"And Worship Him"
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Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . |
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The Bible and Worship . . . . . . . . |
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Apostasy and Reformation . . . . . . |
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The "Liturgical Renewal" and Adventism . . |
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The Form of the Adventist Worship Service . |
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The Content of the Adventist Worship Service |
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Preaching and Worship . . . . . . . . |
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"An enemy has been at work to destroy our faith in the
sacredness of Christian worship." The context of this statement in Volume
5, page 496, of Testimonies for the Church indicates that the author is
concerned not only with Christian worship in general but with Adventist
worship. A study of the chapter from which this quotation is taken reveals that
at the time it was written the sacredness of worship was inadequately
appreciated in Adventist churches. If the author were to comment on the
situation in many of our churches today, I fear that the verdict would be no
different.
I know many of you share with me a deep concern about this
problem. The success of the church to which we are devoting our lives
depends to a great extent on what happens between eleven and twelve o'clock on
Sabbath mornings. We spend millions of dollars on evangelism, and rightly
so; but the results of our evangelistic efforts will be dissipated if our new
converts are driven away by an irreverent, unsatisfying Sabbath service. We
engage in lay activities that take us up and down the streets of our cities
with literature and with invitations to enroll in Bible courses. This is good;
but are we deterred from the finest possible missionary activity—bringing our
non-Adventist friends to our churches—by failure to provide worshipful Sabbath
services? We emphasize medical evangelism and encourage physicians and dentists
to come to our communities, but do these fine professional men dare to invite
their patients and their colleagues to our services?
These questions demand an answer. Some have sought a solution
in changing the architectural design of the church buildings and increasing the
complexity of the liturgy. Sometimes the results of such efforts, however well motivated, have been
disappointing.
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Toombs says in his Old Testament in Christian Preaching that some such churches become "architecturally and liturgically correct prisons for the incarceration of the Holy Spirit."—P. 157.
What is the answer to the problem of worship in our churches? It will not be found in ignoring the problem. If it is true that an enemy is trying to destroy the sacredness of Christian worship, we need to do something about it. Contentment with confusion, meaninglessness, and immaturity will not defeat this enemy. Neither will the answer be found in an uncritical acceptance of the procedures of some other church. We are Adventists, and we must approach worship as Adventists. A worship service that meets the needs of Methodists, Episcopalians, or Presbyterians may be unsatisfactory for us. The answer will be found in (1) a thorough ,knowledge of the Biblical, theological, and historical aspects of Christian worship, and (2) a thoughtful application of this knowledge to Adventist worship today.
Our ministers and our people, by and large, love God and want to worship Him. Many know the reasons for observing the Sabbath. They have sacrificed much to observe a day of worship, but they have often failed to inform themselves regarding the way of worship. We have published hundreds of books on the day of worship, but I don't know of one single Adventist book on the way of worship. I give my students at the Seminary nearly one hundred titles of books on worship, but I haven't found one Adventist book to include in that list. Is it any wonder we haven't developed an Adventist philosophy of worship?
I would not infer that no thought has been given to this problem. At this point I would express my appreciation to Dr. R. Allan Anderson, whose course in Worship I took at the Semi nary many years ago. I am also mindful of excellent articles in The Ministry and the Review. Most of these articles, however, deal with applications rather than basic principles.
The hundreds of books on worship written by authors of various faiths are helpful, but they do not give us the final answer. Most of the books on worship published in America during the past century constitute the literature of a movement called the
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Liturgical Revival or the Liturgical Renewal. This movement represents a departure from Reformation principles of worship in the direction of medieval patterns. Well-known authors such as Sperry, Underhill, Maxwell, Dix, and Shepherd would substitute in place of the spontaneous, free worship of earlier Protestantism a highly liturgical worship more like that of the Church of England. There are exceptions to this trend, but they are not numerous.
Probably the most articulate defense of traditional, evangelical worship is Ilion T. Jones's A Historical Approach to Evangelical Worship. Unfortunately this book is out of print. Jones is a Presbyterian minister and a retired professor of Practical Theology at San Francisco Theological Seminary. I am greatly indebted to him for ideas and materials, and several quotations from his book will be found in these pages.
