On Postures in Worship

We recently started an all-church prayer meeting on Wednesday nights. When we arrived, we saw cushions on the floor. They were there so that we could kneel as we prayed, if we wished. Our leader, Andrew Allen, explained that the posture of kneeling signifies that we humbly present our requests to the Lord. The prophet Daniel, for example, kneeled to pray (Dan. 6:10). In fact the Bible often talks about postures in worship.

The Bible also says we can pray standing up, lifting our eyes toward heaven. Psalm 123 begins "I lift up my eyes to you, to you whose throne is in heaven." There is a hint in Luke 18:13 that Israelites often lifted their eyes toward God when they prayed, to show they sought his help.

The Bible also recommends that we lift our hands toward God.

Psalm 28:2 says, "Hear my cry for mercy as I call to you for help, as I lift up my hands toward your Most Holy Place." We can also lift our hands in praise. Psalms 63:4 says: "I will praise you as long as I live, and in your name I will lift up my hands." Psalm 134:2 commands, "Lift up your hands in the sanctuary and praise the LORD."

We can lift our hands to God, showing we long to hear his commands (Psalm 119:48). Finally, as Jesus lifted up his hands to bless his disciples in Luke 24:50, we can lift our eyes to heaven, to ask God's blessing (Psalm 121:11).

The lesson is that worship can and perhaps should be a whole- body experience. We use our voices to sing and read in unison, but when we lift our eyes or hands to God, we may feel our body agreeing with and strengthening what is in our heart and mind: We turn to God for his word, his aid and blessing.

(posted by Robbie for) Dan

When I was a young musician first learning to play jazz, it seemed to me an incredibly free, beautiful, yet altogether mysterious form of expression. I would listen and wonder to myself: “How do they know which notes to play?” But in spite of the mystery, I could hear shapes and order and form. It made sense; in fact, it sounded to me like its own kind of language. Indeed, when listening to other kinds of music (classical, rock, blues, etc), it was obvious that each of them was distinct in its own special way. They each had their own “vocabulary”. They used all the same notes, but in very different ways and combinations, so that you could hear not only the personality of the musical style, but even of the individual musicians themselves. The “jazz” of John Coltrane is as immediately recognizable as the “classical” music of Beethoven. They each have their own language, their own voice.

How did they get there? Hearing a discernible language was one thing, but learning to speak it was another. Nonetheless, I managed to learn the way most jazz musicians do, through a process of imitation, assimilation, and ultimately innovation. That is to say, I had to start by mimicking what someone else had played, one laborious note at a time. Each song, each individual musician, had a different voice, and as I learned to play what they were playing and assimilate it all together, I eventually began to develop my own voice. I learned to speak “jazz”.

The Psalms help us learn to praise God by giving us a vocabulary for it. The beauty of this is the way it shapes our affections, our emotions, our mind, our heart. The Psalms give full voice to the entire range of human experience, but they are constantly driving and plowing that experience into God. I remember early in my Christian life, thinking to myself, “I should be able to tell God that I love him,” and yet feeling that it would have been insincere and hence untrue of me to do so. Yet as I learned to pray through the Psalms, they gave me a vocabulary for praising and loving God that ended up being the medium through which my love for him became real. Although I started with “imitation”, that eventually helped me to internalize what I was praying, and the more I did that, the more it became ingrained into the vocabulary of my soul, so that in less premeditated moments, when a situation in life would just hit me, what came out of my heart was what I had been plowing into it for weeks and months: the Psalms.

But it wasn’t necessarily any particular Psalm. It wasn’t like I was learning memory verses from the Bible to be rehearsed at will (although that is a good thing, too). I was learning to speak Psalm-ese. They have just become a part of who I am in and before God. And although the number of words are finite, the depth of meaning and application is infinite. This means that I will always be in the cycle of imitation and assimilation, with occasional moments where the Psalms pray me, instead of me praying them. Once in a while, innovation happens. But I believe that at those moments, I am an instrument in God’s hands, and that he is the great Innovator. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name!

