Worship Matters

Introduction: Wrapping up the Series on the Church

Welcome to the book of John. This is the last sermon in our topical series on the church. Normally, what we do is we take a book of the Bible and we go through a procedure, really. We go section by section so we can understand the intention of the author. We haven't been doing that for the last two and a half months. Instead, we've taken a bit of a detour so that we could take time to look at what God's Word says about the church.

Now that we're done, you may be wondering what we're going to do next. I'm not preaching next week because David is going to be preaching next week. After that, I did the math, and we're not going to be in John. We're going to go back to Genesis because I can finish the book before I get married. So, we'll probably do the rest of the book of Genesis after that.

But I thought that a good way to end this series is to take time to think about worship—what it means to actually worship God, and how we can worship God rightly in light of all the things that we talked about regarding trying to get the church right, trying to get Scripture right, and trying to get the gospel right. What does it mean for us to pursue a genuine love for the Lord once we have all these structures in place?

So, we'll begin here in John chapter 4, verse 21. I'll read through verse 26. This is Jesus talking to the Samaritan woman at the well. This is his response to her in verse 21:

Jesus told her, “Believe me, woman, an hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You Samaritans worship what you do not know. We worship what we do know, because salvation is from the Jews. But an hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in Spirit and in truth. Yes, the Father wants such people to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in Spirit and in truth.” The woman said to him, “I know that the Messiah is coming” (who is called Christ). “When he comes, he will explain everything to us.” Jesus told her, “I, the one speaking to you, am he.”

— John 4:21-26 (CSB)

Let's pray. Lord, we do pray even this morning as we hear from your Word that you would help us to worship with all of our hearts, whether it's in singing, in praying, or in the hearing of your Word now. We pray for your help in Jesus' name. Amen.

The Tension Between Knowledge and Emotion

How do you feel like church is going this morning? Were the prayers too long? Was the music too loud? Are you dreading the length of this sermon?

When you visit churches, whether to check them out, to join, or simply because you're visiting a friend, what kind of thoughts go through your mind? Do you wonder why the stage is lit a certain way, or why the piano is played a certain way? Do you wonder how they greet you when you come in? I wonder if you've been part of a church that has even had divisions over their opinions on how the worship service should be done.

The "worship wars" were real wars that were actually fought. Tears, and maybe even blood, were shed depending on the church that you went to. I wonder what thoughts go through your mind as you evaluate the worship in this church. Is the music cold, intellectual, and not heartfelt? Are the sermons too cerebral? Maybe you think that we're too emotional.

Let me tell you, as a pastor who talks with all of you, I receive all sorts of opinions that span the entire spectrum. All of them tend to fall on this spectrum between what you feel and what you know—what you feel versus what you know.

After all, this is what one famous historian wrote about Puritanism, which was known for being too heady. He said that Puritanism was "the haunting fear that someone, somewhere might be happy."

Augustine felt this tension between knowledge and feeling as well. This is the way Augustine wrote in his own journal about his experience of singing in church:

"When singing, these sacred words stir my mind to greater religious fervor and kindle in me a more ardent flame of piety than they would if they were not sung. I also know that there are particular modes in song and in voice corresponding to my various emotions and able to stimulate them because of some mysterious relationship between the two. Yet when I find the singing itself more moving than the truth which it conveys, I confess that this is a grievous sin. At those times, I would prefer not to hear the singer."

— Augustine, Confessions

See, it doesn't matter if you have an electric guitar or whether or not all of your singing is done a cappella, like it likely was in Augustine's time. You can still be so moved by the emotions themselves, by the "vibes" themselves, in such a way that Augustine is willing to recognize, "That is a grievous sin for me—to be more moved by the emotions themselves than by what the truth itself is saying."

In the same section of his journal, he even wonders if he should just recite out loud the words of the song rather than singing them. He was probably the first Christian rapper.

How do we resolve this tension? We know that emotions can lead us astray. Sometimes stimulating our senses is more sensual than it is spiritual. On the other hand, we also know that Augustine is right: there is something about this mysterious relationship between truth and music or artistry that seems to make certain truths burst into life. I think that is by design.

In fact, to take feelings and facts and pit them against each other actually distorts what God intends for us. True worship isn't exclusively experiential, and it isn't exclusively rational. True worship pursues both glory and goodness, both doctrine and delight, both worship and warmth.

