Christian Worship
Nicolas Simon
Table of Contents
Boldness to Enter into the Holiest
Israel, although a mixed company of both faith and infidelity, were the people of God—outwardly, they were redeemed and sanctified (Exod. 15:13; Lev. 20:24). Jehovah God established a covenant relationship with Israel. And yet, for all these privileges, Jehovah’s dwelling place was in thick darkness (Exod. 20:21; 1 Kings 8:12). God is Holy and cannot countenance evil. The priests alone could approach God—and only the high priest could go into the Holiest of Holies and that just once a year (Lev. 16:2, 34). It was there that God dwelt among His people (1 Sam. 4:4; 2 Kings 19:15, etc.). The remainder of the people (the laity) were kept at a distance. They could only approach God through the priests. God was faithful and merciful, and they approached Him on this ground. They could not, however, speak of the forgiveness of sins; and when an Israelite spoke of salvation it was outward—a deliverance from enemies and adverse circumstances. The sacrifices provided an atonement (a covering), but they never perfected those who offered, and they had to be repeated year after year (Heb. 10:1). It was a relationship that involved a degree of uncertainty and fear. This is evident throughout the Psalms. Israel’s form of worship, ordered by God, was suited to such a company; it was ritualistic and ceremonial.
In Christianity the flock of God is not a mixed company of believers and unbelievers (John 10:27-28). Only those who are born of God are the children of God, and only those who, by the Spirit of God, cry Abba Father are in the conscious good of it (Rom. 8:15). It is no longer with a spirit of fear that we approach God. We know sins forgiven and we come now as purged worshippers, having no longer any conscience of sins (Heb. 10:2). In Christianity the believer’s position is based on that perfect and complete work of Christ—dead, risen, and now glorified by the will of God. Our sins are no longer covered, but, rather, we can say: “The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses us from all sin” (1 John 1:7). It brings the believer into a living relationship with God, not now as Jehovah, but as the Father, revealed by the Son (Matt. 11:27). “That which we have seen and heard declare we unto you, that ye also may have fellowship with us: and truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ” (1 John 1:1).
True and full worship supposes that we can draw near to God without fear. It is impossible, therefore, for a lost sinner to worship God. One may view God with awe and even acknowledge His activity, for example, as Creator, but that is not worship. The child of God can say and do what Israel never could: “Having therefore, brethren, boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way, which He hath consecrated for us, through the veil, that is to say, His flesh; and having an high priest over the house of God; let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience, and our bodies washed with pure water” (Heb. 10:19-22). It is not simply that we have been set free from a condemning conscience, but our bodies have also been set apart from every defiling practice. We now stand before God as those who delight in His holiness; His love has free course, and the natural response of our heart will be worship.
There is, nevertheless, a walk which corresponds to this position. If we do not enjoy practical holiness in our lives, our hearts will condemn us and there will be no liberty to worship. “Beloved, if our heart condemn us not, we have boldness towards God” (1 John 3:21). “Pursue peace with all, and holiness, without which no one shall see the Lord” (Heb. 12:14 JND). Nonetheless, we again emphasize that we do not come as the trembling sinner, fearful that God can never forget. If communion is lost through our carelessness, there is a clear path for restoration: “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9).
Bringing the First Fruits
Worship is not a tap we turn on or off upon demand. An artesian well emits a fountain because of the positive pressure within the aquifer; if the aquifer is not recharged, the fountain will ultimately cease to flow. Worship requires preparation of heart and mind—not of the kind we may undertake before an exam. It takes being in the Lord’s presence, those moments of quiet with the Word of God throughout the week. Without this, why should we expect an outpouring of worship on the Lord’s Day? If I fill my mind with everything other than the Lord on Saturday evening, why should my state of soul be in a different place on Lord’s Day morning?
Although the Old Testament doesn’t give us a model of worship to follow, the principles it establishes are still relevant. We have considered verses from Deuteronomy twelve; we will now turn to the twenty-sixth chapter. “Thou shalt take of the first of all the fruit of the earth, which thou shalt bring of thy land that the Lord thy God giveth thee, and shalt put it in a basket, and shalt go unto the place which the Lord thy God shall choose to place His name there. ... And thou shalt set it down before Jehovah thy God, and worship before Jehovah thy God. And thou shalt rejoice in all the good that Jehovah thy God hath given to thee” (Deut. 26:2, 10-11 JnD). We should not expect worship to flow from our hearts if our baskets are empty. We do not come to the remembrance of the Lord to have our baskets filled. Although God is no man’s debtor; He will not allow us to come away empty (1 Kings 10:13). The children of Israel were brought into a land of milk and honey (Deut. 26:9); it also had many springs of water (Deut. 8:7). God, in His grace, provided everything needed for bountiful harvests; nevertheless, we know that drought and famine punctuated Israel’s history. The lack of fruit on their part was not a result of poverty on God’s part—neither is it in our lives. Israel’s particular sin was idolatry. It can likewise be ours: “Children, keep yourselves from idols” (1 John 5:21). All outside God’s purposes and nature is an idol. If we fill our lives with these, we must expect a spiritual famine.
Another verse, this time from the book of Genesis, provides us with a related lesson. In chapter forty we find Joseph in prison. He was soon joined by Pharaoh’s butler and his baker. The story, I trust, is a familiar one. Both the butler and baker have dreams and Joseph is given to know their interpretation by God (Gen. 40:8). The butler’s dream is favorable: “Within three days shall Pharaoh lift up thine head, and restore thee unto thy place: and thou shalt deliver Pharaoh's cup into his hand, after the former manner when thou wast his butler” (v. 13). Joseph follows the interpretation with these words: “Think on me when it shall be well with thee, and show kindness, I pray thee, unto me, and make mention of me unto Pharaoh, and bring me out of this house” (v. 14). The request is a simple one: Think on me when it shall be well with thee. Or, as another translation gives it: “Bear a remembrance with thee of me when it goes well with thee” (v.14 JND) Is it not well with us? “God, who is rich in mercy, for His great love wherewith He loved us, even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ, (by grace ye are saved;) and hath raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus” (Eph. 2:4-6). This is the day of Christ’s rejection; the princes of this world conspired to crucify the Lord of glory (1 Cor. 2:8). The people’s vote was: “Away with this man, and release unto us Barabbas” (Luke 23:18). The Lord Jesus is now gone “away out of the country” (Matt. 25:15). It is our present privilege to remember Him; to announce His death in a world which wanted nothing to do with Him (1 Cor. 11:26 JND). In this sense we bring Him out of this house. What is our response? What was the response of the chief butler? “Yet did not the chief butler remember Joseph, but forgat him” (Gen. 40:23). Do we suppose he intended to forget him? I think not. No doubt he got busy going about his work and enjoying his liberty—he simply forgot poor Joseph in prison. At the last the Butler says: “I do remember my faults this day” (Gen. 41:9); but this is not what Joseph had asked of him. Thankfully, it brought him back to that place of remembrance—but what a route! It doesn’t take evil in one’s life to be spiritually poor. “Demas has forsaken me, having loved the present age” (2 Tim. 4:10 JND).
Conclusion
In this pamphlet I have sought to provide a Biblically based description of Christian worship—what it is and the principles that should guide us. Affection for the Father and the Son leads to worship, but it should be accompanied with intelligence in divine things. Mary of Bethany had an affection governed by spiritual intelligence. We see an expression of worship in the twelfth chapter of John’s gospel: “Then took Mary a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped His feet with her hair: and the house was filled with the odour of the ointment” (John 12:3). Not a word was spoken by Mary—praise is always audible, but worship is not necessarily so. We do not find Mary at the cross nor at the empty tomb. She had an intelligence that neither her sister Martha nor the disciples had. With Mary Magdalene we see divine affection (never should we imagine it was merely human) but there was not that same degree of spiritual comprehension. “Mary [Magdalene] stood without at the sepulchre weeping: ... And [the angels] say unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? She saith unto them, Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid Him” (John 20:11, 13). We do not gain either—divine affection nor intelligence in divine things—except by spending time in the presence of the Lord, enjoying communion with Him, and by reading His word. It is noteworthy, therefore, that we find Mary of Bethany three times at the Lord’s feet: first in hearing His word (Luke 10:39), next in supplication (John 11:32), and finally in worship (John 12:3).