Although these chapters, in their original lecture form, were intended for the ministers in attendance at the H. M. S. Richards lectureship held at Washington, D.C., in 1964, it is my hope that the ideals of worship presented in this book will be of interest to other ministers and to thoughtful laymen. Hundreds of church elders and other church officers are concerned regarding their services of worship. Thousands of worshipers are seeking a more satisfying worship experience. If many of the readers of this book can be stimulated to seek a greater insight into the meaning of worship, the entire church will be strengthened and the kingdom of God will be hastened.
NORVAL F. PEASE
Andrews University
1967
THE STARTING POINT in our quest for a philosophy of worship will be the Bible. Andrew W. Blackwood, in his
excellent book The Fine Art of Public Worship, has spoken well:
"In the study of public worship, the best book is the Bible. The teachings there are usually indirect. The
method is that of example rather than precept. The Scriptures are so saturated with the spirit of worship,
and so filled with examples of how to sing and pray to God, that some scholar should write a book on the
subject."—P. 31
The purpose of this chapter will be to survey the Biblical backgrounds which may help us in forming a
theology of worship. I can only sketch the great wealth of material in this field, but I hope this
presentation will motivate a deeper study of what the Bible says about this subject.
The Book of Genesis opens by presenting the basic reason for worship—God is the Creator, and we are His
creatures. God apparently intended that this relationship should be memorialized, for He established the
Sabbath as a weekly reminder of His creatorship. In blessing and sanctifying a day, He recognized time as
a fundamental symbol of worship. The first worship symbol He gave to man was not a tree, a rock, a building,
an altar, or an animal, but twenty-four hours, recurring every seven days. Could anything be more basic,
more universal than time?
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This symbol could not be changed by geography, by culture, or by the passing of the years. To man, time is basic.
But God gave man something more than a holy day. He gave him Himself. He was a companion of Adam and Eve
in the Garden. The relationship was close; the worship was highly personal. After the entrance of sin,
worship continued, but on somewhat different terms. New symbols typified ultimate redemption from his
fallen state. Thus the altar and the lamb came into the picture of worship. The experience of Cain,
whose offering was not acceptable to God, is an early lesson in the fact that worship has theological
significance. It is more than a mere spontaneous gesture, done by man in his own way. It has to be in
harmony with a body of revelation which God has given to man.
As the population increased, worship became more complex. "Then began men to call upon the name of the
Lord." Genesis 4:26. (This was at the time of Enos, the grandson of Adam.) Regarding this verse, the
Seventh-day Adventist Bible Commentary says:
"In his time a more formal worship was begun. Man had of course called upon the Lord before Enos' birth,
but as time went on a more pronounced distinction arose between those who worshiped the Lord and those
who defied Him. The expression `to call upon the name of the Lord' is used frequently in the OT to
indicate, as it does here, public worship (Psalms 79:6; 116:17; Jeremiah 10:25; Zephaniah 3:9)."—Vol. 1, p. 244.
After coming out of the ark, Noah is described as worshiping God. (Genesis 8:20-22.) This worship followed
God's revelation of Himself to Noah, and was followed by God's blessing on Noah.
The same pattern is evident in the Old Testament descriptions of Abraham's relationship to God. In Genesis
12:7 we read, "And the Lord appeared unto Abram, and said, Unto thy seed will I give this land: and there
builded he an altar unto the Lord, who appeared unto him." Genesis 13:14-18 describes God's repetition of
His promise to Abram, and ends with the familiar words, "Then Abram ... built there an altar unto the Lord.
"
When Abraham proved his faith on Mount Moriah,
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he responded to the welcome voice of the angel of God by
offering up the ram for a burnt offering. On another occasion Abraham worshiped his God by giving his tithes
to the priest of God. On yet another, he "planted a tamarisk tree," the Revised Standard Version says,
"in Beersheba, and called there on the name of the Lord, the Everlasting God."
When Abraham's servant recognized how the providences of God had led him in finding a wife for Isaac, he
said, "And I bowed down my head, and worshipped the Lord, and blessed the Lord God of my master Abraham,
which had led me in the right way to take my master's brother's daughter unto his son." Genesis 24:48.