As I talk a little bit about how our church thinks about worship, what I really want to do is get us to avoid falling into either of these ditches. So, I have three points for us this morning:

1. The danger of experientialism.
2. The danger of rationalism.
3. The delight of true worship.

The Danger of Experientialism

Let's start with point number one: the danger of experientialism. I remember scrolling through social media and seeing a tweet that said, "I used to believe in God until I went to Coachella, and I realized I just believe in live music."

I'm sure you've heard this sentiment. The youth group to rave pipeline is real. In fact, when the Intuit Dome opened, I went on opening weekend to see two famous Christian artists perform a concert. The production was immaculate. The mix was booming, and the lights were spinning. I saw Christian women screaming for these married men, and I was taken aback. The next week, I went to a Twenty One Pilots concert. They are Christians, but it's secular music. Let me tell you, I couldn't tell the difference.

Emotions are good, but emotions are limited. When you equate your experience of God with his presence or your love for him, what makes your worship any different from the world's? We cannot base our worship on emotions alone because truth is not ultimately dependent on how you feel. Even if you are sincere in your worship, it can unintentionally become dependent on your feelings.

Don't forget the truth of Jeremiah 17:9: "The heart is more deceitful than anything else and incurable. Who can understand it?" Yet, so often we use our heart as our compass to direct our devotion.

That's what we mean when we talk about emotionalism. When we talk about emotionalism, it's not just about having feelings. It's good to have feelings; we're designed to have them. But emotionalism bases our understanding of who God is exclusively on what we feel about him. We conjure up our own picture of what God must be like, and we worship a god made in the image of how we feel. In other words, emotionalism—worshiping God purely off vibes—is idolatry.

That's exactly what the Israelites did in Exodus chapter 32. Turn back in your Bibles with me to Exodus chapter 32. Exodus is the second book in your Bible. This is after the Israelites have been redeemed out of slavery, crossed the Red Sea, and arrived at Mount Sinai. They were so terrified by the presence of God in Exodus chapter 20 that they ran away from the mountain and told Moses to go up there, otherwise they would die.

While Moses is up on the mountain, the Israelites get so bored that they decide to commit the sin of idolatry. They go to Aaron and tell him to make an idol for them to worship. Aaron takes all of their gold, melts it together, forms a golden calf, and tells them, "Israel, this is your god who led you out of the land of Egypt."

This is what happens in verse 15 of Exodus 32:

Then Moses turned and went down the mountain with the two tablets of the testimony in his hands. They were inscribed on both sides—inscribed front and back. The tablets were the work of God, and the writing was God’s writing, engraved on the tablets. When Joshua heard the sound of the people as they shouted, he said to Moses, “There is a sound of war in the camp.” But Moses replied,It’s not the sound of a victory cry and not the sound of a cry of defeat; I hear the sound of singing! As he approached the camp and saw the calf and the dancing, Moses became enraged and threw the tablets out of his hands, smashing them at the base of the mountain. He took the calf they had made, burned it up, and ground it to powder. He scattered the powder over the surface of the water and forced the Israelites to drink the water.

— Exodus 32:15-20 (CSB)

Notice what these people are doing in light of their feelings. In response to a God whom they didn't feel was tangible—a God they couldn't touch—they asked Aaron, "Give us something that we can feel. Something we can see. Something that strikes our hearts."

So, he makes this golden calf. They are able to see it with their eyes and behold this idol, and they respond in worship. In fact, this idol is identified as the god who led them out of the land of Egypt.

Do you know what enrages Moses when he comes down into this camp? It's not debauchery. It's not drunkenness. What enrages Moses as he goes down into the camp is that he hears the sound of singing—a joyful noise, a redemption song, to a calf masquerading as Yahweh.

Now, here's what's interesting. If you read the entire book of Exodus and go to chapter 15, right after they are led through the Red Sea, you know what they do? They burst out into song. They had every reason to. God saved them from the hands of Pharaoh and almighty Egypt. So, they burst out into song. Here in chapter 32, they are doing the exact same thing.

Here's my question: can you tell the difference? You can have a golden calf, an Asherah pole, a mosque, or even a cross. If your worship is solely determined by your emotions or your perception of who God must be to you, you might be worshiping an idol with Jesus' name tag slapped onto it.

Whether it's an idol made by human hands or by human hearts, both are false gods. Your heart is capable of earnestly, sincerely worshiping a false god. Sincere worship of a false god is still false worship. If your emotions are your compass, Satan will draw you away the way an anglerfish draws in its prey. Whether it's a church service or Coachella, you won't be able to tell the difference. So, you have to get it right.