The Crop with its Feathers
Worship is expressed in various forms: hymns, prayers, and so forth. In these there will be both that which is truly worship mingled with that which is not strictly so. A hymn may begin with an expression of worship and end with the care and walk of the saints. Other hymns may have wonderful expressions concerning the person and work of Christ intermingled with a gospel message. Indeed, few hymns, as excellent as they may be, contain sentiments that are purely worship. For this reason, a selection of verses from a hymn may sometimes be sung. There is, however, a risk of being overly taken up with these things—and worse yet, sitting in judgment on our brethren when such a hymn is given in its entirety. Unnecessarily editing a hymn to make it more worship-like detracts from the worship itself. At this point our worship becomes prescriptive—if I restrict my forms of expressions to this or that, then it will be worship. Words alone do not constitute worship; the most worshipful hymn may be sung with the most unworshipful spirit.
On the other hand, if a gospel song is given out during a meeting for worship, what should one do? There should be a generosity of spirit that looks for God’s portion in it. Invariably, there is such an expression, especially when the motives of the individual are right. Considerable damage has been caused by needlessly correcting such heartfelt expressions. I do not speak of contention—it is certainly possible for one to assert themselves in a disruptive manner during a meeting. That is quite a different thing. In that case, it is incumbent on those who have oversight in the assembly to shepherd and, if necessary, to reprove such a one. Nevertheless, to sit in the assembly with a judgmental attitude is more disruptive to the liberty of the Holy Spirit than a hymn or prayer given with true affection for Christ, although there may be a lack of spiritual intelligence.
In the burnt offerings of Leviticus, the least significant offering was the dove or pigeon. “If the burnt sacrifice for his offering to the Lord be of fowls, then he shall bring his offering of turtledoves, or of young pigeons” (Lev. 1:14). No one was prevented from making a voluntary offering because of their penury. Nevertheless, there are some instructions unique to the fowl. “The priest shall bring it unto the altar, and wring off his head, and burn it on the altar; and the blood thereof shall be wrung out at the side of the altar: and he shall pluck away his crop with his feathers, and cast it beside the altar on the east part, by the place of the ashes: and he shall cleave it with the wings thereof, but shall not divide it asunder: and the priest shall burn it upon the altar, upon the wood that is upon the fire: it is a burnt sacrifice, an offering made by fire, of a sweet savour unto the Lord” (Lev. 1:15-17). The crop of a bird contains undigested food. A bird pecks whole grains and stores them in its crop before they pass through the stomach and into the gizzard. There the stomach’s secretions and the gizzard’s grinding action reduce the food to a digestible state. This would picture truths and thoughts that we haven’t fully appropriated. Perhaps a regurgitating of things which we may have heard, without them being made good to our own souls. The feathers, on the other hand, are the glory of the bird. What it pictures is clear enough—self. Man, by nature, is a selfish creature and invariably his thoughts return to himself. But when self asserts itself during worship (in any of its various forms), this must be set aside. It was the priest’s role to remove them. In the present day it is Christ who performs this priestly function; it is His role and not ours.
The offerings of the Old Testament, so integral to Jewish worship, give us valuable insights into the nature of Christian worship. These offerings foreshadowed Christ, who, as the antitype, fulfilled them all—indeed, the Levitical sacrifices hold no value apart from Christ. The burnt offering gives us God’s side; it is a sacrifice by fire of a sweet savour to the Lord (Lev. 1). It is Christ offering Himself entirely to God. He glorified God as to sin, in a way in which God could not be glorified otherwise. Christ in this character is the very essence of worship. The sin offering, on the other hand, is quite a different thing—except for one verse, it is not described as a sweet savour unto the Lord (Lev. 4). Certainly, we come in the good of the sin offering, but it does not form the subject of worship. We may initially measure the value of Christ’s work according to the greatness of our need; but having been brought into communion with God, we must now measure that work according to the value in which God sees it. The meal offering is Christ in His perfect humanity (Lev. 2). Yet, in dwelling on Christ in His humbled life, it is always with the consciousness that the cross completed it and threw its character of perfectness over His whole path.xi In the peace offering we have elements of both the burnt and meal offerings but with the added feature that it brings in the fellowship of the saints (Lev. 3; Lev. 7:11-38). As such it offers a most vivid image of the Lord’s supper. The Apostle Paul makes this connection in chapter ten of his first epistle to the Corinthians (1 Cor. 10:16-18).
The peace offering was a freewill offering, not for atonement but for an expression of communion. It was an offering made by fire to Jehovah of a sweet odor and where the choice of animal, whether of the cattle, sheep, or goats, was not prescribed. The offerer was limited only by his capacity to furnish such an animal. The offering was killed by the offerer, but it was the priest who sprinkled the blood roundabout upon the altar. Likewise, the fat and the kidneys were brought by the hands of the offerer, but it was the priest who burned it (Lev. 3:10-11; 7:30-31). As a type, the priest speaks of Christ; He partakes in the joy of those who are His through the value of His death. As to the fat, something special is noted: “The priest shall burn it upon the altar: it is the food of the offering made by fire unto the Lord” (Lev. 3:11). The word used for food, לחם, is quite literally, bread—this was God’s portion, His bread. God delights in the sweet odor expressed by the full and complete work of Christ. The breast (affection) of the animal was waved before the Lord as a wave offering (Lev. 7:30). Similarly, the shoulder (strength) was to be a heave offering (Lev. 7:32). When the peace-offering was presented in thanksgiving, it was to be accompanied by unleavened cakes and wafers of fine flour (Lev. 7:12-13). As with the meal offering, this speaks of Christ’s humanity in all its perfection. Unique to the peace offering, parts of it were eaten by the priests, the offerer, and those who were his guests—all who were clean (Lev. 7:19).
There are so many aspects of the peace offering which could be addressed, but it is necessary to limit the commentary and leave much to the reader’s meditation. Christ’s sacrifice is the basis of our fellowship with God and with one another (1 John 1:3). Furthermore, it is the enjoyment of Christ in His death which leads to thanksgiving and worship to God. God’s portion in it is the memorial of His Son. Christ is also our object—the perfection of His person and work, neither of which can be spoken of without bringing in the cross. The offerer does not come away empty; all were blessed and filled by the offering. Notably, “The flesh of the sacrifice of his peace offerings for thanksgiving shall be eaten the same day that it is offered; he shall not leave any of it until the morning” (Lev. 7:15). The meat of the animal, once divorced from the offering itself, became a profane thing and was not to be consumed. Likewise, the bread and wine of the Lord’s Supper are simply bread and wine when divorced from the remembrance of the Lord. Neither has peculiar powers that may be conferred upon one who later eats it. By the same principle, a recording of worship does not represent worship for those who might later listen.
To avoid any confusion, it must be made clear that the Lord’s Supper is most pointedly not a sacrifice—it is a memorial of a sacrifice. In it we express our fellowship (identification) with the body and blood of Christ, and those who likewise partake. In so doing, we recall that one perfect sacrifice that Christ made of Himself (John 10:17-18; Heb. 9:10). United in one body we show forth the death of Christ until He comes (1 Cor. 11:26).
