An Unbalanced Focus in Worship: Overemphasizing the Sermon

On a recent Sunday morning, I was having breakfast when I turned on my t.v. to watch a well-known local church’s broadcast. As I came to the right channel, I was greeted by the image of stage lights and a multi-piece band. Instead of what would normally be an opening praise song, the band started into the Bon Jovi 80′s classic, You Give Love a Bad Name. After the initial shock wore off, I double checked the channel I was on. Sure enough, this was the church service I was looking for. As the song finished, a member of the pastoral staff came out from behind the stage. After making a somewhat crude joke about hot flashes, he announced that the morning’s message would be on arguments in marriage. The staff member exited the stage while the band started into a worship song. With the band leading the church in two worship songs, I was left asking myself, “What in the world just happened?”

In a way, it is understandable what the church was trying to do. They wanted to get the congregation focused on the message by using a song containing the message’s theme. It is a common practice that many churches utilize today, traditional and contemporary alike. In either case, the music is tied in with the sermon topic to provide a theme for that day’s service. This method of planning worship services certainly has benefits, including the reinforcement of the sermon. However, there is an inherent danger in using this method every time a worship service is planned.

The TV broadcast mentioned above demonstrates an extreme in worship planning. This church is somewhat known for using secular songs related to the sermon as a call to worship. In this instance, they turned to a rock song whose lyrics speak of being hurt in a relationship. This song’s theme directly related to the sermon topic for that morning. While the very thought of a secular song being used in a worship gathering is enough to cause controversy in some circles, the danger this congregation is flirting with goes much deeper than the use of one song in a service. This church was so focused on reinforcing the message that, while externally polished, the intrinsic quality of worship was sacrificed. They did not make time for prayer in their service and placed little emphasis on Holy Communion.

People are intrinsically designed to connect with God on many levels. Scores of people have been impacted through the centuries by hearing powerful sermons and homilies. Additionally, innumerable hearts have been led into God’s presence through mighty hymns and contemporary worship songs. These hymns and songs have been the catalyst for outpourings of the heart onto God and have fostered many times of prayer. In worship, there must be a balance of what I call the Spoken Word and the Living Word. The Spoken Word is hearing a sermon/message/homily preached from the Scriptures and receiving from it. Some traditions would call this, “The Word Proclaimed.” The Living Word consists of coming to God in prayer, singing from the heart, and taking part in Holy Communion, e.g. the “hands-on” part of worship. This would be the more experiential part of worship where a congregation would be actively participating in the service.

A healthy church knows what it is to give equal weight to the Spoken and Living Word. A vital church also knows that there are instances when the Holy Spirit will direct that one be given more emphasis, e.g. more time, over the other. However, churches that consistently give one more priority over the other run the risk of not only robbing their members of a full worship experience in the presence of God but also presenting an incomplete picture of Christian worship to unbelievers. The fact that we believe in and worship a God that is alive is what separates us as believers from other world religions. How we worship our Lord communicates to the world what we believe. A church that has unbalanced worship conveys its lack of spiritual depth, and no matter how flashy we try to be in our church services, unbelievers are not as spiritually and intuitively naïve as we sometimes think they are. They can tell when something is not right within the church walls, and they will run from it. People are looking for something more than another message to tickle their ears. They want something that is real and that they can experience for themselves. A church that focuses only on its sermons robs people of additional ways to encounter the Living God and also robs God of other ways to speak to people. Going back to the church mentioned above, their use of a secular song at the beginning of their service took time away from the opportunities to commune with God through prayer or worship music. Because they desired to emphasize the Spoken Word, the Living Word suffered by having reduced time.

Let me conclude by posing this: what is the first question you ask when you plan worship? Is it, “What is the sermon about this week?” Are all aspects of the worship service being consistently and intentionally united with that week’s sermon topic? Are the prayers prewritten to match the message? Are all the opening and closing hymns/praise songs being chosen simply because the title/lyrics relate to the sermon? Or is the first question asked, “Lord, how should we worship you this week?” Is substantial time being spent in prayer over what hymns/songs to use? Is there a time of spontaneous prayer set aside to allow the Holy Spirit to direct the hearts of those in attendance? Your congregation, and even the entire world, depends on the first question asked in worship planning and how it is answered. May we all have the spiritual sensitivity and courage to ask the right question and follow the Lord in our worship no matter where He may lead.

In the first class I took in seminary, the professor made an almost casual suggestion that remains perhaps the single most important piece of advice I received in my theological education. For every semester of seminary, he said, we should read the works of one Church Father to become grounded in the great tradition. At the time, I was a 23-year-old kid with a calling to ministry, but little else. I assumed the only text I needed in seminary was the Bible and, to that point, my theological reading had consisted of the writings of a couple of guys named Joshua. I had no idea who these Fathers were.

