148: Worship
We were on our way to the Isle of Skye in Scotland. Brad was driving and decided to take the “scenic” route {although, let’s be real, any route could have been a scenic route because, to my eyes, every scene in Scotland was mesmerizing}. Anyway, he wanted to take me through an area called Glencoe in the Scottish Highlands. Driving this way would make the trip longer, but Brad assured me it would be worth it.
By nothing less than a miracle, we made it through the tight, congested streets of Edinburgh and onto a wide-open four-lane highway. After dozens of miles on the highway, we got off an exit that led us through a couple small, idyllic villages. As we continued on, we found ourselves on one lonely two-lane road, taking us straight into the heart of Glencoe.
Suddenly, we were driving through the brushstrokes of a painting. The surrounding landscape was quite literally breathtaking. Snow sprinkled the tops of plush, sweeping mountains. I lost count of the waterfalls gushing toward the valley. And as we came around one particular bend, through the mist and drizzle, I witnessed a rainbow so close I could taste it.
Involuntary tears leaked down my cheeks. I was gobsmacked. I felt so incredibly small, so full of amazement I could burst.
For me, it felt like awe. It felt like wonder. It felt like worship.
Worship is a word that might mean different things to different people. For instance, many of us associate worship with music or song. There are those of us who think of gathering together with others, reciting common liturgy. For some, worship happens under a sky full of stars, with the rising or setting of the sun or gazing out at the view from a tall mountain peak. For others still, worship might happen at the kitchen table, quietly recounting God’s faithfulness, expressing gratitude for who God is and all God does for us. The list goes on.
Truly, worship is all of the above and then some. It happens in so many different ways and certainly isn’t something we can contain with a neat and tidy definition or framework. No matter the form, though, I wonder if all worship begins when we offer God our undivided attention. Sometimes an offering like that might be intentional; other times God might capture and overwhelm our attention so fully we can’t help but offer it. Either way, when we allow ourselves to be focused on and moved by the beauty and goodness and glory of God, we worship.
In our last episode, remind{h}er 147, I read Psalm 138, one of several psalms of thanksgiving and praise. Each time I offer a Scripture-reading episode, I invite you as the listener to consider and reflect on what stands out to you in that particular passage. What you might not know is that I not only offer the passage and reflection questions to you, but I also participate with you. I, too, take time to consider what stands out to me, what God might be up to in my own life through the lens of that particular passage.
For me, in Psalm 138, what stood out was worship.
More specifically, I noticed a movement of worship laced throughout the psalm, and this movement begins with directing one’s attention toward the presence of God.
In verse 2, we read, “I bow down toward your holy temple.” When this psalm was written, the temple was where God’s presence dwelled. So, to bow down toward the temple was to orient one’s whole self toward God’s presence.
Then, in verse 3, the psalmist writes, “You increased my strength of soul.” By worshipping, remembering, and focusing on God’s presence, steadfast love and faithfulness, the psalmist’s weary, discouraged soul is strengthened and uplifted.
Finally, the psalmist offers praise for who God is and all God does, and concludes with these words in verse 8: “The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O LORD, endures forever. Do not forsake the work of your hands.”
Part of what Psalm 138 shows us, then, is this: As we fix our gaze on God, our souls are strengthened, and through our worship, God forms us and enables us to continue our participation in God’s good work in the world. I wonder if you noticed this movement, too.
So often, we live distracted, anxious, and on edge. Our souls grow depleted and discouraged. And we find ourselves unable to function faithfully. That is certainly the case in my own life, at least. One thing I’m learning, though, is that when overwhelm is my reality, worship is my rescue. Here’s what I mean:
God does not call us to worship for the sake of God’s own ego; flattery is not the goal. Instead, God calls us to worship because worship is nourishment for our souls. It reorients us, right-sizes us, and reminds us of what is most true. That God is good. That God is present. That God is faithful. And that God will never let us go.
If you are listening in real time, tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day. While each day is an opportunity to worship God, if we’re out of practice, Thanksgiving is a great day to start again. Because so often, worship begins with gratitude; thanksgiving and praise go hand in hand.
Of course, this isn’t an invitation to gloss over what is hard or difficult in our own lives or in the world around us. But it is an invitation to see all things through the lens of God’s character, to trust in God’s provision, to lean on God’s presence in the middle of it all.
Most days don’t include roadtrips through Glencoe; most days are a little more down to earth. And yet, when we take the time to set our gaze on God, to remember who God is and the work of God’s hands, we worship. And we find there are so many reasons to give thanks.
So today, in the midst of the overwhelm, remember to worship. To offer God the whole of your attention. To increase your strength of soul. To continue to participate in the work of God’s hands. May we find reasons and ways to worship all around us, day in and day out, as together, we continue to become the people God calls and invites us to be.