Endnotes
W. W. Fereday, Faith and its Foundations, Worship
J. N. Darby, On Worship, Collected Writings, Vol. 7
G. C. Willis, Consider Your Ways, Notes from an Open Meeting
F. B. Hole, The Gospel of John, Chapter 20
J. N. Darby, On Worship, Collected Writings, Vol. 7
Francis Chan, Forgotten God, pg. 15
J. N. Darby, The Notion of a Clergyman, Collected Writings, Vol. 1
H. Smith, Elisha: The Man of God, The Kings and Their Armies
R. Warren, The Purpose Driven Life, Day 8
J. N. Darby, Worship, Notes of a Reading, Words of Faith, Vol. 3
J. N. Darby, Worship, Notes and Comments Vol. 1.
Introduction
For centuries the notion of worship was, by and large, prescribed by a strict liturgy. This form of worship was predominant in the so-called established churches with which most people of the time identified. The elements of such worship included: the confession of sins, prayers, reading of Psalms, Scripture readings, a sermon, the collection of alms, a recitation of the Lord’s Prayer, the Apostle’s creed, the Lord’s words when instituting the Last Supper, the Breaking of the Bread, and its distribution. I do not wish to imply that all these elements were necessarily present, nor, for that matter, that I have given every aspect of such a service. Nevertheless, this list is intended to give a general idea as to the nature of liturgical worship. In those institutions where such a regulated principle of worship was not followed, patterns of worship were, nevertheless, established which included many elements of the above. In the modern world, even among evangelicals, where a form of worship far more liberal has been adopted, worship continues to be associated with ceremonies and activities conducted on behalf of others—listening to music or hearing a moving sermon. These may produce a response from our hearts, but they are not worship in themselves. The congregation remains, by and large, a participant in a performance orchestrated by others. A testimony from God addressed to man is not worship.
Worship cannot be prescribed; it goes against the very nature of worship. So, what is worship? The word derives from worth (worthy, honorable) and -ship. The latter is appended to a noun to form a new word denoting a state of being. W. W. Fereday wrote: Prayer is a blessed exercise for all who realize their weakness and need; thanksgiving is comely for those who have received great things from God; but worship is a higher sentiment than any of these, because it contemplates not His works only, but God Himself—His perfections and glories. Our English word is simply a contraction of the Anglo-Saxon “worth-ship”, which means ascribing honour to one who is worthy.i Another has written: It is the honour and adoration which are rendered to God, by reason of what He is in Himself, and what He is for those who render it.ii
Worship, therefore, should be the natural response of the true child of God. It flows from the heart, as led by the Spirit of God, consequent upon the work of Christ and the revelation that God has made of Himself—His glory, His love in sending His Son, and all the blessings associated with it. Worship is thankfulness and a heart overflowing with the goodness of God, but it is even more than this. Worship does not occupy us with ourselves but with God the Father, as revealed in the Son, the knowledge of whom is made good to us through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, and with the Lord Jesus Christ Himself. As human creatures, our focus all too naturally falls back to that which centers upon us—our former state and our present blessings. We may come to an assembly meeting with the desire to worship, but we must confess we often fall short of it.
It should be made clear that this article is not intended to be a blueprint whereby we judge others. I hope to address some common misconceptions regarding worship, but more importantly, it is my desire to provoke personal exercise as to the state of our own relationship with the Father and the Son. At one time Satan held many Christians in fear with no true apprehension as to their relationship with the Godhead—and that remains true within certain ecclesiastical systems today. However, in the modern church the reverse seems to be true—there is such an irreverent familiarity that the relationship has no depth at all; it is I, and not God, who is the center of Laodicean Christianity (Rev. 3:14-22).
Music
The mention of Asaph perhaps raises the question: What part does music play in Christian worship? Certainly, music is present; Paul speaks of it in his epistles: “Speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord” (Eph. 5:19-20). And again: “By Him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to His name” (Heb. 10:15). But the silence, especially in Paul’s epistles as to the role of musical instruments in Christian worship, is notable. There isn’t a single reference, not in the Acts, nor in the writings of Paul, James, Peter, John, or Jude. There is no instruction for, or example of, singing to the accompaniment of musical instruments. Our music is spoken of as the fruit of our lips. We sing, as Paul and Silas did, without the aid of instruments (Acts 16:25). This thought is neither novel nor new. The early Protestant Reformers eschewed musical instruments in worship. They recognized that their use was associated with the temple of the Old Testament, and that it should not be carried into Christianity. To use musical instruments is contrary to worshipping in spirit. It brings us back into the realm of nature and all that is emotive to man. It must be noted that Protestant churches soon reversed their standing; their mixed congregations were just not ready to receive such teaching.
There seems to be a confounding of emotion with the activity of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit should evoke an emotional response, but an emotional response does not imply the activity of the Holy Spirit. It is not difficult to locate churches offering Spirit-filled worship, but almost universally they connect it one way or another with music. Neither listening to music, nor to a powerful sermon, will fill us with the Holy Spirit although they may move us emotionally. Being filled with the Spirit is a state of soul, one where the Holy Spirit is neither grieved nor quenched (Eph. 5:18; 1 Thess. 5:19). Quenching the Spirit, although it may be individual, is especially connected with the assembly. “Quench not the Spirit. Despise not prophesyings” (1 Thess. 5:19-20). To appoint an individual (or individuals) to direct a service, or oversee worship, is to quench the Holy Spirit—at the very least it is man limiting the channels whereby the Spirit may be permitted to act.
When it comes to the use of music, two incidents in the Old Testament come to mind. King Saul was troubled by an evil spirit from God. When David played music, it calmed his spirit and he was refreshed: “It came to pass, when the evil spirit from God was upon Saul, that David took an harp, and played with his hand: so Saul was refreshed, and was well, and the evil spirit departed from him” (1 Sam. 16:23). There is no denying the powerful effect of music upon the human psyche, but this is not an argument for its use in worship but, rather, against it. With Elisha we have another, not altogether dissimilar, situation: “Elisha said ... bring me a minstrel. And it came to pass, when the minstrel played, that the hand of the Lord came upon him” (2 Kings 3:15). Here, it might be supposed that the hand of the Lord came upon Elisha because of the music, but I do not believe this to be so. Elisha found himself caught up in a situation contrary to the mind of God. The kings of Israel, Judah, and Edom had joined forces to battle the king of Moab. Never was such an alliance more unequally yoked. Of the three, only Jehoshaphat was a man of faith; indeed, Elisha tells the king of Israel: “Were it not that I regard the presence of Jehoshaphat the king of Judah, I would not look toward thee, nor see thee” (2 Kings 3:14). The music was a distraction from the evil amongst which he found himself. Hamilton Smith writes:viii The man of God must have his mind diverted from the utter confusion around, the destruction with which God's people are faced, and the consequent distress into which they are plunged. An application for the present time is given: Are we not often faced with circumstances in which the evil is so apparent that it is easily detected, and condemned without any great call upon our spirituality? To discern, however, the mind of the Lord in the circumstances, demands far greater spirituality. For this we need to have our spirits withdrawn from the things of earth so that, undistractedly looking to the Lord, we may be able to see the condition of His people as He sees it, and thus gain His mind. This wicked condition of things certainly should not characterize the assembly—nor is music the answer, were it so. We have a full revelation from God in His Word, and we have the indwelling of the Holy Spirit to guide us. We must separate from all that is dishonoring to God if we want to hear His voice. In His grace we have been given all that we need to know His mind.
It has been said: There is no such thing as “Christian” music; there are only Christian lyrics. ... If I played a song for you without the words, you’d have no way of knowing if it were a “Christian” song.ix Is such a broad statement true? Suppose one walks past a building and hears the tune to a popular secular song—under these circumstances, the words are invariably unintelligible. What will be the conclusion of the passer-by? The question needs no answer. Do we pay no attention to the origin and use of a tune, or, for that matter, its effect on the human psyche?