Now a professor of theology myself, I have come to see that my experience as a young seminarian is anything but unique. Most Protestants I meet, whether in the classroom or in the local church, are unacquainted with the writings of the Church Fathers. Piously, we might say this ignorance stems from a sola scriptura methodological principle that remains a part of the Protestant DNA. However, the Protestants I know who are intentional about discipleship read voraciously from the best seller list of their local Christian bookstore and rarely interpret Scripture without reference to their Bible’s footnotes. It seems we read plenty of things to help us understand the meaning of Scripture. Unfortunately, however, most Protestants do not look behind the twenty-first century, much less the sixteenth, for their interpretive guides. Thankfully, I had a professor who led me elsewhere, and, taking his advice, I began to explore this foreign and exotic world. Ironically, the name to which I first turned, Irenaeus of Lyons (c. 130 C.E. – 200 C.E.i), is best known precisely for his insight that Scripture demands an interpretive guide.

A late second century bishop of modern day Lyons in France, Irenaeus was faced with the considerable challenge posed to the infant Church by the various theological traditions known to history as “Gnostics.” These groups claimed to possess a secret, salvific knowledge taught to a select few by Jesus Christ which entailed the distinction between the good God whom Jesus revealed and the evil creator known to Israel, the dismissal of material creation as evil, and the rejection of the Hebrew Scriptures as authoritative revelation. While this secret knowledge was contained in the Scriptures, the Gnostics claimed that a special, allegorical lens was needed to unlock it.

As a bishop, familiar with the teachings and traditions of churches in several different geographical locations, Irenaeus was able to discern the vacuity of the Gnostics’ theological claims. Surprisingly, however, he agreed with their methodological assumption that the Scriptures required a lens—the ancient word is regula (rule)—through which to be understood. Without such a regula, or, in the case of the Gnostics, with the wrong regula, Scripture would inevitably be misunderstood and misappropriated. Put another way, we need to read things to understand Scripture, but we need to read the right things.

Unfortunately, such a hermeneutical principle risks obscuring Scripture by making the interpretive regula, as opposed to Scripture, the true authority. Nevertheless, in Irenaeus’ work, the opposite occurs. Indeed, to read Irenaeus is to read nothing more than a masterful retelling of Scripture. In his able hands, we see the blossoming of Scripture as a coherent narrative revealing the one God who works in all things, both in creation and redemption, both in Israel and the Church, both in the Old and New Covenants, both in the Son and the Spirit. We thus find God’s original creation not destroyed, but restored in the work of Jesus Christ who reveals not a previously unknown God, but the physical face of a previously unseen God. As Irenaeus puts it, “Thus [Christ] showed that the God who made the earth and commanded it to bear fruit, and who established the waters and produced the springs, this same [God] bestows upon the human race the blessing of food and the favor of drink through His Son in these last times—the incomprehensible through the comprehensible, and the invisible through the visible, since He does not exist outside of the Father, but in His bosom” (Adv. Haer. 3.11.5).

Thus, Irenaeus shows us that the Church’s regula, unlike the Gnostics’ secretive, allegorical key, is not foreign to Scripture but arises from it, in concert with it, revealing its inner logic and beauty. Indeed, the nature of the Church’s regula is precisely to point beyond itself, to place the focus on Scripture.

Twenty-first century Christians are in no less need of a regula than were second century Christians. But like those persuaded by the Gnostics, we often reach for the wrong things. In reality, the best regula we have are the writings that many have never heard of, the writings of the Church Fathers. To read their writings is to witness Scripture shining forth its brilliance. To know their lives is to see Scripture performed in the manner intended, a manner that produces holiness.

Of course, for the Fathers to serve as our regula, we need first to spend time in their company. Therefore, in a series of forthcoming blogposts at Seedbed, I will introduce readers to these early figures. My hope is that these posts will merely serve as a primer, leading to a greater engagement and reading of their works, where the true wisdom can be gained. What I suspect is that in being led to the Fathers, we will always be led to Scripture.

Anger is tricky.

I’ve heard many sermons throughout my life. I remember very few. I assume that it reflects upon my retention skills rather than the lack of poignancy of most preaching. Perhaps you, too, remember few of the numerous sermons you’ve heard. Yet there are those moments in time, those lines that come amid profound sermons that grab hold of you.

“God is not angry with you.”

This is one of those lines I’ll never forget. A student preacher delivered this to a gathering of eight people. All of us assembled in a small chapel, awaiting our turn to preach for a class. Students aren’t yet expected to speak with profoundness; students are expected to be students. But those poignant, simple words still ring aloud in my head: “God is not angry with me.” Those words speak peace and comfort. They are beautiful and necessary words. Yet they beg the question . . .

Then why is God so angry?

The Old Testament is full of instances when God grew angry at the people of Israel. Rightly so, the people of Israel were often stubborn, prone to worshiping lesser gods, lacked faith on many occasions, and frequently disobeyed God’s direct words. Their actions incited God to anger. Sin has that effect on a holy God. God gets upset when we fall prey to lies that over promise and under deliver. Good fathers don’t get angry with their children when they make mistakes; they get angry about the decisions their kids make, because fathers know the consequences of those decisions.