The Danger of Rationalism

But is that enough? No, because your thoughts alone are not enough to God. Point two: the dangers of rationalism.

Thoughts are good, but thoughts are limited. Worship must be true, but it is not only truth. John 4:24 tells us that God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth. A mere recitation of facts is not worship.

A couple of years ago, John Piper asked ChatGPT to write a prayer in the theology of Don Carson. He read this genuinely and marvelously written prayer out loud in front of a huge audience, and he asked, "Is that worship?" He said, "No!" Because ChatGPT can't feel.

I wasn't sure, so I asked ChatGPT myself. This is what it said:

"No, I'm not capable of worshipping God. Worship requires a heart, a will, a soul—things only living beings made in the image of God possess. I can describe, explain, or even help craft worshipful content like prayers, sermons, or hymns, but I don't have consciousness, love, or reverence. Those are essential for true worship, which is something only humans and spiritual beings can offer."

I think it was trying to tempt me, but it tells you ChatGPT knows how to kiss up to me because that's exactly what my itching ears wanted to hear.

Think about 1 Corinthians 13:1: "If I speak human or angelic tongues, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal." You can do all the right things while simultaneously loving all the wrong ones.

After all, this is exactly what God indicts Israel for doing in Isaiah 29. He says his people approach him with their speeches to honor him with lip service, and yet their hearts are far from him. You can generate all the right words while simultaneously having a dead heart.

Think about it. What do you think God really wants? Does he want you to check a box? Of course not. Psalm 51 tells us what God wants:

You do not want a sacrifice, or I would give it; you are not pleased with a burnt offering. The sacrifice pleasing to God is a broken spirit. You will not despise a broken and humbled heart, God.

— Psalm 51:16-17 (CSB)

You realize what God is saying, even in the Old Testament, despite all the rules and regulations that existed for the nation of Israel. There were entire sections of Leviticus detailing exactly how to precisely execute these sacrifices, yet David's confession in Psalm 51 makes clear that this is not ultimately what God wants. It's not what pleases him.

It doesn't matter if you come to church every Sunday. It doesn't matter if you go to a confession booth and talk to a priest. It doesn't matter how much merit you accrue in your life. What God desires is your heart. God is a personal being; he is not a vending machine. You can't just put in obedience coins and plunk out grace and forgiveness. He wants your heart.

Imagine this: if you were a father and you told your kids to go clean their room, and one kid came back and said, "Dad, I cleaned my room. Do you love me now?" Is that heartwarming? I would call that a tragedy.

You can follow the regulative principle, which I'll talk about later. You can lead your people in singing doctrinally rich songs. You can say and do all the right things all your life, but if at the end of your life you look at God and say, "Do you love me now?"—that is a tragedy. That's not what God delights in.

But the good news of the gospel is in the second half of that verse: "The sacrifice pleasing to God is a broken spirit. You will not despise a broken and humbled heart, God."

God is not asking for your perfect heart. This is not about accruing enough merit to be able to stand before a holy God. He is asking for your broken heart—your sinful, repentant, broken, exhausted, stumbling heart. The guarantee from Scripture in Psalm 51 is that when you go before a true God with your stained soul, God assures you in his own Word that he will not despise you.

You are completely covered by the blood of Christ poured out for you on the cross, paying the penalty for the wrath of God in full, and he is risen from the dead, victorious over sin and death. He offers you that kind of forgiveness. It is precisely that humbling of the heart that pleases God and brings him delight.

Worship is more than just us seeing God rightly. While we may seek to see God rightly, God also sees us. Regulated rules or getting things correct doesn't create worship any more than clear boundaries create a relationship.

Now, are boundaries good to have in any relationship? Yes, you need trust. Rules help detail and outline the commitments that you make, but they themselves don't make a relationship. They themselves don't make the commitment. Rationalism is not enough, and experientialism is not enough. What we need is true worship.

The Delight of True Worship

Turn in your Bibles to Psalm 34, verse 8. I love what David says here, even as he is running for his life. He says: "Taste and see that the Lord is good."

Notice what David says there. He doesn't just state it as a dry fact. He doesn't just say, "The Lord is good," nor does he even say, "Understand, chew on, or meditate on that." He says, "Taste." He says, "See." These are sensory words. His language is deliberate. He follows it up immediately by saying, "How happy is the person who takes refuge in him."