Western classical music was created for the early Christian church. The music associated with the ancient pagan religions was deemed inappropriate. Rather remarkably then, influences from those pagan traditions have come wholesale into modern music across all genres. Western music was built upon melody, harmony, and rhythm, and there were accepted forms which were developed over the years. As we move into the 19th and 20th centuries, however, challenges were made to the long-held traditions and composers deliberately resisted the musical establishment of the day. Melody gives way to a more ethereal harmony, and then rhythm began to dominate. Modern rap is all rhythm without melody or harmony. These challenges to the accepted norms occurred across all forms of artistic expression: literary, theatrical, visual, and musical. Romanticism, which marked the early 1800s, gave way to realism and naturalism, which in turn were superseded by impressionism and symbolism; this led to modernism and then post-modernism. Each renouncing some aspect of the former until we arrive at the present day where the very certainty and stability of meaning is no longer recognized. As established norms were challenged in the arts, social and moral norms were also questioned—commonly by the very same artists; their profligate lives were renown (and it was often rejected, even by their peers). These changes were not restricted to the fine arts but made their way into popular culture. Running parallel to this history has been a steady rejection of long-held Christian values.
While I grant that there is a degree of subjectivity in all this, we cannot simply disregard these things when we make choices as to the music we use for a hymn or spiritual song—whether it be for praise, thanksgiving, or worship. Certainly, the lyrics are critical, but we must ask ourselves whether the music supports the words or if it is a distraction? We cannot ignore its origin or associations.
The Priesthood of Every Believer
In worship we are all priests. That which could not be true under law is now the privilege of every true believer. “Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house, an holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ” (1 Pet. 2:5). “To Him who loves us, and has washed us from our sins in His blood, and made us a kingdom, priests to His God and Father” (Rev. 1:5-6 JND). The epistle to the Hebrews exhorts all true Christians to approach God within the veil. There is no intermediary, apart from Christ, between the believer and God. “There is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus” (1 Tim. 2:5). Despite this remarkable liberty, for much of Christendom’s history the Church has kept the saints at a distance from God. A priestly order of a select few has been imposed between them and God. Moreover, Christians have shrunk from exercising their priesthood. They would rather perform works, or exercise their gifts, or do nothing at all but listen to another; in so doing they make themselves Levites and not priests.
How much do we know of drawing near, of entering within the veil? We understand what it means to: “Come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need” (Heb. 4:16). But when it comes to that “boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way” (Heb. 10:19-20)—when it’s no longer about my need—how far we fall short. It is good to be exercised as to this for it represents (whether we admit it or not) a low, not necessarily a poor, state of soul. It can result from deficient teaching, circumstances, or a worldliness that has pushed aside the enjoyment of Christ—anything which sets my focus on me and not on Christ.
Although all are priests, that priesthood is not exercised by all in the same way. A typical assembly will include men, women, and children—I speak specifically of those who are truly saved. God, in His wisdom, has granted each different spheres of responsibility within His house. Women are not to take a public role in the assembly (1 Cor. 14:34). They are to have their heads covered as an outward sign of their dependent position. “Therefore ought the woman to have authority on her head, on account of the angels” (1 Cor. 11:10 JND). Women are not, however, relegated to a secondary place; they join in the worship, they offer up their sacrifice of praise, and likewise, they partake in the Lord’s supper. One should not associate dependence and subjection with inferiority; the Lord Jesus was the most perfect example of both. I recognize that these verses are unpopular, and many find ways to circumvent them. Nevertheless, God has established an order that goes back to creation. To violate the natural order of things is both dishonoring to the person involved and to God (Rom. 1:26; 1 Cor. 11:3-15; 1 Tim. 2:12-13).
There may also be things which disqualify one from the exercise of their priesthood. The sons of Aaron were consecrated as priests, but if they acted with uncleanness upon them, they were to be cut off from the presence of the Lord (Lev. 22:1-3). In the days of Ezra there were priests who could not establish their genealogy. These, too, had to be put away from the priesthood as polluted (Ezra 2:62). None of these principles have lost their value in the present day. It may be necessary for an assembly to address sin in the life of a believer, and they may have to be put away as unclean (1 Cor. 5:9-13). Likewise, if one cannot give a clear confession of their spiritual genealogy, not now according to natural birth but, rather, according to new birth, then their salvation is in question. They are not qualified to exercise their priesthood.
Although priesthood is neither gift nor service, that doesn’t mean there aren’t responsibilities connected with it. In writing to the Corinthians Paul says: “I speak as to wise men; judge ye what I say” (1 Cor. 10:15). This responsibility is both individual and collective. Individual responsibility is expressed in the verse: “Let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that bread, and drink of that cup. For he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh damnation to himself, not discerning the Lord's body” (1 Cor. 11:28-29). It is perhaps less well known, and certainly little acknowledged, that the assembly also has a responsibility. “Know ye not that a little leaven leaveneth the whole lump?” (1 Cor. 5:6). To suggest that the assembly is defiled through association is not popular (1 Cor. 10:18-20). “Lay hands suddenly on no man, neither be partaker of other men's sins: keep thyself pure” (1 Tim. 5:22). With some, their character is immediately evident—whether good or bad. With others, it takes time to know them. “Some men's sins are open beforehand, going before to judgment; and some men they follow after. Likewise, also the good works of some are manifest beforehand; and they that are otherwise cannot be hid” (1 Tim. 5:24-25). In identifying with a person, we become a partaker in their works—whether good or bad. These principles are seen throughout the Word of God. In Nehemiah’s day, “the doorkeepers and the singers and the Levites were appointed” (Neh. 7:1 JnD). I do not believe that the order is arbitrary. Worship (singing) preceded service (Levites), but all this was overseen by those who watched over the city. We have parallels in Christianity: “Obey them that have the rule over you, and submit yourselves: for they watch for your souls, as they that must give account” (Heb. 13:17). One who is at the Lord’s table is accountable to those who have an administrative responsibility in the assembly.
Just as there is growth in natural things, so should there be in the spiritual realm. We do not grow without food—not physically and not spiritually. It is necessary and proper for a child to sit as a learner (Prov. 2:1-9). The boy Jesus was not marked by immodesty nor conduct unbefitting a child. We find Jesus, as a twelve-year-old boy, “in the temple, sitting in the midst of the teachers and hearing them and asking them questions. And all who heard Him were astonished at His understanding and answers” (Luke 2:46). He heard them and asked questions; the teachers in turn put questions to Him and were surprised at His answers—all is beautifully fitting. A child who unnaturally reaches beyond his or her age is called precocious. It is not natural for a child to take a lead. “Woe to thee, O land, when thy king is a child, and thy princes eat in the morning!” (Eccl. 10:16). Age should bring discernment. “Strong meat belongeth to them that are of full age, even those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil” (Heb. 5:14). A prince, when a child, is subject to those who have his care. “A child, differeth nothing from a servant, though he be lord of all; but is under tutors and governors until the time appointed of the father” (Gal. 4:1-2). It is only when they reach a full age do they take up the responsibilities connected with their position. “The child Samuel ministered unto the Lord before Eli” (1 Sam. 3:1). Samuel served the Lord, but in subjection to Eli. A child’s position in the assembly is, likewise, one of subjection. It is not their time or place to have a public role. Children are to be nurtured; the assembly is to be a place of growth. To put demands on a child beyond their years (or to allow them to enter such a place on their own volition) is to seethe a kid in its mother’s milk. “Thou shalt not seethe a kid in his mother's milk” (Exod. 23:19, see also 34:26 and Deut. 14:21). To put a child in a position of responsibility, when they are not ready for it, will invariably result in their destruction.