When Jacob met the Lord at Bethel, he responded by setting up a pillar, pouring oil on it, making a vow,
and calling the place Bethel, "God's house." (Genesis 28:18-22.) Years later, God directed Jacob to return
to this same spot and "make there an altar unto God." (Genesis 35:1.) God spoke to him again and renewed to
him the promise which had been given to his grandfather; "and Jacob set up a pillar in the place where he
talked with him, even a pillar of stone: and he poured a drink offering thereon, and he poured oil thereon.
And Jacob called the name of the place where God spake with him, Bethel [the house of God]." (Verses 14,
15.)
These incidents teach us something about worship in pre-Mosaic times. It was characteristically a response
of a man to a personal encounter with God. Man worshiped, not to appease a God whom he feared but to
express
his gratitude and love to a God who had revealed Himself to him. The symbols were simple—an altar, a lamb,
a rock, a tree, a pillar, a bowed head, a place called "the house of God." Worship was very personal and
very real. God came very close to man, and man's response was worship.
During the Mosaic age worship continued to be personal, but new dimensions were added as God shaped Israel into a nation. God confronted Moses at the burning bush, and Moses was directed to remove his shoes because he was standing on holy ground. When Aaron told the nation of slaves that God was about to deliver them, "they bowed their heads and worshipped." (Exodus 4:31.)
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When Moses and Aaron went to Pharaoh, their plea was that Israel should be freed to worship God.
When Israel was delivered, a service of worship was established—the Passover—and God told them, "And ye
shall observe this thing for an ordinance to thee and to thy sons for ever." Exodus 12:24. When Israel
passed safely through the Red Sea, Moses and the people sang a song of praise to their God. Once in the
desert, Israel was reminded by the miracle of the manna of their responsibility to a day of worship. When
God gave the law from Sinai, the first four commandments dealt with worship. Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers,
and Deuteronomy deal largely with two subjects—worship and ethics.
Mosaic worship, as outlined in the Pentateuch, consisted of Sabbaths, special feast days, sacrifices, a Day
of Atonement, a priesthood, and a sanctuary. This system did not evolve—it was revealed. The worship of
Israel was based on theology—a theology including the transcendence of God, the sinfulness of man, the grace
of God, and the necessity of forgiveness.
A perversion of worship appeared in the case of Aaron's golden calf. This incident was serious because it
represented theologically unsound worship. This calf was not the God that brought them out of Egypt. Aaron's
sin was similar to Cain's—substitution of a manner of worship formulated by man for the manner revealed by
God.
The final public act of Moses was a song of worship (Deuteronomy 32) in which five times he characterized
God as a Rock. "He is the Rock," said Moses, "his work is perfect: for all his ways are judgment: a God of
truth and without iniquity, just and right is he." Verse 4. This was worship of the highest order.
During the Mosaic age, worship became more complex to fit developing theological concepts. Place became more significant with the development of a nation. A priesthood became an integral part of the program. The central theme was sacrifice, but the personal nature of worship was retained, because many of the sacrifices were personal. Although the details were minutely prescribed, there was only one prescribed prayer—the priestly benediction
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of Numbers 6:24-26. This system of worship had a special purpose as pointed out in Patriarchs and Prophets, page 358: "Thus in the ministration of the tabernacle, and of the temple that afterward took its place, the people were taught each day the great truths relative to Christ's death and ministration, and once each year their minds were carried forward to the closing events of the great controversy between Christ and Satan, the final purification of the universe from sin and sinners."
The history of Israel from their conquest of Canaan to the captivity was marked by a constant struggle
regarding worship. One problem was the attractive cult of Baal worship, a cult marked by ethical standards
as low as its liturgy was fascinating. This worship was a return to Aaron's golden calf and all that it
represented. The judges attacked this problem. Samuel established the schools of the prophets, one of the
purposes of which was to maintain the worship of God. Elijah fought this false worship manfully.
By the time of the eighth-century prophets, Israel's worship had degenerated into empty form, made
meaningless by low moral standards. Amos quoted the Lord as saying, "I hate, I despise your feast days,
and I will not smell in your solemn assemblies. Though ye offer me burnt offerings and your meat offerings,
I will not accept them: neither will I regard the peace offerings of your fat beasts. Take thou away from me
the noise of thy songs; for I will not hear the melody of thy viols. But let judgment run down as waters,
and righteousness as a mighty stream. Have ye offered unto me sacrifices and offerings in the wilderness
forty years, O house of Israel? But ye have borne the tabernacle of your Moloch and Chiun your images, the
star of your god, which ye made to yourselves. Therefore will I cause you to go into captivity, . . .
saith the Lord, whose name is The God of hosts." Amos 5:21-27.