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Psalms of Lament: You Need Them Whether You Like It or Not

“Man, that worship service was a real downer.”

Over the years, I have heard this complaint about a sermon or music played at a service that was somber or heavy in feel. Our culture tends to emphasis the brighter feelings of happiness and celebration and we feel uncomfortable with grief and sorrow. So, when a religious service has that heavier tone, we don’t usually respond with approval. I have noticed over the years that even at funerals… surely the most appropriate setting for grief… that people want to ‘celebrate’ the life of the deceased and not mourn their passing.

I don’t mean to imply that we should not ‘celebrate’ a person’s life at a funeral or that worship services shouldn’t be a time of celebration. My point is that we don’t like entertaining sad thoughts and feelings.

Yet, in God’s song book… the Psalms… the psalm of lament is the most common kind of psalm. It is the emotion most commonly expressed. Why? First, life in ancient times was full of hardship and heartbreak. Infant morality was high. Disease and famine were common. Foreign powers often invaded and plundered (is this much different than the news we watch everyday?). God wanted his people to bring that to Him. When I see a long face on my son, I call my child to me and say, “tell me what’s on your heart and mind.” And here is a taste of how God's children responded:

Psalm 13
1 How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
2 How long must I take counsel in my soul
and have sorrow in my heart all the day?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

Are these sentiments appropriate for worship? Are the appropriate in any setting? Whether they are ‘appropriate’ or not… whether we comfortable with these feelings or not… we have them. In fact, we have them quite often. Bottling them up inside or denying them doesn’t change that fact.

But God’s grace creates a context where we have the freedom to express even ‘inappropriate’ feeling that in meeting with God honestly… whether in stated worship or in private… He might address our questions and hurt… that he might transform the pain into something beautiful, just as He turned the torture of the cross into the triumph of resurrection.

Do you trust God enough to be your ugly and wounded self with Him? Do you have the courage to worship through the laments of the Psalms? In that uncomfortable and ‘downer’ moment, you might find that something amazing might happen.

The Season of Lent & Psalm 51

This Sunday the colors at the front of the church will have changed from green to purple. These colors mark the seasons of the church year that are designed to help us remember the story of Jesus’s life, the Gospel. Having traveled through Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany, we come to the next chapter of the story, the season called Lent.

For some Lent may be off-putting and bring to mind nothing but empty religious rituals. Like all good things, it can and has been used wrongly (just as Christmas is used for commercialism). However, Lent is not intended to be about our own religiosity and yearly rituals to sort of earn our keep in the church. Instead, Lent is about Christ and his work for our salvation. In particular, Lent is intended to be like the season of Advent. Just as Advent prepares for the incarnation of Jesus at Christmas, so Lent prepares for the resurrection of Jesus at Easter. Lent is meant to point us to the grace of Christ, not to the supposed worthiness of our own piety.

Like all the seasons of the church year, Lent points us to Christ’s grace by marking certain events in his life. Lent focuses on several events: Jesus’s conversation with the religious leader Nicodemus when he challenges Nicodemus’s self-sufficient religion and explains that salvation comes only through Christ’s sacrificial death (John 3:1-17); Jesus’s encounter with the woman at the well when he calls her away from promiscuous living to find her fulfillment in him who gives “living water” (John 4:5-52); Jesus’s healing of the man born blind evidencing God’s Kingdom breaking in (John 9:1-41); Jesus’s resurrecting of his friend Lazarus as a taste of the new creation to be established at Christ’s own resurrection (John 11:1-45); and finally the events of Holy Week (Palm Sunday through Easter) leading up to Christ’s death.