Contrariwise, it is out of character for one who is of a full age to behave as a child. The Apostle Paul found it necessary to tell the Corinthians saints: “Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong” (1 Cor. 16:13). They were behaving like immature children. To the Hebrew saints he wrote: “For when for the time ye ought to be teachers, ye have need that one teach you again which be the first principles of the oracles of God; and are become such as have need of milk, and not of strong meat” (Heb. 5:12). There were many things the Jewish believers clung to—a shadow of good things to come, and not the very image of the things (Heb. 10:1)—and like children they were reluctant to let them go. The Gentiles were not immune to this behavior, and they, too, gravitated towards those showy things which appeal to the natural man and the child within. “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things” (1 Cor. 13:11). One who refuses to accept responsibility because they do not want accountability is behaving in self-will.
Service is not Worship
In his book, The Purpose Driven Life, Rick Warren writes: Anything you do that brings pleasure to God is an act of worship. He goes on to say: Work becomes worship when you dedicate it to God and perform it with an awareness of His presence. This is fundamentally wrong; he confounds service with worship. It is true that service brings pleasure to God, and that it shouldn’t be about us; it should be about the One we serve—all good points that the author makes. However, this doesn’t transform service into worship. This may be best illustrated in the relationship between husband and wife. As time passes in the marriage the fresh character of first love may fade. Sadly, the adoration that flowed so naturally at the first—“I love you”, “You look so beautiful”—may dry up. It isn’t that affection is gone, but rather, it is expressed by the things done. Perhaps the wife will remark: “You no longer say: I love you”. Does the response: “Oh, but I pay the mortgage, I mow the lawns”, or perhaps even, “I vacuum the house, I wash the dishes” meet her need? Although these activities may truly please the wife, they will not satisfy her heart. Likewise, in our spiritual relationship, as the heart’s affections cool, worship gives way to service—but instead of recognizing it, Christendom has justified itself and has redefined service as worship. We see it in some modern translations: I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship (Rom. 12:1 ESV). The final word, translated worship, is properly divine service and is always translated so in the King James. “Verily the first covenant had also ordinances of divine service, and a worldly sanctuary ... the priests went always into the first tabernacle, accomplishing the service of God” (Heb. 9:1, 6). I believe we can see this substitution of works for worship in John’s address to the first of the seven churches, Ephesus: “I know thy works, and thy labour, and thy patience, and how thou canst not bear them which are evil: ... Nevertheless, I have somewhat against thee, because thou hast left thy first love” (Rev. 2:2, 4).
The book of Numbers, which gives us the service of the Levites in the house of God, follows the book of Leviticus in which we find the ordinances of priestly activity. The priest’s role under the law was more excellent than that of the Levite; the priest drew near to God. “Thou shalt appoint Aaron and his sons, and they shall wait on their priest's office: and the stranger that cometh nigh shall be put to death” (Num. 3:10). In contrast, the Levites were given to Aaron and his sons to serve them: “Bring the tribe of Levi near, and present them before Aaron the priest, that they may minister unto him. And they shall keep his charge, and the charge of the whole congregation before the tabernacle of the congregation, to do the service of the tabernacle” (Num. 3:6-7). It is right and proper that we come into the presence of God first and then go out in service. Service which flows from that state of soul which produces worship will never be drudgery or a mere obligation.
Even within Judaism we see the same substitution of works for worship. “In vain do they worship Me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men. For laying aside the commandment of God, ye hold the tradition of men, as the washing of pots and cups: and many other such like things ye do” (Mark 7:7-8). They had grown cold, and their worship, so-called, had become a mere formality. This decline is vividly described by the prophet Malachi. “Behold, what a weariness is it! and ye have snuffed at it, saith the Lord of hosts; and ye brought that which was torn, and the lame, and the sick; thus ye brought an offering: should I accept this of your hand? saith the Lord” (Mal. 1:13). They offered what was convenient to them—and which cost them little. Likewise, modern Christian worship takes on the same character—an hour on a Sunday before the ‘big game’; money in the box, and one’s duty is discharged.
Spirit-led Worship
Collective worship is more than a sum of individual contributions. We do not come to give out our favorite hymn, read a selection of verses that we have prepared, pray prayers reflective of our personal exercise, and so forth—all of which may be sincere and heartfelt. The activity of the Holy Spirit should be evident in collective worship. “How is it then, brethren? when ye come together, every one of you hath a psalm, hath a doctrine, hath a tongue, hath a revelation, hath an interpretation” (1 Cor. 14:26). When one gives out a hymn, or prays, or reads a Scripture, they should do so at the directing of the Holy Spirit. “For we are the circumcision, who worship by the Spirit of God, and boast in Christ Jesus, and do not trust in flesh” (Phil. 3:3 JnD). For that moment they give voice to the assembly, not just their own thoughts. “They lifted up their voice to God with one accord” (Acts 4:24). “That ye may with one mind and one mouth glorify God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom. 15:6).
Although many Christians acknowledge that the loaf is a memorial of Christ’s body broken for us (1 Cor. 11:24), few appear to recognize that it also represents (in its unbroken state) the body of Christ—that is to say, the entire redeemed company which forms the church of God. “We, being many, are one loaf, one body; for we all partake of that one loaf” (1 Cor. 10:17 JND). On the day of Pentecost, the small company of believers in Jerusalem were incorporated into one body through the baptism of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:1-4). “By one Spirit are we all baptized into one body” (1 Cor. 12:13). They formed the body of Christ, the church. “He is the head of the body, the church” (Col. 1:18; see also Eph. 1:22-23; Eph. 4:4, 12). Never had such a body existed. This truth, that the church is the body of Christ, of which He is the glorified Head in heaven, and that it is indwelt and governed by the Holy Spirit, remains completely foreign to much of Christendom. The activity of the Holy Spirit, in directing the assembly, should be evident in its various activities and certainly not less so than in its worship.
In a book, given to me by a Christian friend some years ago, the author laments a lack of understanding concerning the Holy Spirit and His role within the church. He notes, quite rightly, for example: The benchmark of success in church services has become more about attendance than the movement of the Holy Spirit. The “entertainment” model of church was largely adopted in the 1980s and ‘90s, and while it alleviated some of our boredom for a couple of hours a week, it filled our churches with self-focused consumers rather than self-sacrificing servants attuned to the Holy Spirit.vi A couple of pages further on in this same book, nevertheless, the author writes: My friend Jim, who serves as one of the worship pastors ... . The author fails to recognize that the only worship leader in the assembly is the Holy Spirit! For all the good things that the book has to say, the author cannot divorce himself from the clerical model that has divided the church for centuries and which so effectively usurps the Spirit’s role. This has been called the sin, characteristic of this dispensation, against the Holy Ghost.vii For a man to take the role of worship leader, or to be appointed to this role, is to deny the Holy Spirit the liberty to act through whomsoever He will. I recognize that this individual could be led by the Holy Spirit (certainly, the assumption is so); however, where do we find anything like this in the Word of God? One must turn to the Old Testament to find something similar. For example, the appointment of the sons of Asaph, Heman, and Jeduthun for the service of music in the temple (1 Chron. 25). Christendom has returned to those elements suited to an earthly people under law—established well before the cross, well before the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, and well before the church began.
