Editor's note: This article appears in the most recent edition of byFaith magazine.
byfaithonline.com
By David Desforge
“Do we worship the Rock here or rock’n’roll?”
“It’s hard for me to worship when no one is responsive or expressive. Passion for God is missing.”
“When people raise their hands I can’t see. They’re distracting.”
“What we need is more reverence for God. The worship is much too casual.”
These comments are from our own congregation, regarding the same services. Then there are the comments made by folks from other churches about ours, like:
“They don’t worship over there, they worship lite.”
“That’s the semi-Presbyterian Church.”
“It’s like a circus. They’re more interested in entertaining people than true worship.”
“The songs are simplistic, repetitive, and tiresome.”
And then there are comments I’ve heard our members make about other churches, such as:
“It’s like going to a funeral—there’s no joy in the presence of God.”
“I felt manipulated and pressured to worship their way.”
“The music was slow and dull and too cerebral.”
Many of you have heard or said similar things. However, the diversity or divisiveness in worship goes beyond what may seem like issues of personal taste. Content and methodology have been repeatedly disputed and debated throughout church history, even within our own tradition. Controversies have included matters such as which instruments are acceptable (if any), whether to allow lyrics other than the Psalms, proper dress and décor, the right order of worship or forms of prayer, and a host of other issues.
I confess that until not long ago I was rather resigned to what many call the “worship war”—both within our congregation and between churches. But through a conflict between our church and presbytery over certain practices, some of us have been learning to deal more deeply with the worship war within us. A fellow teaching elder recently presented that lesson well to his session when he asked, “So in light of the fact that we worship so differently, how do we all get along?
Contentiousness over worship is understandable, yet sad. God is vitally interested in how He is worshiped, and carefully regulates it in Scripture. Our zeal to get it right is an appropriate response to God’s own concern and commands.
Still, the contentiousness that exists is truly indefensible. Biblically, the term “worship war” ought to feel oxymoronic—worshiping the source of unity divisively, and increasing the focus upon ourselves. Imagine your family gathering to celebrate your birthday and turning it into a feud over whose wrapping technique is most proper.
Would not God’s grief and indignation be at least as intense regarding our belligerence over worship as our mistreatment of one another in the world?
This, then, has been my joyfully convicting journey: Seeing how fighting for the peace of the church in worship is at one with fighting for the purity of the church in worship.
The War Comes Home
It is often said that war doesn’t mean much until the reality of it hits home. Because my local church’s particular (“contemporary”) worship practices have been controversial, I knew there were some in our presbytery who were uncomfortable and perhaps even offended by our approach. But any disagreement remained unexpressed and dormant until our congregation prepared to plant daughter churches.
In the spring of 2004 our Presbytery met to consider our proposed daughter church. When it came time to vote, such strong objections were raised concerning our worship style (by people I respect but did not know well) that it no longer seemed possible to go forward without distrust and discord. The “worship wars” had come home.
Early in that process, two fellow ministers visited and encouraged me to think with them more deeply about the matter of worship. One describes his worship services as “minimalistic.” The other might call his “centristic.” Our own is often branded contemporary, though our leadership (predictably) finds the term misleading. Labels notwithstanding, we three pastors met consistently every couple of weeks for more than a year.
From the beginning, my “minimalist” brother encouraged a dialogue instead of a debate or argument. It was a good while before I could appreciate the difference. My prior discussions with those who disagreed had been tense and oppositional. Yet the three of us, over time, developed the freedom to explore, and the safety to disagree, while still maintaining courtesy and relationship. We granted one another the benefit of the doubt, a willingness to really listen and have our preconceptions corrected, and an openness to new ideas, perspectives, and practices. Most importantly, we learned to be humble. We realized that we worship a perfect and holy God, and to think that we’d get it exactly “right” was unrealistic and perhaps prideful.
We spent time getting to know each other. We talked a lot about worship as we studied and read differing views. Among them were books or chapters written by James Bannerman, George Gillespie, Hughs Oliphant Old, Hart and Muether, Terry L. Johnson, Joey Pipa, Tim Keller, R.J. Gore, and D.A. Carson. We passionately but respectfully questioned and critiqued one another. We challenged and stretched each other, and even as strong differences remained, our worship services became even more consciously biblical.
Getting Along
Is resignation to disunity an acceptable answer to the worship standoff? Surely not all Christians can agree on worship issues. But should a tiny denomination within the context of the kingdom of God resign itself to disunity within its own ranks? Where might an answer lie?
Would an agreed-upon liturgy from some highly regarded period of Church history solve the problem, as some suggest? Or, would making the tough choices as to precisely which practices are acceptable and which are not be the best solution—as others hope? Perhaps the answer is to “lighten up and focus on relevance or evangelism,” as still others argue.
“Working out the gospel,” not only in our services but as we differ in doing so is a much more appealing, as well as more biblical, solution.
Maybe part of the whole point of corporate worship is to promote—not just prove—our sanctification individually and corporately. Perhaps getting along is partly why God refuses to allow us to worship Him privately.
In Romans 12, Paul describes the Christian life as continually offering ourselves to God as an act of worship. Calvin said the passage has to do with worshiping God rightly, using language that eventually came to be known as the “regulative principle” (that only what God commands is permissible in worship). Paul employs words like living, holy, pleasing to God, and spiritual. Commentators agree that although corporate worship is not the primary reference, it is certainly included.
What then does right or true worship entail? It involves discerning and following the will of God, which requires a transformation of our thinking. We must no longer conform to the patterns of the world, but instead, to Him. From there Paul describes what it looks like, he shows us the character that results. This, he says, is how we are to behave when our minds are being renewed.
