Philippians 2: 5-11

MUSIC APPRECIATION

From time to time, my parents would inflict what they called “music appreciation” upon me and my siblings. No, it didn’t mean piano lessons (which I would have liked), nor was it a survey of musical history (which I later learned to love), but rather listening to records from the Big Band era. That’s it—no classics, no jazz, no Bebop—just the music between 1935 and 1945, an extremely narrow slice out of a universe of possibilities. Music appreciation indeed! Imagine me promising you a Bible study that only focused upon 3rd John, the shortest book in the Bible.

My first formal job was working at Baskin Robins when I was 16. I remember a guy who came in about once a week and ordered the same thing: a licorice cone. No one ordered licorice ice cream except on a dare. Those of us who worked there obsessed over the question of why it was there in the first place. We kept naming amongst ourselves all the better, unrepresented flavors that could have occupied that place in the freezer.

I’m no fan of licorice ice cream, and I confess there is music for which I have no appreciation whatsoever (polka), but I have learned to appreciate at least 30 flavors of the 31, and I love many kinds of music from all over the world and from many different historical eras. Furthermore, I am open to trying new flavors all the time and I try to understand new or foreign music before I lay down a decisive review or evaluation.

I bring all this up because of worship. As long as I’ve been in ministry, I’ve heard people complain and gripe about worship. They love the music, they hate it, they don’t understand it, etc. They love the new worship building, they hate it, they don’t understand it. The worship service doesn’t feel like it used to, the hymns are old and stale, or why do we have to sing that song that way? The fact is, we develop tastes for worship just like music and ice  cream, and our tastes run either broad or narrow, depending upon our attitude.

Our intention here is not to shame anyone for their tastes, but rather to call you to a higher perspective. Worship is not entertainment; it is not an aesthetic event for which we develop personal tastes or appreciations. Worship—rightly executed—is our immersion into the praise and glorification of God. In short, it doesn’t matter a fig whether we like worship or not; we simply owe the Lord our total gratitude and whole heart as we surrender ourselves to his Word and Spirit. The forms are all expendable.

WORSHIP IS EVANGELISM

The number one way people are truly converted has nothing to do with Bible studies, healing ministries, mission projects, or theological conversations; it has everything to do with worship. What is conversion but that event in the human soul when one goes from caring only about oneself to caring deeply about God and neighbor?

There are likely people who attend worship for years—maybe even decades—before that conversion becomes complete. Yes, they said the right prayers, gave the Sunday School answers to all the questions, and faithfully give of themselves in terms of time, treasure, and talent, but through it all—deep down inside—are still holding back. There is still a portion of the self that is held back, kept to oneself, uncommitted. Yes, I’ll do my best and dedicate myself to trying to please God—reasonably, anyway or even more than reasonably—but behind it or beneath it all, at the core, there’s a part of me held back, still steering, self-protecting and self-preserving. To the degree that’s you or me, we are still unconverted.

The value of worship is inestimable. It is our eternal destiny, but it is also the very means by which we are brought out of ourselves and into gratitude, love and service. Worship is the means by which God is put first in our lives and our neighbors put ahead of ourselves.

So today is a little bit of Worship Appreciation. I’ll spare you the Big Band era and licorice ice cream.

WORLD WORSHIP

Good news, folks: the gospel of Jesus Christ is changing the world for the better. Forget politics (please), forget advocacy movements, forget defending the status quo—all are vanity. Instead, let’s focus on worship. When people turn to the Lord, the world comes together and sanity and virtue prevail.

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ALTAR TABLE CALL

I’ve been asked many times, “Why don’t Presbyterians do altar calls?”  Can I tell you why we don’t—and never ever will—to altar calls? Because we do not have altars! There are no altars in Presbyterian churches and there should be  no altars in any church—Protestant, Catholic, or Orthodox—because altars have one purpose and one function: they are a place to slaughter sacrificial animals. When was the last time you saw that happen? Right, never. Churches wrongly use the word altar whenever they use it. The age of sacrifices—even in Judaism—has been on hold since the year 70 when the Temple was destroyed. 

So, we have no altar calls in part because we have no altars. We have a table—Christ’s table—which stands at the center of all Christian worship spaces.

In our worship service, every time we celebrate communion, the Word of God is preached, and people are invited to come to the table in order to receive the Lord in the very way he has instructed us to receive him. We offer a table call.

And as we come to the table of Christ again today, hear your invitation. This table is not for the worthy, but the unworthy. All who have been baptized into Christ are fed here for their spiritual walk and discipleship. All of those outside of faith and belief are also invited to come to the table as coming to faith. To come to the table—you and your children—shows that you seek the Lord and are willing to trust in his grace instead of your own do-gooding. We turn from our sins—our life characterized by self-service—and turn toward God willing to be remade and renewed by the Holy Spirit.

We say, “Trust in Jesus.” If you are willing to trust him—even if for the very first time this morning—you are invited. Jesus’ love covers you, enfolds you, envelops you, and we respond out of pure need. Come to the table; the Lord calls. He says, “Take. Eat.” These are unconditional, like his love. They are imperatives—commands—and we start the journey as we finish it, with simple obedience.

He calls, won’t you come? †