This do in Remembrance of Me
J. N. Darby, in his article On Worship,v wrote: Although worship is offered in various ways, by hymns, by thanksgivings, in the form of prayers, in praise, etc., we can understand, I say, that the Lord's Supper, as representing that which forms the basis of all worship, is the center of its exercise, around which the other elements that compose it are grouped. The worshipper is thereby reminded of that which is the most precious of all things in the sight of God—the death of His beloved Son. He recalls the act in which the Saviour has testified His love in the most powerful way. The exercise of this blessed privilege, the Lord’s Supper, has been denied its proper place from the very earliest days of Christianity. In his letter to the Smyrnaeans, Ignatius writes: Let no man do anything connected with the Church without the bishop. Let that be deemed a proper Eucharist, which is administered either by the bishop, or by one to whom he has entrusted it. This pattern has continued to this day. Whether it be the imposition of a priestly caste to administer it, the withholding of the wine from the laity, the irregular administration of it, the Lord’s Supper has lost its true place in Christian worship.
The Lord Jesus instituted this remembrance on the night of His betrayal: “He took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it, and gave unto them, saying, This is My body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of Me. Likewise also the cup after supper, saying, This cup is the new testament in My blood, which is shed for you” (Luke 22:19-20). The Apostle Paul gives us the doctrine for it in the tenth and eleventh chapters of his first epistle to the Corinthians. In the book of Acts we learn that the first Christians “continued stedfastly in the apostles' doctrine and fellowship, and in breaking of bread, and in prayers” (Acts 2:42). Initially it was performed daily: “Every day, being constantly in the temple with one accord, and breaking bread in the house, they received their food with gladness and simplicity of heart” (Acts 2:46 JND). However, it soon settled into a pattern of once a week on the day we know as the Lord’s Day. “We ... came unto them to Troas in five days; where we abode seven days. And upon the first day of the week, when the disciples came together to break bread” (Acts 20:7). Paul evidently stayed in Troas for seven days so that he, and those with him, would have the privilege of remembering the Lord with the local assembly (Acts 20:7). We see this pattern again in Tyre and Puteoli (Acts 21:4; 28:13). That there was a gathering on the first day of the week is further established by Paul’s direction to Corinth: “Upon the first day of the week let every one of you lay by him in store, as God hath prospered him” (1 Cor. 16:2). Any suggestion that we should hold the remembrance on any day according to our convenience is contradicted by these verses. Not that the Lord’s Day is the Christian’s Sabbath—the Sabbath has not been moved; it was a day uniquely given, under law, as a sign between Jehovah and the children of Israel (Exod. 31:16-17).
The exercise of the Lord’s Supper is not in itself worship, but, rather, it represents that which forms the basis of worship—the death of the Lord Jesus Christ. God is not “worshipped with men's hands” (Acts 17:25); it is not by doing that we worship. On the other hand, to assemble for worship without the Lord’s Supper, or to have the Lord’s Supper as a mere sacrament, is incongruous. The Lord’s Supper was given, not as a command, but as a request. Furthermore, it is a privilege and not a right; circumstances or bad conduct may preclude one from partaking of the Lord’s Supper (1 Cor. 5:11; Titus 3:10; etc.). It is an act we carry out as a memorial of the Lord’s death (1 Cor. 11:26). We often speak of remembering the Lord—as if the Lord’s Supper is a reminder to us of that which we are apt to forget. No doubt it serves that purpose, but it should be more than this—more than a reflection of our weakness. It is a remembrance, a recalling to mind as a memorial, that Christ, though now living, once died—the blood (wine) stands separate from the body (loaf). Remembrance Day was established on November 11th to commemorate the end of World War One. It was a day to honour those who sacrificed so much for the sake of their country. In many cases it was the supreme sacrifice, death. Likewise, the Lord’s Supper is a memorial to our Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, His body given and His blood shed—we remember Him in His death. It should be about Him, and, as such, it should give rise to worship in our hearts.
When we come together for the remembrance of the Lord, our hearts and minds are often far removed from the subject before us. The hymns and prayers are reflective of this: we pray for help; we reflect on the depths of our depravity; we bemoan our great weakness; we sing of the Lord’s faithfulness; we praise the Lord for all His goodness; we acknowledge His exaltation and power. Nevertheless, that which is represented in the loaf and wine, a dead Christ, often seems far removed. None of the things enumerated are wrong and they have their time and place. This isn’t a question of right or wrong—rather, it concerns the state of the soul. How much better it would be if we came together prepared in heart and mind. I don’t mean as to what one might pray, or read, or sing; that, in its own way, would be far worse. But, rather, I allude to the spirit of what Peter says when he writes: “Sanctify the Lord God in your hearts” (1 Pet. 3:15). If we come into the Lord’s presence with a divided heart, distracted by this world—either its charms or its cares—it is little wonder that the remembrance of the Lord becomes a postscript to the meeting. Sadly, we often come into the Lord’s presence in a state of soul ill-suited to that place. It seems to take considerable time before we are ready to remember the Lord. Mind you, if that is what it takes, then it must be so—pretension to a spiritual state is a sin and not a mere weakness—but let us be deeply exercised by it; it is a sorrowful commentary on our condition.
Worship in Spirit and in Truth
Liturgical forms of worship in Christianity were largely derived from the prescribed forms laid out in the Old Testament. Worship under law was suited to an earthly people who had been outwardly redeemed and sanctified. It was very ceremonial and was facilitated by the priests. As Christians, we have been brought into a vastly different relationship with God. The cross of Christ profoundly changes everything. We are no longer under law. Historically, however, when the light of the Gospel was supplanted by a doctrine of works, congregations became mixed companies and, as such, worship was soon adapted to appeal to the natural man. The church was perceived as taking Israel’s place, and in so doing she yielded up all the privileges associated with her true position. She regressed and became a child under tutors and governors, a servant in bondage to the elements of the world (Gal. 4:1-3).
Perhaps one may ask: since we do not find a definition for worship in the Bible, such as the one given in the introduction, why be so narrow? I think it’s true to say that we don’t find definitions for many words; nevertheless, context and usage give us a great deal of insight into their Scriptural meaning. In this case, we are not left without guidance as to the true character of Christian worship. We will turn to a rather remarkable encounter which sheds much light on our subject.
In the fourth chapter of John, we read of one whom we know simply as the woman at the well. The well of Sychar was quiet at the sixth hour. There we find two outcasts—though rejected for very different reasons. Jesus is outside of Jerusalem, the center of Jewish worship, and is instead to be found among the Samaritans. The woman, we learn, had had five husbands and she was now living with a man who was not her husband. She was a deeply troubled person with a need which could not be filled by natural means. To divert the attention away from herself, her needs, and her troubled conscience, she raises a controversy—one of many that divided the Samaritans and the Jews. The Samaritans were descendants of foreigners who had been exiled to the land of Israel when the Ten Tribes were taken captive by the Assyrians (2 Kings 17:24-34). They brought with them their own idols and deities, but they also learned of Israel’s God through a priest of Jeroboam’s corrupt religion (1 Kings 12:31). Recognizing that the Lord was no ordinary man, the woman at the well says: “Sir, I perceive that Thou art a prophet. Our fathers worshipped in this mountain; and Ye say, that in Jerusalem is the place where men ought to worship” (John 4:19). She thus, unwittingly perhaps, introduces the subject of worship. The Lord, in His reply raises four points:
Worship would no longer be centered in Jerusalem, nor, for that matter, at any geographical location (v. 21).
Samaritan worship was based on falsehoods; the Jews, on the other hand, knew what they worshipped (v. 22).
The time was at hand when true worshippers would worship the Father (v. 23).
Worship would be in spirit and in truth; God is a Spirit; and they who worship Him must do so in spirit and in truth (v. 23-24).