Hosea, Isaiah, Micah, and others repeated this refrain over and over again, but with little effect.—Prophets
and Kings states:
"The temple services were continued as in former years, and multitudes assembled to worship
the living God; but pride and formality gradually took the place of humility and
sincerity. "—Pp. 303, 304.
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The prophets did not attack the sacrificial system as such they resisted its abuses. Worship had become buried
in liturgy and form. Worshipers ignored their ethical responsibilities. Contemporary patterns of worship
supplanted revealed principles. And as a result of this departure from true worship, Israel went into exile.
Reformers such as Josiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel tried in vain to reverse the trend.
After the return from exile, the Temple and the priesthood were reestablished. Much emphasis was placed on
the law, but in place of the spiritual emphasis of the prophets a new variety of externalism which we speak
of as "Judaism" developed. This was the highly ritualistic and legalistic religion that Christ met in His day.
The ritual was maintained by an entrenched priesthood and the legalism by the scribes who worshiped the law.
Despite the failures of Israel, the Old Testament has left a great heritage in the field of worship. The
worship literature, including the Psalms, is unsurpassed. The basic concerns of Old Testament
worship—forgiveness of sins and joy in the Lord—were right, though badly abused. The prophetic emphasis on
ethical worship was unsurpassed. The very failures of the people of the Old Testament teach us valuable
lessons regarding worship. The Old Testament stands almost unique among the literary remains of antiquity
in teaching the worship of one God, without the use of idols, based on love rather than fear, with high
ethical standards.
The ritual of the Old Testament varied with time and place from the vow taken by Jacob over a lonely pile
of stones to the ornate worship of Solomon's Temple. Underlying all of these variations was a revelation
of a God of power, love, and purpose. Old Testament worship was theologically oriented; and when men became
uncertain about their theology, their worship lost its meaning. When prophets of God revived theological
truth, worship came alive again. The revelation of the Old Testament is not to be disregarded. Where, in
all the writings of men, could be found a finer song of praise to God than the 145th Psalm?
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"I will extol thee, my God and King,
and bless thy name for ever and ever.
Every day I will bless thee,
and praise thy name for ever and ever.
Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised,
and his greatness is unsearchable.
"One generation shall laud thy works to another,
and shall declare thy mighty acts.
On the glorious splendor of thy majesty,
and on thy wondrous works, I will meditate.
Men shall proclaim the might of thy terrible acts,
and I will declare thy greatness.
They shall pour forth the fame of thy abundant goodness,
and shall sing aloud of thy righteousness.
"The Lord is gracious and merciful,
slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
The Lord is good to all,
and his compassion is over all that he has made.
"All thy works shall give thanks to thee, O Lord,
and all thy saints shall bless thee!
They shall speak of the glory of thy kingdom,
and tell of thy power,
to make known to the sons of men thy mighty deeds,
and the glorious splendor of thy kingdom.
Thy kingdom is an everlasting kingdom,
and thy dominion endures throughout all generations.
"The Lord is faithful in all his words,
and gracious in all his deeds.
The Lord upholds all who are falling,
and raises up all who are bowed down.
The eyes of all look to thee,
and thou givest them their food in due season.
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Thou openest thy hand,
thou satisfiest the desire of every living thing.
The Lord is just in all his ways,
and kind in all his doings.
The Lord is near to all who call upon him,
to all who call upon him in truth.
He fulfils the desire of all who fear him,
he also hears their cry, and saves them.
The Lord preserves all who love him;
but all the wicked he will destroy.
"My mouth will speak the praise of the Lord,
and let all flesh bless his holy name for ever and ever."
(R.S.V.)
And now we turn to the New Testament. I know of no better way of introducing the
topic of worship in the
New Testament than to read a quotation from The Desire of Ages:
"Christ saw that something must be done. Numerous ceremonies were enjoined upon the people without the proper
instruction as to their import. The worshipers offered their sacrifices with out understanding that they
were typical of the only perfect Sacrifice. And among them, unrecognized and unhonored, stood the One
symbolized by all their service. He had given directions in regard to the offerings. He understood their
symbolical value, and He saw that they were now perverted and misunderstood. Spiritual worship was fast
disappearing. No link bound the priests and rulers to their God. Christ's work was to establish an
altogether
different worship."—P. 157. (Italics supplied.)
