Simple Worship

On Sunday morning, I went to Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church in Manhattan again. This morning Pastor Charlene Han Powell was preaching. I believe she just graduated from seminary recently. The passages were Ecclesiastes 3:9-15 and Luke 10:38-42. As a new preacher, she did a wonderful job in terms of articulation, engaging with the congregation, and delivery. The only thing I wished she spent more time on is the passages themselves. Nowadays, I think that we pastors don’t spend much time to expound the text. Rather we jump into application immediately. I know that preaching is different from Bible Study. The text itself can bore people to death. But expository preaching is so necessary for the congregation to understand what the text meant then and what it means to us now. Besides that, I think that we pastors try not to preach any “strong” messages. Perhaps, we fear that we turn the congregation away. Thus, we just challenge them a bit and say it with a smile. We want you to be loved. We want to keep the job.

At the end of the service, we sang “Be Thou My Vision” as the responding hymn. “Be Thou My Vision” is my favorite hymn. Every time I sing it, I want to cry. When I get to certain point in life, I feel like I run out of tears. But every time I think of God as my vision, the greatness of God falls upon me. But the contrast is that I live so small, and my living makes Him look small.

It seems like it would be a bit easier for me to say “Be Thou My Vision” on the pulpit. Can I say it with confidence while I am sitting in the pew with silence? Mary sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching (Lk. 10:39). The vision of God was there while Mary was listening in silence. When she was receiving the Lord’s teaching quietly, God was glorified and magnified. In John Piper’s words, when we are most satisfied in Him, He is most glorified. With all my emphasis on theology and word, Mary’s simple approach can be inspiring.

I no longer worship as a pastor, a corporate pray-er, and a preacher, but a lay person sitting in the pew with or without anticipation. Before each Sunday, I don’t have to struggle with my worry and worry about my sermon. I don’t have to formulate a corporate prayer. I don’t have to take initiative. I don’t have to sit in the front and let people see my back. Now, I just sit in the middle of the congregation. I am not the center of attention. I am there to pay attention to those who are in charge. I pay attention to God by paying attention to them. They function as mediators between Christ and the congregation. They are not super-spiritual, but they do have special roles in a worship setting. Because their titles are pastors, I assume they are trustworthy and godly unless they do something stupid to take away my trust and respect. I don’t call them my pastors. That precious pronoun takes at least a few years, for it involves more than trust and respect. It involves love, sacrifice, and commitment.

I always participated in worship with words. My usual means to “glorify” Him is to lead worship in prayer and preaching. Now, I just sit there and hope for the best. Mary’s simple act reminds me of simple worship: It’s not about doing, but being. It’s not about sitting in the front or somewhere at the back. At the end of the day, worship is about sitting at the Lord’s feet with attentiveness. “Mary has chosen the good portion” (Lk. 10:42).

After the service, I went to the church’s book shop to buy a book. I picked up a novel called Jayber Crow (Counterpoint, 2000), by Wendell Berry.  I don’t read novel. But in his books, Eugene Peterson mentioned this guy many times. So, I couldn’t resist the devil’s work this morning.

The book is $15.95. When I paid with my credit card, an old, old lady (about 80) glanced at her sheet on the table without looking at the price on the book. But on the paper she looked at the wrong item. She said, “It’s $6.95.” At first, I thought the church has discount for books. But then I looked at the sheet of paper in front of her, I knew that she made a mistake by looking at the wrong item. After I found out that she made a mistake, my immediate, non-verbal reaction was, “Yes, I got a cheap book. Only $6.95. But wait a minute. I just literally finished worshipping. If I don’t tell her she made a mistake, what did I just do a moment ago?”  Then I told her she made a mistake. She said, “Thank You.” When I got home, I checked the transactions of my credit card. I realized that she swiped my card twice. I am like, “What the hell…” I guess she didn’t worship. J