There is emotion there. He is saying, "You are blessed. There is joy available for you in knowing that God is good." There is true happiness.

In other words, there is understanding cognitively that God is good, and then there is delighting that God is good. I can know that a steak is delicious. But when I sit down to a reverse-seared, pre-micro-brined, medium-rare ribeye, and I get to taste it as it's drenched in butter and garlic—some of you may be looking forward to lunch now—you get to taste and see that the steak is good.

It's not enough to know that you have refuge in God. It's not enough to cognitively understand the doctrines of God's goodness, his simplicity, or even his glory. You need to taste and see. You can only do that if you know the true God. Worshiping a false god will be as satisfying for you as those cheap, freeway-exit ribeye steaks.

If you see him rightly as he reveals himself in the Word, if you understand the true Lord, if you delight in knowing him, and if you intentionally orient your heart towards the worship of God, then you will crave a true knowledge of him. You will want to behold the King in his beauty.

This is why doctrine and delight work together in worship. Regulations protect worship, and affections generate worship. I'll say that again: regulations protect worship, and affections generate worship.

Another way of saying it is that doctrine or truth guides, and affection propels. One sets the direction, and the other drives you forward.

That's why we believe in what we call the regulative principle. That's a fancy theological SAT term, but all it means is this: you should worship God the way he wants you to. Specifically, the way he tells you to in his Word. That means you are not going to do things that God never asked you to do.

There may be all sorts of wonderful, sincere things that you want to do for God that do not belong in the public service of worship in the congregation because God has already told us what we should be doing. We don't want to end up like Nadab and Abihu in Leviticus 10. These priests offered up strange fire in worship to God. You could argue they were sincere, but God responded by sending down fire from heaven to consume them. Worship of even the right God in the wrong way is wrong worship. We want to worship the true God the true way.

This is why we want to be Word-centered in our worship. It isn't because we are brainiacs, and it's not because I'm a nerd—even though I definitely am a nerd. That's not the main reason why we want to be Word-centered. It's because we know that the Word is where we get to know the true God.

Imagine if you decided to divorce knowledge and love in any other relationship. Imagine if Megan decided to talk to me and I told her, "No, be quiet. Stop talking. I just want to feel you." Is that true love? Is that true affection? No. In the same way, some people try to love God without ever listening to what he has to say. That is why our worship needs to revolve around the Word.

There are four aspects to our Word-centered worship:

First, we pray the Word. We want God's Word to shape the way that we pray and speak to him. All throughout the Psalms and the rest of the Bible, you see examples of people praying to God. Jesus instructs us to pray to the Lord. The New Testament tells us to offer psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. We pray to God.

I love what one pastor said: "You should pray long enough that fake Christians are bored in your service as you talk to the God they pretend to worship." That's what we want to do. We try to model that in various ways. You can pray on your own throughout the week, you can pray together on Sunday nights as we share prayer requests, or we can pray written prayers in the mornings to meditate on specific aspects of who God is or to confess our sins at length. We want to pray the Word back to God.

Second, we hear the Word. In the recitation of God's Word and the preaching of God's Word, we go before God and get to hear what he has to say. That's why we read Scripture in our services. That's why I open every sermon by reading the Scripture passage we are walking through, because those words are more important than anything I have to say.

We want to spend time meditating on God's Word, steeping in it. That's exactly what the early church did in Acts 2 as they sat under the apostles' preaching. In the early church, only about 10% of the people could read. So, they would sit in synagogues or public places and listen to God's Word being read for hours, meditating on it throughout the week. It's exactly what the Bereans did in Acts 17 as they eagerly examined the Scriptures after Paul's teaching to see if what he said was true.

Third, we see the Word. We see the Word as we fellowship together. Ephesians 3:10 tells us that the manifold wisdom of God is displayed to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places. Think about that: the manifold wisdom of God—the knowledge and glory of God—is being displayed to a broken world every Sunday that we gather together.

As you care for each other, love one another, pray for each other, laugh together, and partake in the Lord's Supper and baptism—two physical gospel ordinances that make the church visible—what we are doing is displaying the Word of God and the truth of the gospel in our fellowship, reminding each other of the glories of Christ.

