood of all believers and the saving work of Christ's atoning work alone became subverted and confused during the late Patristic period and suffered further corruption during the Middle Ages. The Reformers appreciated the value of a preparatory confession, but they could not retain much of the existing liturgical forms because of their impurity in soliciting forgiveness from Mary or the saints vice Christ. Thus, you will find varying prayers in Protestant churches. One of the most common reads:

Almighty God, our Maker and Redeemer, we poor sinners confess to You, that we are by nature sinful and unclean, and that we have sinned against You by thought, word, and deed. Therefore we flee for refuge to Your infinite mercy, seeking and imploring your grace, for the sake of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Simple and right to the point. Why should God forgive us? Not for what we bring, as the old hymn puts it, simply to the cross I cling. In other words, for the "sake of our Lord Jesus Christ." In my upcoming album I wanted a song that spoke of this truth as a joyful response to being pardoned. I struggled finding the right words and setting them to an appropriate arrangement. I finally settled on a short hymn by Charles Wesley entitled, Depth of Mercy, updating and rearranging the words to fit a verse/chorus pattern and setting it to my own tune that is built around a simple string arpeggio and cahon beat. Chris later added some horns, piano and cellos as the song builds. I haven't found a way to play it live, yet, but look forward to trying it at some point. For a great article on this topic for worship planners, head over to the Calvin Institute of Worship, here.

Great verse to memorize on this topic:

"If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:8-9)

Book Recommendation on the topic of Sin:

Original Sin: Illuminating the Riddle by Henri Blocher

Every worship service has to begin somewhere, and for most in the liturgical tradition, this is with either a Call to Worship or Invocation. Technically, they are not the same, but often we treat them as one thing. In my tradition the pastor begins with, "In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit." Here we are reminded of the words that were pronounced upon us through the baptismal waters, when we were made partakers of God's family. The call to worship is just that - the liturgist or worship leader or pastor - in a variety of ways, calls the congregation to fall before God's presence in collective worship as Creator, King, and Savior. Typically, this is through a Psalm reminding the parishoners of why they are there in the first place.

There is an ancient way of doing this that I really like called the Sursum Corda. The liturgist declares: "Lift up your Hearts!" and the congregation responds, "We lift them up the Lord!" This is the church's version of the baseball phrase, "Heads up." The Sursum Corda is a way of saying, wake up, get ready, we've gathered in the name and for the purpose of bringing honor to our Father God and the Lord Jesus Christ.

In the upcoming Tales of Thomas album, Divine Service, I begin the album with a Psalm of Invocation called, "Lord, Open our Lips", based in part on Psalm 51:15ff. This is followed by a call to worship based on the well worn Psalm 95 called Venite (or Song of Triumph). Both songs are piano and string driven. I've had opportunity to play them live in a couple settings and I'm happy they have gone over very well, which I was thankful for, because the bridge in Venite takes an unexpected turn into something akin to Hebrew polka? I know. Sounds weird, but its pretty fun to sing and play.

Next post, I'll comment on the happy topic of confessing our sin and receiving absolution (or forgiveness if you don't like that term).

From SRR Artist and Seminarian Luke Morton's Spring Newsletter:

This week I have been preparing to lead worship for the upcoming Sunday (May 25). While putting together the liturgy I had one of those moments where you think, "What am I doing right now?" Not only is the worship of a holy God a nearly insane concept (apart from Christ), but it also flies in the face of so many beliefs in our society. Why would you gather on a Sunday morning and sing songs together? How could you sit and listen to someone speaking authoritatively from a book thousands of years old? What value could there be in gathering around a table, talking about things like suffering, blood, atonement and resurrection? Isn't all this weird?

Then, coming out of this swirl of questions I thought, "But this is truth and life and though it does in fact seem alien to a world without Jesus, nothing could be sweeter."

Over the next few weeks I'll start posting some devotional thoughts and background trivia on subjects surrounding various elements that comprise the majority of Sunday liturgies. I know "liturgy" is an old-fashioned word and not much in favor with a lot of evangelical churches as it smacks of being too Catholic or something, but I prefer the term and hope we can reclaim it for a new day. After all, liturgy is a Greek term composed of two words, leitos, which means "public" or "the people's", and ergon meaning, "work". In the early days of the church leitourgein was used to represent a "service to the state", but over time it gained a particular broad Christian usage in regards to public service (see Luke 1:23, Acts 13:2, 2 Cor. 9:12, Phil. 2:17 and Heb. 9:21). By the 5th century it was relegated solely to acts of ritual or gathered worship.