The Temple of Christ's day was the one great link with the worship of Israel's past. Its services were
reminiscent of the tabernacle and Solomon's Temple. Jesus' acquaintance with this center of worship began
in childhood and continued throughout His life. Often He taught in its courts and attended its services.
He even paid the Temple tax.
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But it was this Temple that He cleansed with such rigor. He stated that this structure should be "the house
of prayer" rather than a place of merchandise. He even called it His Father's house. The religious teachers
seemed to feel apprehensive that Jesus was a threat to the Temple. At His trial His enemies charged that He
had threatened to destroy the Temple.
The real threat to the Temple and its system of worship was revealed in Jesus' conversation with the
Samaritan woman when He said, "Woman, believe me, the hour cometh, when ye shall neither in this mountain,
nor yet at Jerusalem, worship the Father.... But the hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall
worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the Father seeketh such to worship him. God is a spirit: and
they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth." John 4:21-24.
This was the "altogether different worship" that The Desire of Ages refers to. Ellen White further
develops the meaning of this new worship by stating:
"Not by seeking a holy mountain or a sacred temple are men brought into communion with heaven. Religion is
not to be confined to external forms and ceremonies. The religion that comes from God is the only religion
that will lead to God. In order to serve Him aright, we must be born of the divine Spirit. This will purify
the heart and renew the mind, giving us a new capacity for knowing and loving God. It will give us a willing
obedience to all His requirements. This is true worship. It is the fruit of the working of the Holy
Spirit.
By the Spirit every sincere prayer is indited, and such prayer is acceptable to God. Wherever a soul reaches
out after God, there the Spirit's working is manifest, and God will reveal Himself to that soul. For such
worshipers He is seeking. He waits to receive them, and to make them His sons and
daughters."—P. 189.
(Italics supplied.)
When Jesus hung on the cross, the Temple veil was torn from top to bottom. The service of the Temple had
served its purpose. The reality had come. From that time on every man could approach God directly, without
the ministration of a priest. This experience was not limited by geography, but could take place
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wherever man approached God "in spirit and in truth." This tremendous truth had great implications for divine worship. Temples, altars, animal sacrifices, priests, vestments—"God could do no more for man through these channels. The whole system must be swept away."—Ibid., p. 36.
But it was not only the Temple service with which Jesus was displeased. Since the return from exile, the
synagogue had developed. This was the place of weekly worship—the church of Israel. It is reported that
Jerusalem itself contained over four hundred of these shortly before its destruction in A.D. 70.
Jesus attended the synagogue, even as He visited the Temple. In a synagogue He preached one of His early
sermons, but He was not happy with the worship He saw there. His most vitriolic condemnation was for
people who loved the chief seats in the synagogue. (Matthew 23.) He spoke of those who "love to pray
standing in the synagogues." (Matthew 6:5.) He criticized the "vain repetitions."
The historical records of Jesus' day reveal that the synagogue service contained many formal prayers,
repeated over and over again. The rabbis had developed strict rules governing the way these prayers were
to be offered. The Sabbath services, therefore, had become stereotyped and repetitious. To meet this
situation, Jesus said, "After this manner ... pray ye," and gave the Lord's Prayer; and to this day some
of His followers use it as a formal prayer to be repeated over and over from memory rather than as a sample
to suggest the form and content of free prayer. This is not to suggest that the Lord's Prayer should never
be repeated, but rather that free, spontaneous prayer fulfills the principle that the Lord's Prayer was
given to illustrate.
Although the synagogue of Jesus' day was the model in many respects for the later Christian church, its
liturgy was not Jesus' pattern for His church. He had come to establish something "altogether different."
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Jesus recognized, as did the Old Testament prophets, the importance of ethical worship. He taught it in a
most dramatic way. He said, "If thou bring thy gift to the altar [here is a picture of
the worshiper in the very act of worship as practiced in the Temple], and there rememberest that thy brother
hath ought against thee [here the worshiper recalls some problem in his interpersonal relations]; leave
there thy gift before the altar [don't wait until the gift is offered—leave
it], and go thy way; first be
reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift." Matthew 5:23, 24. This is part of the
"altogether different" nature of Christian worship. It becomes meaningless in the atmosphere of selfishness,
hatred, or impurity. The prophets had taught this centuries earlier. Jesus demanded it of His followers.