In fact, if God never got angry, then we should be worried. The Bible says, “The Lord loves those he corrects, just like a father who treats his son with favor” (Proverbs 3:12).

Are we any better than the people of Israel? We sin. Let’s hope that God cares just as much for us.

I grew up afraid of letting my father down. Really, who doesn’t? While he never placed undue expectations upon me, I just wanted to make him proud. Since I became a father to two stepdaughters, I see everything differently. I quickly realized that the disappointment and anger good fathers express when their children mess up is not directed at their children but at their decisions. For my teenage daughters, I see past the present. I see the traits that are developed from habitually not cleaning up after yourself and the dangers of dating that particular teenage boy.

God gets angry because God sees the results of our actions before we do.

Anger is tricky. God gets angry, but God isn’t angry with us.

Dirty, Little Sin

As Christians, we process grief; we show love; we understand compassion; we accept forgiveness; yet when it comes to anger, we reject it as not being useful or holy. There simply is no use for anger in many Christians’ worldviews. We often get told to just “let it go,” “get over it,” or “count to ten.” Anger is treated like a dirty, little secret that needs to be kept quiet, not to be addressed, and to be kept hidden from the world.

Anger exists as the ultimate evil. Happiness exists as the ultimate good. So be happy. This is the philosophy that is often associated with anger.

But why?

God gets angry. Why can’t we? There must be more to anger than simply being a forbidden emotion. God doesn’t make humanity in God’s own image and then deny us the ability to be human. Being truly human is to fully embrace who God made us to be. If God gets angry, perhaps we ought to get angry, too.

Anger is tricky. Yes, it possesses both danger and destruction; but so does love. In the next few chapters, I will discuss from a biblical perspective what anger is, how God gets angry, when we need anger, and when we need to let go of anger.

More than Peace—Shalom

When I hear that word, I think of it as a greeting, something similar to “Aloha,” or “Live long and prosper.” Yet shalom exists as a fundamental understanding of God’s purpose as presented in the Old Testament. Shalom connotes peace, rightness, truth, and balance. This is God’s plan for humanity, to live in shalom with one another, with ourselves, and with God.

In conjunction to shalom, every Jewish person in the Old Testament possessed a ga‘al. A ga‘al was a family member or friend who served as a “redeemer” and whose purpose was to restore shalom when it was broken. This serves as a key principle to understanding the proper uses of anger. In Genesis 14, Abraham served as the ga‘al when Lot was abducted by the local warlord. Abraham and his servants rescued and restored Lot’s family. Imagine Abraham’s anger when he discovered Lot’s capture. The prerequisite for any good ga‘al is caring for someone enough to be incensed at the breaking of his or her shalom. Jesus serves as our ga‘al; and so as Christ followers, we are to be Christ to the world. This means that we are in the restoring peace business.

Anger always alerts us to the breaking of shalom. Now, anger can cause the destruction of peace, rightness, truth, and balance in our relationships; or it can cause the reconstruction of peace, rightness, truth, and balance in our relationships. Either way, it brings to our attention that something needs to be addressed, accepted, fixed, repaired, or changed. The New Testament further deepens the idea of anger over the Old Testament understanding of “an eye for an eye.” Anger doesn’t have to equal violence. Jesus gives us other ways to deal with problems, besides digressing to a 5 year old in a pinching contest. He teaches that forgiveness is coupled with indignation and that prayer is the greatest outlet for frustration.

In preparing for this book, I became awakened to my own anger. I had no idea that I had been carrying around so much anger for certain people and about certain situations. If anger is a dirty, little secret, you forget that you possess it. It’s not until you own up to it that you can address it. By owning up to my own anger, I realized that I have been “doing anger” all wrong.

There is a constructive way to use anger. Conversely, there is a destructive way to use anger. Guess with which of these two practices I found myself engaged?

Which do you practice?

Notice that I chose the word use instead of deal in referring to anger. We deal with the common cold. We use a tool. We have a capacity for anger for a reason. Let’s discover what that reason is.

I want to reclaim anger. The Bible tells us that God gets angry. Even Jesus expressed his anger from time to time. (Don’t ever abuse the poor in the name of God.) Constructive uses of this emotion are modeled for us by the Divine. On the other hand, find any TV show labeled “reality”; and you will find any number of destructive examples of anger.

Sin corrupts healthy things. Sin changes love into lust, passion into envy, success into pride.

Sin corrupts anger, too. So let’s learn what the psalmist meant by “Be angry, and do not sin” (Psalm 4:4, NKJV). In doing so, may we reclaim, in some small part, what it means to be human!

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This is the first chapter of a book Reclaiming Anger in the CONVERGE Bible Studies series.