Every church has a liturgy, or order of service, even though they may not use the term. If you sing two hymns, sit for a sermon, pray, pass the offering plate, sing three more hymns and listen to some announcements THAT is your liturgy. It may not be very well thought out, but it is a liturgy nonetheless. Behind every liturgy is a theology. As Van der Leeuw put it, "Touch the finger of liturgy and you get the whole hand of theology." The elements and content of that which makes up your order of service each week are largely that which you find most important theologically. And like it or not, the liturgy will train your congregation over time to think accordingly. The prayers, readings, sermon and music will have a long-term and profound effect upon your parishioners. We'll begin with a simple subject. 

The Prelude

Every church has its own distinctive flavor when it comes to gathering for worship. Some encourage the quiet entrance and reflective prayer of coming before a holy God; others prefer the joyful exuberance of meeting with fellow brothers and sisters in the fellowship and grace of the Lord, and so emphasize this truth with hugs, handshakes and general merriment. Both are appropriate responses with scriptural support, so I won’t judge which is right for your congregation.

In either case, it has been appropriate during this pre-worship gathering for a prelude to be playing softly in the background. I personally like to say my hellos quietly to those sitting in the pews nearest us and then silently prepare my heart in prayer during this time (when I’m not shushing my five-year old to be quiet), and I’ve found that a reflective piece of music, or in my present congregation, a church bell prelude, are a helpful means of stimulating this time of reflection. I’ve also employed DJs during the prelude/postlude to spin ethereal down tempo, which has worked really well, too; although this idea may take a bit for the older members of your congregation to warm up to.

Whatever style or instrument you employ, it should be appropriate for the nature of coming together before God and fit in with the overall context of your church’s liturgy. Musically it is best if you can modulate the prelude to the key of your opening hymn or call to worship so it flows quite naturally. Music, as Martin Luther regarded it, has an inspiring, creative power and desired to see it, with all the arts, “in the service of him who has given and created them.” (Preface to Walther’s hymnbook, 1524). Next post we'll look at the Invocation (Call to Worship). Grace and peace.

Most in the world of worship have heard about, or even read, Sally Morganthaler's popular book Worship Evangelism. It was extolled as the must-have book for understanding missional or emerging (re-imagined) worship experiences. I read it several years too late and while I enjoyed her diagnosis of both traditional and contemporary worship, I felt her prescription could come off as just a repackaged, cooler version of what 90's passe contemporary worship had already become for younger generations. Based upon an article I just read by Ms. Morganthaler it looks like she agrees. After spending time speaking at churches across the country, it became apparent to her that re-imagined worship had already become formulaic and wasn't making a dent into the culture because they can sniff out faux worship like hound dogs.

Though she states in the article that for mission to truly occur it has go outside the door of the sanctuary, and while I can say "amen" to that, I don't think we have to chuck out doxalogical evangelism all together. Perhaps Robert Webber was on to something with his ancient-future series of books. Maybe the language of worship transcends an ever-fluid culture and the key is not just changing for the sake of changing, but adopting a posture that allows for both a connection to the past and the present. Tradition does not have to equal traditionalism; ritual does not have to become ritualism.

Postmodernity is swimming in an abyss - never quite touching down, as if suspended in mid-air; and many long for a degree of rootedness; knowing that the service they perform on Sunday goes a little farther back than just the latest Dove awards show. Additionally, when you open up an older prayer book from any tradition you are struck by how much scripture and prayer used to saturate older services. Now I am a musician and I know this is going to sound sacreligious, but what if we took a song (or two) and replaced them with readings from the scripture and corporate prayer (and by corporate prayer I mean everyone prays together so it is participatory and communal)?  Just a thought.

Check-out the full article here.

What is the difference between Old and New Testament Worship? What are we supposed to be about on Sunday? Why? Evangelical heavyweights, Don Carson and Tony Payne, discuss the nature of Biblical worship below. I've swiped the conversation from the "Beginning with Moses" website, which is a great source of articles and reviews on a variety of topics related to Biblical Theology. I particularly like Carson's disdain for the title "worship leader".

From, Beginning with Moses....

TP: What does the Bible say about what we call 'worship'?

DC: In large terms, I do agree with David Peterson (in his book Engaging With God) and others who have argued that the move from worship under the Old Covenant to the New, is the move from the temple-centred cultus of sacrifice and designated priesthood and high feasts and holy times, to a stance where worship under the New Covenant is bound up with the limitless extent of the gospel. You have Romans 12:1-2, for exam­ple, where cultic sacrificial language is used to say that the offering of our whole selves is at the heart of Christian worship.