The primary event Lent remembers, though, is the Temptation of Christ (Matthew 4:1-11; Mark 1:9-13; Luke 4:1-13) in which he fasted for 40 days in the wilderness in preparation for ministry, was tempted by the devil, and successfully resisted the temptation of the devil. The significance of this event is that Christ succeeded where we failed. Humanity gave in to the temptation of the evil one (Genesis 3) and brought death and destruction upon ourselves. Christ resisted the evil one and brings life and renewal to all who will follow him. Lent, therefore, is a season of admitting our own failures and longing for the victory of Christ. This is the way in which Lent is a time of preparation for Easter. We’re preparing to celebrate Christ’s resurrection by finding out how much we need it to be true.

This is why Lent has traditionally been a season of repentance and confession. Like Nicodemus, we are full of worthless religion. Like the woman at the well, we are looking in fulfillment in all the wrong places. Like the man born blind, we are broken as soon as life begins. Like Lazarus, we are dead in the grave with no hope of raising ourselves. As Beth F. Jones say, “we can no longer hide the truth about ourselves: that we are God’s creatures, that we are broken, that the spotless and perfect life is a lie.” Lent is not a season to prove ourselves to be spiritually strong; it’s a season to admit we’re spiritually weak. This sounds so discouraging, but it actually produces joy. The bad news of our sin makes the good news of the Gospel better. As Christ said to Paul, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9).

This is all easier said than done, though. Everyone knows that learning to say "I'm sorry" is very difficult. Often adults are no better at it than children, we've just learned to stylize our excuse giving so that it sounds a little like an apology. God gave us some Psalms however to help us learn to say "I'm sorry." which is exactly what confession is. Psalm 51 is a quintessential example of this and has traditionally been used at the beginning of Lent to set the tone of humility and dependence on grace.

Psalm 51 Miserere mei, Deus (mercy on me, God)

1 Have mercy on me, O God, according to your loving-kindness; in your great compassion blot out my offenses.

2 Wash me through and through from my wickedness and cleanse me from my sin.



3 For I know my transgressions, 
and my sin is ever before me.

4 Against you only have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight.

5 And so you are justified when you speak and upright in your judgment

6 Indeed, I have been wicked from my birth, a sinner from my mother's womb.

7 For behold, you look for truth deep within me, and will make me understand wisdom secretly.

8 Purge me from my sin, and I shall be pure; wash me, and I shall be clean indeed.

9 Make me hear of joy and gladness, that the body you have broken may rejoice.

10 Hide your face from my sins and blot out all my iniquities.

11 Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.

12 Cast me not away from your presence and take not your holy Spirit from me.

13 Give me the joy of your saving help again and sustain me with your bountiful Spirit.

14 I shall teach your ways to the wicked, and sinners shall return to you.

15 Deliver me from death, O God, and my tongue shall sing of your righteousness,
 O God of my salvation.

16 Open my lips, O Lord, and my mouth shall proclaim your praise.

17 Had you desired it, I would have offered sacrifice; but you take no delight in burnt-offerings.

18 The sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

U2 on Psalm 40

Although I often tease Daryl Madi about his 'massive obsession' with U2, his previous post has inspired me to post a link to a song that U2 will often end their concerts with.

It is a song they simply call, "40". Click here for a live video.

Rumor has it that when U2 was finished recording their album War, they had a little extra time left over in the studio. Looking to spark some creativity, Bono opened up a Bible, turned to Psalm 40 and wrote this song in about 10 minutes. The rest of the band quickly learned the song, recorded it, and made "40" on the final track of the album.

The first verse of the song is based on Psalm 40:1-2, and second verse of the song is based on 40:2-3. The chorus is loosely based on 40:3, which reads "He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God..."

I waited patiently for the Lord
He inclined and heard my cry
He brought me up out of the pit
Out of the miry clay

I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song

How long to sing this song?
How long to sing this song?
How long, how long
How long, how long to sing this song?

He set my feet upon a rock
And made my footsteps firm
Many will see
Many will see and fear

I'll be honest, I love this song. I love the artistry of it. I love how droning bass line and chugging drum beat provide a foundation to anchor the soaring melody and searching lyrics. I love the how it seemlessly transitions between thanksgiving (He brought me up out of the pit...), and lament (How Long to sing this Song?), and hope (I will sing, sing a new song).