Fourth, we sing the Word. We sing the Word because our songs are where our love and knowledge collide in worship to a holy God. That's why we want to sing songs that have substance. We want to think about our almighty Savior to deepen gospel truths that will comfort us, not just when things are good, but even on our deathbeds.

I want to be clear: when we talk about having deep or theologically robust songs, I don't mean they have to be overly wordy. We are not trying to pass some English exam. Think about Psalm 136, for example. What phrase keeps showing up in every single verse of Psalm 136? "His faithful love endures forever." Over and over again: "His faithful love endures forever." The psalm is almost as repetitive as any modern chorus. Yet, with every repetition, it presses deep gospel truths into the heart that we need to know. In every circumstance in the past, God has been faithful. In every circumstance you are in now, God will continue to be faithful. We want to meditate on substance that makes our hearts sing.

We believe that when we know the true God and love him, that is where the Spirit begins to work. There is a reason why God didn't just give us a bulleted list of facts. He could have done that; he could have given us a fact sheet instead of a Bible. But he didn't. Instead, the Bible is full of narrative, poetry, and discourse, and each of these forms engages our imagination. God uses artistry, creativity, and beauty to capture our affection.

There is a reason why, when Adam saw Eve in the garden, he burst into song and poetry. There is a reason why Paul, at the end of Romans 11, cries out, "Oh, the depth of the riches and the wisdom and the knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments and untraceable his ways!" If you spent eleven chapters meditating on the glories of the gospel the way Paul did, you would want to sing, too. All these truths are like gunpowder kegs that our love ignites as we burst into worship towards the heavens.

Practical Applications for True Worship

So, what do we do? We should do three things.

First, deny dichotomies. Specifically, I want you to deny the head-heart dichotomy. Spurgeon was once asked how he reconciles God's sovereignty and human responsibility, and his response was amazing. He said, "Reconcile? I don't reconcile friends."

In the same way, your head and your heart are not pitted against each other. They work in harmony. Think about the way God created the universe. As he speaks, the Father uses his voice, but he also uses his breath. You need wind, air pushing out. In other words, you have the Spirit, which is the Hebrew word for breath or spirit. But you can't just exhale; your mouth is also forming words. As God the Father says, "Let there be light," the entire Trinity is acting together in creation. The same thing is true in our singing—not in a creation sense, but in a breath and knowledge sense. You are using your breath to form words to express true love. Your head and your heart work together.

Many people paint knowledge and the heart as though they are opposing forces. I want you to know they are both good. Do not fall into the trap of pointing fingers at the Pharisees as though their problem was that they knew too much. The Pharisees' problem wasn't that they knew too much; if you read the Gospels, their problem was that they did too much. They were so obsessed with obeying sub-rules they created for themselves that they were distracted from what God actually said. This is why Jesus constantly cited Scripture back to them, asking, "Have you not read?" Their problem wasn't that they knew too much; it was that they focused on the wrong things.

Don't confuse kind with degree. Many people think about worship as though knowledge is on one side of a scale and love is on the other. They think, "You can't know too much because you have to love God, but don't love too much because you have to stay rational." That's not how love works. Can you ever love God too much? No. Can you ever know God too much? No. You want to maximize both your knowledge and your affection for the Lord.

Look at Paul's prayer for the Philippians in chapter 1, verses 9 through 11, where he engages both love and knowledge at the same time:

And I pray this: that your love will keep on growing in knowledge and every kind of discernment, so that you may approve the things that are superior and may be pure and blameless in the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ to the glory and praise of God.

— Philippians 1:9-11 (CSB)

Notice what he is praying for there. He prays that your love would grow. And how does your love grow? He prays that your love would grow "in knowledge and every kind of discernment." You can picture it like a plant rooted in the fertile soil of the knowledge of God and his Word, receiving nourishment from it. Not only that, but you are growing in the right direction so you can approve the superior things. When you have choices in front of you, how do you know which is better? By knowledge and discernment. Love propels you forward, and knowledge sets the direction.

Second, direct your devotion. That is your job as a member of this church. You have the duty of turning your heart toward the true God, to delight in knowing him and eagerly enjoy him. That means you need to pay attention to what is true.

This is the reason why the Reformation made the sermon the central piece of the worship gathering, because that is when you get to hear the most from God himself through his Word. A friend of mine led an English Reformation tour where he showed old pulpits that had places for timers. Congregations would gift their pastors with hourglasses that were literally an hour long. As the pastor taught, he could keep track of time, and they would sometimes give him two or three turns of the hourglass so he could teach for two or three hours. Someone on the tour exclaimed, "What time did that leave for worship?" The tour guide responded, "Well, at the time they built these pulpits, they could still smell the burning flesh of people who dared to teach the Bible. For them, three hours of hearing God's Word was worship."