Worship is not Centered Upon a Physical Location
The Samaritans saw Mount Gerizim as the center of their worship. The Jews, on the other hand, claimed Jerusalem—indeed, the Temple Mount is none other than Mount Moriah where Abraham offered up Isaac (Gen. 22:2; 2 Chron. 3:1). Israel was expressly forbidden to worship in places of their choosing. In those days, altars were established at sites deemed sacred—mountains, hilltops, or a grove of trees. This was common practice for pagans across all lands and cultures. “Ye shall utterly destroy all the places, wherein the nations which ye shall possess served their gods, upon the high mountains, and upon the hills, and under every green tree” (Deut. 12:2). Jehovah’s commandment was very clear: “Ye shall not do so unto Jehovah your God; but unto the place which Jehovah your God will choose out of all your tribes to set His name there, His habitation shall ye seek, and thither thou shalt come” (Deut. 12:4-5 JND).
When the children of Israel entered the land, the tabernacle was first pitched in Shiloh in the land of Ephraim (Josh. 18:1). God, however, had His eye upon Mount Moriah. There He had said: “God will provide Himself a lamb for a burnt offering” (Gen. 22:8). This was the mount of Jehovah (Gen. 22:14). It is the mountain of which the children of Israel sing after crossing the Red Sea: “Thou shalt bring them in, and plant them in the mountain of Thine inheritance, in the place, O Jehovah, which Thou hast made for Thee to dwell in” (Exod. 15:17). In Psalm 78 we read of the tabernacle’s removal from Shiloh to Jerusalem: “He forsook the tabernacle of Shiloh, the tent which He placed among men ... He refused the tabernacle of Joseph, and chose not the tribe of Ephraim: But chose the tribe of Judah, the mount Zion which He loved” (vv. 60, 67-68).
The Samaritan claim for Mount Gerizim was based on falsehoods. Their version of Israel’s religion was counterfeit. We hear it in the words of the woman: “Art thou greater than our father Jacob, which gave us the well” (John 4:12). She takes her place as a descendant of Jacob, even though she was alien to the commonwealth of Israel. Jerusalem was the center of Israel’s worship; it was the place where Jehovah had set His name—Jerusalem is not forgotten. God will restore her as the center of worship for Israel, and all the nations of the earth will go up to Jerusalem to worship the King, Jehovah of Hosts (Zech. 14:17; Micah 4:1-2). In the meanwhile, however, both Israel and Jerusalem have been set aside (Hos. 1:9; Matt. 23:37). We do not go up to Jerusalem to worship, nor, for that matter, to any special geographical location. “Woman, believe Me, the hour cometh, when ye shall neither in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, worship the Father” (John 4:21).
Christianity stands in distinct contrast to Judaism. Indeed, one who serves the tabernacle has no right to eat at the altar which is now ours: “We have an altar, whereof they have no right to eat which serve the tabernacle” (Heb. 13:10). We are called upon to leave the camp—representative of Judaism—and to go unto Jesus outside the gate. Christ is now the center of worship; we gather unto His name, and if we are found so gathered, then truly Christ will be in our midst. This is not a gathering of man’s doing; it is the Holy Spirit which does the gathering. In Matthew, chapter 18, the church is distinguished from a group of individual believers. “Take with thee one or two more, that in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word may be established” (Matt. 18:16). Two or three come together in this verse, but they do not form the church—it is something distinct and unique. “If he shall neglect to hear them, tell it unto the church” (v. 17). What distinguishes them from the church? It is Christ in the midst: “For where two or three are gathered together in My name, there am I in the midst of them” (Matt. 18:20).
The principles established by God in the Old Testament remain true today—we do not choose our place of worship. Although not a geographical site, the concept of one place remains. Many Christians struggle with this abstraction, but whether we use the expression one place or not, nothing in the Word of God supports the idea of a divided gathering center. We are to be found in the place where God gathers, by the Holy Spirit, His saints unto Christ’s name. I don’t think the difficulty is the abstraction itself, but the exclusive nature of it. Man clings to his independence and will not let go. The opposite of independence is dependence, and that is what God looks for. Adam and Eve abandoned their dependence on God, who had met their every need, and made an independent choice—this is self-will, the very root of sin. It would be an odd thing if a king were to come to a city only to find people gathered in disparate locations. One might say “this site is more convenient”; another “the people are nicer here”, and so forth. Of course, it's all nonsense. Everyone would be drawn to the king himself, and they would be found gathered where he was. On the other hand, suppose we knew that, in our city at eleven on a Lord’s Day morning, the Lord Jesus was going to be visibly present in a certain place, what would we do? Every true-hearted saint of God would be found where He was.iii I don’t doubt that some will raise an alarm: So, you think the Lord is in the midst where you are on a Lord’s Day morning? My answer—not because I am there; but I trust to be found where He is, and if I’ve missed His mind, and am found at a gathering formed by men, then I would pray that I have the sensitivity and the faith for the Lord to reveal even this to me. Nevertheless, what I do doesn’t change the truth.
Worship in Truth
The second point the Lord makes to the Samaritan woman is: “Ye worship ye know not what: we know what we worship: for salvation is of the Jews” (John 4:22). As noted earlier, the Samaritan form of worship was based on falsehoods. They laid claim to an inheritance that wasn’t theirs; they worshipped in a mountain that had not been appointed of God; and they had their own version of the Pentateuch—they did not have a revelation from God. The Samaritans were imitators of Israel’s religion. To the Jews, on the other hand, were committed the oracles of God (Rom. 3:2). God had spoken to them. “The word is very nigh unto thee, in thy mouth, and in thy heart, that thou mayest do it” (Deut. 30:14). Salvation was of the Jews. “To [the Israelite] pertaineth the adoption, and the glory, and the covenants, and the giving of the law, and the service of God, and the promises” (Rom. 9:4). The revelation received by Israel was limited. Jesus did not say they knew who they worshipped, just what. God had been revealed to them as Jehovah, the Eternal One (Exod. 3:13-15). Nevertheless, they were at a distance from God and He remained hidden in thick darkness.
In Christianity we have a full and complete revelation. God sent His only begotten Son into this world, and He has made Him known. “For the law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ. No man hath seen God at any time; the only begotten Son, which is in the bosom of the Father, He hath declared Him” (John 1:17-18). The Samaritans neither knew who nor what they worshipped. The Jews worshiped according to the truth they had received. For the Christian, however, we have the fullest possible revelation, and our worship is to be rooted in the truth and blessings into which we have been brought through Christ.
Worshipping the Father
The Son has made known the Father. We no longer approach God as Jehovah. Certainly, He remains the Eternal One—that is essential to His being. We, however, have been brought into a much closer and more intimate relationship with God. Throughout the Lord’s life on earth, He made known to His disciples the Father. “All things are delivered unto Me of My Father: and no man knoweth the Son, but the Father; neither knoweth any man the Father, save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal Him” (Matt. 11:27). Yet, the relationship remained a distant one—He was their heavenly Father (Matt. 6:14, 26, 32). It isn’t until the Lord’s death and resurrection that the disciples are brought into the personal nature of that relationship: “Go to My brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto My Father, and your Father; and to My God, and your God” (John 20:17). Furthermore, it remained for the indwelling of the Spirit of God to give them the conscious sense of that relationship: “God hath sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father” (Gal. 4:6; see also Rom. 8:14-16). Another has written: By incarnation He came to our side, that in His perfect and spotless Manhood He might take up our case. Having taken it up, and by His death and resurrection wrought deliverance for us, He lifts us to His side in identification with Him in risen life. Thus it is that the relationship lies not in incarnation but in resurrection.iv This relationship was not known, and could not have been known, at any other time in the history of man. The Christian now comes to God as their Father—but it can only be as true worshippers; an outward position will never do. Moreover, “The Father seeketh such to worship Him” (John 4:23). The significance of this cannot be overstated.