A good song will often combine a variety of different emotions and experiences with the purpose of juxtaposing them against one another to highlight the differences between each. But this song does something different. "40" merges together a variety of emotions and experiences, not to to show how they contrast one another, but rather to show how they can (and often do) coexist together. This song reminds me that what we feel and what we understand about life is often messy and meandering.

I resonate with this sentiment. "40" reflects my experience of living in a broken world. As a Christian, when I face difficult circumstances, I often feel some sort of mixture of thanksgiving, lament and hope at the same time. I often move between these emotions/experiences several times each day...sometimes even within a simple morning prayer. U2 is picking up what the Psalms and the Scriptures teach us: life in a broken world is often hard to understand.

But, the good news of the Gospel is that we do not have to have life all figured out before we come to Jesus. No, Jesus tells us something altogether different. He says, "Come to me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest (Matt 11:28).

Jesus calls us to come to him with our deepest fears, our biggest doubts, our wandering thoughts. Jesus does not expect us to work them out before we come, but he invites us to come to him, broken as we are, and he promises to give us 'rest'. I love the way Paul Miller puts it - "The criteria for coming to Jesus is weariness. Come overwhelmed with life. Come with wandering mind. Come messy". ('A Praying Life').

I love how "40" captures the prophetical and poetical spirit of the Psalms. But, most of all, I love how this song reminds me that Lord promises to love, hear and heal 'messy' people like me.

A Couple of Related Lectures and Q/A Sessions

In the fall of 2009, Central hosted two Faith and Public Life Lectures relating to the themes of abuse, suffering, and hope. The Psalms are full of these themes, and these lectures address them in meaningful ways.

Check out:

Dr. Dan Doriani
Children at War: Biblical and Personal Reflections on Growing Up in a Violent Home

Lecture Audio
Q/A Audio

Professor Jerram Barrs
Suffering and Hope

Lecture Audio
Q/A Audio

What U2 and I Have in Common: We Need the Psalms

I need the psalms.

I was struck with this idea the other day. It hit me as I was listening to a song by U2: “Magnificent” off the album, No Line on the Horizon. I must confess, I was more than listening to it… I was belting out the tune along with the singer. Despite the fact that I do not have a strong voice (fortunately for me and any others I might have afflicted with my voice, I was alone in the car), I had the need to sing to that song. Hmmm… that’s no quite right. I had a need to pour out something bottled up in my heart and mind and that song helped me get it out.

What does this have to do with the psalms? Well, the song, “Magnificent,” is very much like a psalm of praise. Its similarities are not in its poetic structure or meter. But the sentiments and the author intended audience (God, himself) are exactly the same. “Magnificent” is a praise of God and the reasons we have to praise Him… the healing power of His love and grace.

And as a Christian, I need a way to express my sorrow, my relief, my joy. I was able to do some of that I sang along with that U2 song:

Magnificent
Oh, oh, magnificent

I was born, I was born
To be with you in this space and time
After that and ever after
I haven't had a clue only to break rhyme
This foolishness can leave a heart black and blue, oh, oh

Only love, only love can leave such a mark
But only love, only love can heal such a scar

But the similarities between “Magnificent” and a psalm of praise (Psalm 8 in particular) are no coincidence. The inspiration for songs like “Magnificent” and many other U2 songs are the psalms.

In an earlier entry in this blog, fellow pastor Jay Thomas Hewitt wrote the psalms were like the instruction of a loving parent helping us give “expression to the stifled thoughts and feelings of a child who is blind, deaf, and dumb.” I get bottled up inside and find it difficult to get out all of what I am thinking and feeling. More than this, the fact that I can’t express those thoughts and feelings means they don’t reach their full form. I actually understand my heart better as I am able to express it. I need the psalms.

And since U2 patterned their song after the psalms, it seems they need them, too.