That is part of the reason why I don't refer to only singing as "worship." I'm not going to be the word police, but all of it is worship—whether you are praying, singing, or hearing God's Word. All of it is designed to help stir our hearts toward a true God.

This is true not just in what you say, but also in how you say it. We know this in the context of any relationship: you need to watch your tone. "Did I lie?" is not a good excuse for being a jerk. In the same way, in worship, truth and tone work together.

Think about the sermon. If I came up here and read word-for-word what I had written with no inflection in my voice, you would probably be bored. Not only that, but I wouldn't be properly conveying what the Bible has to say. If I read Scripture that says "Shout to the Lord with joy" in a monotone whisper, I am not properly expressing the truth of the passage. Truth and tone work together.

This is why we care about things like melody, artistry, and tonality. For those who lead us in singing, you have a responsibility to use your art, gifts, and excellence to direct our affections toward God. I am not asking you not to be creative; I am asking you to be creative in all the right ways. We have a responsibility to direct our affections toward right doctrine, which means creativity is not inherently bad.

Churches have historically distinguished between what we call the element and the form. There are elements in our worship that God calls us to do, such as reading Scripture, preaching, praying, and singing. But the form those elements take can look different. In an American church, you may hear one person leading prayer from the front. If you walk into a Korean church, you may hear everyone praying out loud together, sounding like an ocean wave. These are different forms of the same element. We won't do things like flag-waving because that is not a biblical element. Yet, within biblical bounds, there is room for creativity.

I want us as a church to avoid flattening our emotional life. We don't want to be monotone because we are too simplistic, nor do we want to communicate disjointed truths about God because our tone doesn't match the truth we are singing. Have you ever walked into a church where every single song sounded like Jesus just won the Super Bowl, even though you had a miserable week and were hurting? We want to make sure our tone matches the truths we talk about.

Our songs try to cover a wide spectrum of emotions, just like the Psalms. This is also why our worship service follows the arc of the gospel. We start by praising God for who he is ("Oh Worship the King"). Then we confess our sins and meditate on our need for Christ ("Not in Me"). We fix our minds on Calvary, and then we respond in faith as we think about the church ("How Sweet and Awful Is the Place"—meaning filled with awe).

We also vary our volume depending on what is appropriate. The musical prodigy Jacob Collier has his audiences sing different harmonies and modulates their volume to capture the emotional life of what is being sung. We do that too. Whether it is a loud song of praise, softening for meditation, or pulling out the instruments entirely so we can hear each other's voices sing of redeeming grace, that intentionality stirs our affections and brings glory to God.

Music is literally an instrument. It's not a choice between the music or the meaning; it is both. If music is the language of the heart and words are the language of the mind, singing fuses them together. There is nothing wrong with the pursuit of genuine beauty within the bounds of what Scripture commands.

Some people worry about "emotional manipulation." They ask, "Isn't it manipulative to use these forms to affect our emotions?" To which I say, yes—and literally everything in your life affects your emotions. If you walk in today and the air conditioning is running, I am up here wearing a nice collar, and someone greets you, those details affect how you feel. If you dress up and put on perfume for a date, is that manipulative? Yes, because you are trying to physically convey an inner truth: that you care about the person and want to honor them. The question isn't whether you are affecting someone's emotions, but whether you are doing it in an honest, truthful, and intentional way. We want our artistry to paint an accurate picture of who God is.

Delight in the Lord

Finally, delight. Music is a potent, powerful gift given to us by a loving God. It is so good that we are frequently tempted to turn it into an idol. But when we use it properly—when we use our singing, praying, meditating, and hearing as a window into the glory of our Lord—we focus our hearts and affections toward our true God and pour out the praises due his name. We bring him glory, and we love him rightly.

After all, isn't that what Christ did for us? The eternal Word of God showed his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. I would call that good news, and that is good news worth singing about.

Let's pray. Lord, we do thank you for this glorious good news of your gospel. We ask, Lord, that you would help us in our worship to know you rightly and to worship you sincerely with our hearts. We pray, Lord, that you would help us to taste and see your goodness now. We pray this in Jesus' name. Amen.