Of course there were individual prayers, and individual expressions of worship in the Old Testament - none of that is being denied. But the locus of worship in the Old Testament was bound up in the cultic system; in the New Testament it is bound up with offering all of our lives all the time to God. It can then play out in a variety of ways. We are constantly in the pres­ence of the Lord, according to Hebrews 12, presupposed also in Ephesians, and worked out in Romans as well. Paul sees his 'priestly ministry' in Romans 15 as being expressed in evangelism. In John 4, likewise, Jesus says that those who worship him must do so in spirit and in truth. Sometimes we have reduced that to meaning something like 'we must worship him truly and with the help of the Spirit' or something like that. But it's more focused than that ­ it's set against the woman's debate about whether the Samaritans have the right place of worship (at Gerazim and Ebal) or whether the Jews have it right in Jerusalem. Jesus says that this whole geographical debate is now superseded. True worship now is in 'spirit and truth'. Now in the context of John's Gospel, the true worshipper is one who obeys the gospel of Christ, who recognizes that Jesus is the very manifestation of the Truth. And you also have the time of the coming of the Spirit, who transcends all geo­graphical limitations.

Likewise, Paul says (whatever you think about Sabbath and Sunday) that "one man views one day as more sacred than another; another man considers every day alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind". It is impossible to imagine that kind of thing being said under the terms of the Old Covenant. The sense of cultic sacred time and space is bro­ken down under the terms and cate­gories of the New Testament.

Having said all that, however, we have to be careful not to go too far. Howard Marshall argues that what we do in church is not to come together to worship (since worship is what we do in all our lives), but to be instructed. David Peterson says that we come together to edify one another.

I don't deny they have a point, but I don't quite like the antithesis. Some people do say that we come together in order to worship, and this does sug­gest that worship is the name given to the thing we do on Sunday morning at eight o'clock, rather than what we do all week. This approach reintroduces the 'sacred space, sacred time' thing that forgets the nature of the New Covenant. This is clearly a problem. However, the response can be so strong the other way that it can sound as if whatever we do on Sunday morn­ing is not worship.

Now I know what they're saying, and the texts they're appealing to, but I would want to say that if worship is to embrace all of our lives, as we offer ourselves in grateful service to him con­stantly, in obedience and evangelism, and in all things, then when we come together we worship corporately, just as we have been doing individually and in our families during the week. Worship continues ... but corporately. Within that framework, there is room for instruction, edification, the Lord's Supper, sharing with one another, con­fessing sins, prayers, singing, and so on. If we ask what the New Testament Christians did in their gatherings, these things would be included.

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Written by Joachim Neander (1650-1680)

Joachim Neander is considered one of the greatest Calvinist song-writers of the 17^th century. He composed about 60 hymns in total during his ministry and almost every one of them is a triumphant exaltation to praise the Lord, following the tradition of many psalms. This inspiring hymn was a loose translation of Psalm 103:1-6, where the Psalmist exhorts himself to “bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy Name.”

Great worship songs focus on two questions: Who is God? What has He done? This hymn is an excellent example of one that answers both:

Who is God? The hymn answers: The Almighty King of creation; Thy health and salvation. What has He done? He wondrously reigns; shelters us under His wings; gently sustains us; grants what He ordains; brings relief in times of grief.

We would do well to follow Neander’s advice and let all that is in within us adore such a God.

Written by Francis of Assisi (1182-1226)

All of creation reveals the majesty of God and brings glory to his name. This was the steady message of an Italian monk named Francis of Assisi. In the year 1225, he wrote “All Creatures of our God and King” based in part on Psalm 145. Throughout his life, St. Francis appreciated the importance of music in the church. He wrote more than 60 hymns for his monastery. Along with this hymn, one of his prayers has endured throughout the centuries that I have often prayed myself:

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love.

Where there is injury, pardon.

Where there is discord, unity.

Where there is doubt, faith.

Where there is error, truth.

Where there is despair, hope.

Where there is sadness, joy.

Where there is darkness, light.

For it is in giving, that we receive.

It is in pardoning, that we are pardoned.

It is in dying, that we are born to eternal life.

“All Your works shall give thanks to you, O Lord, and all your saints shall bless you. They shall speak of the glory of Your Kingdom and tell of Your power.” Psalm 145:10-11