Unifying Worship
Paul first focuses on unity within diversity, and then on love.
As our pride is humbled, and as become able to value and benefit from one another’s gifts (Romans 12:3-8), we see that true worship brings us together. The counter-cultural character of the church, and the evidence of transformed thinking are more clearly seen when we do not think of ourselves more highly than we ought but with sober judgment (vs. 3). Paul is suggesting that we are prone to overestimating ourselves, which precludes us from benefiting from the rest of the body.
In meeting with my brothers I found that I still instinctively believe that my ideas, opinions, and practices are somehow higher than others’, and that what I have to offer the body is more important. God reveals these tendencies to show us our pride.
We don’t easily see this, because pride, like all sin, is self-cloaking. But as God humbles us, we begin to listen and learn from the body.
After the controversy surrounding our proposed daughter church, our presbytery devoted its annual retreat to what turned out to be a fruitful discussion about worship. Soon after that a committee was formed to provide further guidance, and I was included as a member. Although there was sharp disagreement regarding what is and is not permissible in worship, this “worship practices committee” became another opportunity for all of us to experience the sweet benefit of learning from and accepting one another. The fruit? In a spirit of reconciliation, we have a daughter church that is off and running well. And we participated in the kind of connectionalism that is a hallmark of Presbyterianism, with the hope of more dialogue and progress to come.
As this new relationship grew, so did understanding and humility. I saw how committed we each were to Scripture’s authority and yet how each of us had important differences in interpretation and application. I also saw how our shared commitment to the Reformed faith—as applied to worship—was much stronger than our disagreement over certain methods.
Loving Worship
When Paul talks about a worshipful life and a renewed mind, he also emphasizes love. “Be devoted to one another in brotherly love,” he says. John Murray said that love is “the affection which a family entertains toward one another.” But it involves more than affection; it requires mutual submission or deference: “Honor one another above yourselves,” Paul says.
I dare not think my worship is genuine when my love is not. How can I believe I am devoted to the worship of God when I am not devoted to brotherly love? I must not honor important ideas while dishonoring my brothers and sisters in Christ.
Honoring others more than myself is part of my calling. To exalt God is to humble myself, not only before Him, but also before others. It is horribly twisted that in the name of exalting God, I exalt myself. And one way I do that is by focusing more on my convictions than my community.
This does not mean that love trumps truth. It does not mean we should lack convictions, or even opinions and preferences. It simply puts them in proper context. Paul is emphatic that we ought to “Hate what is evil, and cling to what is good.” It is just that we are prone to underestimate—and avoid—the evil in our hearts toward each other.
That’s why, when Paul unpacks the evil and good in the Romans 12, he’s lopsided toward the way we treat each other. Doctrinal faithfulness is not just conceptual; it’s practical and relational. God not only regulates our worship and relationship with Him, but our relationship to one another as we relate to Him. Loving God and the family of God are intertwined in fulfilling the whole law, and so is personal and corporate worship.
I am captured most by verse 16: “Live in harmony with one another.” It conveys the sense of “same thinking.” An aspect of worshipful living is thinking alike. However, that does not mean “thinking the same things.”
I had believed that unity required conformity; that we needed to share the same convictions; that we had to agree on what is acceptable (in worship) and what is not. But when it comes to the more debatable issues, like applying the regulative principle, “thinking the same things” very easily becomes about “thinking like me.”
However, Paul’s actual phrase is “think the same things toward one another.” He is not merely saying “think the same,” but “think the same way.” Given the context, he is commanding us to think in a unifying, loving, and humble way toward one another. I have discovered that I spend an inordinate amount of time pressing others to think the same as I do. No wonder Paul finished the thought with, “Do not be proud.”
The way we think is at least as important as what we think. Our rightness is never separated from our relationships, our principles from our peace, or our worship from our humility.
Regulating the Regulative Principle
There is a regulative principle of the often neglected, yet indispensable, regulative principle. It is called unity, love, and humility. Truth is not sacrificed, but rather served. In pride, we tend to gather around those who confirm our rightness and isolate ourselves from those who do not. Which is why we so desperately need something larger than our penchant for self-confirmation, and that is what God provides through a diverse and large body.
We need the regulative wisdom of chapter 26 of the Westminster Confession of Faith: “… United to one another in love, God’s people have fellowship in each other’s gifts and grace and are obliged to perform those public and private duties which nourish their mutual good. … By their profession of faith God’s people are bound to maintain a holy fellowship and communion with each other in the worship of God.” The vows I took as an officer in our denomination include upholding the peace and unity as well as the purity of the church.
So, realistically, as we think about our disagreements over worship, what hope for unity do we actually have? We the formerly resigned have the hope that comes not through agreeing on precise programs or parameters, but from pursuing the person of Christ and the persons within the body. Our hope comes through continued personal and corporate repentance and faith. After all, Romans 12 begins by connecting us to the motivation and power of the gospel as Paul says, “Therefore, I urge you, in view of God’s mercies … .”
Paul calls us to act on the basis of God’s mercies toward us as outlined in chapters one through 11. We pursue unity with one another through love and humility, as hopeless and tiresome as it may seem, because we believe God is worthy of it, and that He will help us. And, in that light, Paul adds, “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer” (vs. 12).
May God’s work to heal the worship war within us bring greater healing in the worship war between us. May worship become more the answer to our feud, and not its cause.
Presbyterian Worship Committee Recommendations
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