This does not preclude the worship of the Son. In John’s Gospel we read: “All men should honour the Son, even as they honour the Father. He that honoureth not the Son honoureth not the Father which hath sent Him” (John 5:23). At His appearing the angels will worship Him: “When He bringeth in the firstbegotten into the world, He saith, and let all the angels of God worship Him” (Heb. 1:6). Every knee will ultimately bow to Jesus. “God also hath highly exalted Him, and given Him a name which is above every name: That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth; and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Phil. 2:9-11). Nothing seems clearer than this. It is our place to give the Lord Jesus that adoration due to Him. Worship addressed to the Son should flow as naturally from our lips as worship to the Father. Indeed, the essence of worship is expressed in this Old Testament verse: “Ye shall tell my father of all my glory in Egypt, and of all that ye have seen” (Gen. 45:13). There is no subject more excellent to the Father than that of the Son. The worship of the Father and the Son are intimately connected; to honor the Son gives glory to the Father.
Sadly, the reality is that many never apprehend their true relationship with the Father. All that is known of God is that He is satisfied as to their sins because of the blood. The Son is worshipped, but almost exclusively in the context of what He has done for the worshipper. The Father remains distant, and He is only acknowledged indirectly through the Son. There is no true understanding of the Lord’s words to His disciples: “For the Father Himself loveth you” (John 16:27). God wants us to be in the conscious realization of our relationship with Himself as the Father. It is both normal and perfectly natural for the youngest babe in Christ to know the Father. I write to you, little children [babes], because ye have known the Father (1 John 2:13). The Thessalonian saints were babes in Christ. They had heard the gospel message only weeks earlier, yet the Apostle brings in God the Father in his opening salutation. Paul wanted them to be in the good of that relationship, knowing both the care of the Father and of the Lord Jesus Christ. When there isn’t the present consciousness of our relationship with the Father through the Son, there isn’t liberty, and worship invariably becomes stilted and self-centered.
Worship in Spirit
We now come to the fourth and final point made by our Lord: “God is a spirit: and they that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in truth” (John 4:24). We have seen the significance of worship in truth—we are to worship according to the light of the revelation that we have received. The Jews worshipped according to the revelation they had of Jehovah God in the law. The Samaritans, on the other hand, had no revelation from God; they were impostors and imitators. We have been brought into the nearest of all relationships through the Son; we now have the blessed privilege of addressing God as Father. We are, in Christ, in the Son’s very place. “That we might receive sonship” (Gal. 4:5 JND). We are, as the hymn writer has said:
So nigh, so very nigh to God,
I cannot nearer be;
For in the person of His Son,
I am as near as He.
But what of worship in spirit? Under the law there was a worldly sanctuary with a tabernacle, its furniture, the candlestick, shewbread, and so forth. A curtain divided the tabernacle into the holy place and the most holy, wherein sat the ark of the covenant and the golden censer (Exod. 26; Heb. 9:1-5). The priests wore “a breastplate, and an ephod, and a robe, and a broidered coat, a mitre, and a girdle” (Exod. 28:4). There was glory and beauty associated with it all (Exod. 28:40), and it was suited, in the wisdom of God, to an earthly people set outwardly apart to God. These details continue to speak to us, not as a model to follow, but as a figure of the true sanctuary, a heavenly one. “Christ is not entered into the holy places made with hands, which are the figures of the true; but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us” (Heb. 9:24). The veil in the temple was rent in two upon the death of Christ; this quite literally opened the way into the most holy place. Nevertheless, the rending of the physical veil in the temple was merely a metaphor for a far more significant event. Jesus now appears in the heavenly sanctuary, in the presence of God, for us. We are to draw near to Him within the veil (Heb. 10:19-22). Ours is no longer a worldly sanctuary, but a heavenly one. Our worship is no longer based on material things, it is now spiritual. Israel’s worship was more connected with the soul; in Christianity, it is with the spirit.
God is a spirit and those who worship Him now must worship Him in spirit and in truth. We cannot, as it were, undo the revelation which we have received, and the place into which we have been brought, and return to a worship involving tangible, physical elements, that can be tasted and touched. “If ye have died with Christ from the elements of the world, why as if alive in the world do ye subject yourselves to ordinances? Do not handle, do not taste, do not touch, (things which are all for destruction in the using of them:) according to the injunctions and teachings of men, (which have indeed an appearance of wisdom in voluntary worship, and humility, and harsh treatment of the body, not in a certain honour,) to the satisfaction of the flesh” (Col. 2:20-22 JnD). It is a most serious thing to bring elements characteristic of Jewish worship into Christianity—they were a shadow of things to come (Col. 2:17). Indeed, “If I build again the things which I destroyed, I make myself a transgressor” (Gal. 2:18). We have the reality now. We are no longer children who need tangible objects to appreciate the reality that is ours to enjoy spiritually, through the Holy Spirit. All those forms—the temple, the sanctuary, the furniture, the physical altar, the robes, the incense, the gold, the silver, the music, the feast days—all these are now done away with, and our worship is to be in spirit.
Some modern commentators turn this verse (John 4:24) on its head and describe worship in spirit as worship according to the authenticity of the human spirit. It is indeed a small ‘s’ spirit, but it speaks of the character of worship (just as truth does) and not what we are naturally. God is a spirit and so we must worship Him in spirit. The spirit is that God-conscious part of man’s tripartite being—spirit, soul, and body (1 Thess. 5:23). All worship of man’s contrivance is very much rooted in the natural world: “Neither is [God] worshipped with men's hands, as though He needed anything, seeing He giveth to all life, and breath, and all things” (Acts 17:25). The Athenians were told that such ignorance could no longer be tolerated; God has made Himself known (Acts 17:23). Man reverted to nature worship when he no longer thought it good to retain God in his knowledge: “Who changed the truth of God into a lie, and worshipped and served the creature more than the Creator ... even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge” (Rom. 1:25, 28).
Worship is not Gift
Worship is not the expression of gift—not the personal gifts of Ephesians four (evangelists, pastors, or teachers), nor those spiritual manifestations, given by God, for the help and blessing of the assembly (Rom. 12; 1 Cor. 12). Worship should be the privilege and joy of every believer as they participate in their priesthood. The exercise of gift in worship is invariably a distraction. If these gifts are habitually used, they deprive worship of its true character, and we are the losers for it. Few things are more jarring than for a brother to provide a commentary on a portion of Scripture during a meeting intended for worship. This is not addressed to God; it is for the benefit of those listening and consequently the focus immediately turns inward. Scriptures read during worship are not for teaching nor are they for exhortation, they should be an expression of the heart. Such verses will harmonize with the sentiments expressed by the hymns and prayers. Very often, and appropriately so, such a reading is followed by prayer which gives further expression to the heart’s exercise.
We cannot worship without prayer, because desire goes ever beyond our present ability to worship; restricting it to mere praise is impossible, it is never unmixed with prayer.x To pray does not require gift; it should be second nature to a child of God who, by the Spirit, cries Abba Father. Yet, few prayers seem to accompany worship, and when they do, they may take the form of supplication rather than thanksgiving and communion. Sometimes prayers even become teaching, which begs the question, to whom are we praying, God or man? It, understandably, takes a degree of courage to give out a hymn or to pray, but when one is led by the Holy Spirit, it ceases to be about oneself and that self-conscious awkwardness is diminished. We should not attempt to imitate another; it is all too natural to compare. Some may have the ability to express thoughts eloquently, but a stumbling prayer from the heart may say far more in one-minute than five minutes of words perfectly expressed. Thankfully, we have many wonderful hymns that convey the thoughts we may vainly try to put into words; nevertheless, we should not use hymns as a substitute for prayer. Moreover, we should remember that worship in the assembly is not a hymn-sing. It is the collective expression of the assembly, and it takes a suited state of soul to have the heart and mind attuned to the leading of the Holy Spirit.