Jesus' attitude toward ceremonial washings is also illustrative of His attitude toward worship. He was
concerned about the inward life, not the outward forms. "It is the evil deed, the evil word, the evil
thought, the transgression of the law of God, not the neglect of external, man-made ceremonies, that
defiles a man." —The Desire of Ages, p. 397.
At the close of the Master's life, He employed three symbols which have been used by Christians in their
worship. The first two, the bread and the wine, are used by nearly every Christian communion. The third,
the towel, is used by only a few. These symbols are eloquent in their simplicity. Bread and wine speak to
us of nourishment, and the towel of cleansing. These are almost as fundamental as the original symbol of
time on which worship was founded at the dawn of creation. Truly Jesus set a new pattern for worship, a
pattern that departed from the Old Testament system which had served its purpose. While it resembled the
teaching of the prophets, it had a new content, for the Desire of Ages had come. This "altogether different"
factor was symbolized by the Lord's Supper, the continual reminder of the atonement.
How did this new approach to worship fare after Jesus left His followers? The first meeting of His immediate
followers after His ascension was marked by "prayer and supplication," and a business meeting to fill a
vacancy. The second meeting included the pouring out of the Holy Spirit, a sermon by Peter, who gave his
testimony regarding the risen Lord, and a mass baptism. The new fellowship continued, we are told, "in
breaking of breaking of bread, and in prayers." (Acts 2:42.)
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The believers also worshiped in the Temple and in private homes, and their worship included a great deal of praise and personal testimony.
Sermons were preached in strange places—before the Sanhedrin, prior to a public stoning, in synagogues,
in houses, in chariots, in jails—wherever the need of the moment demanded. The emphasis was on bearing
testimony to the resurrected Christ. The Lord's Supper was observed—sometimes in an improper manner.
There were Scripture readings, singing, offerings, prayers, ecstatic utterances, baptisms, and church
trials. Regarding apostolic worship, Ilion T. Jones says:
"Granted that the pattern of the synagogue worship was followed in general outline, Christian worship was
something else. It was not synagogue worship to which was added another formal feature called the Lord's
Supper; it contained a new ingredient of a different quality and force. For want of a better
term let us
call this new ingredient `spontaneity.' It was this that put `life' into New Testament worship, that made
it dynamic, enthusiastic, intimate, heartfelt, and that distinguished it from other types of worship."—
A Historical Approach to Evangelical Worship, p. 85.
Gaines S. Dobbins, of the Golden Gate Seminary, in his book The Church at Worship makes an excellent
statement regarding New Testament worship and its meaning:
"First-century Christians assembled in order to keep in touch with reality. Life had to be lived, often
under hard circumstances. The Christian witness had to be borne in spite of temptations to evasion and
compromise. Christian service to others had to be rendered notwithstanding their own need. Dissensions
and heresies within the church had to be dealt with, even though it would have been easier to ignore the
problems and difficulties. Worship had to be kept restrained and understandable without chilling the ardor
of those whose enthusiasm led them to ecstatic `speaking with tongues.' Baptism and the Lord's Supper had
to be guarded lest these two simple rites become perverted into saving acts. Salvation by God's grace in
Christ through repentance and faith alone had to be maintained in the face of the contention of the
Judaizers.
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"When the church assembled, it was not just to listen to a sermon and join in songs of
praise—the coming
together of the baptized believers was for serious business in which all members had both the privilege
and the responsibility to participate. Such participation was the essence of worship. Divine guidance was
sought and found that the life of the church might be made relevant to the affairs of men.
"First-century Christians met for edification. It was recognized that Christians need to be `built up.'
Jesus said, `I will build my church,' and in doing so he `went about all the cities and villages, teaching
in their synagogues and preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing every disease and every infirmity'
(Matt. 9:35). "How are Christians edified? According to the practice of Jesus, by engaging in teaching,
preaching, and healing. Following Jesus' example, Christians are to `go about' carrying on this threefold
activity. In order to teach, they must be taught; in order to preach, they must listen to preaching; in
order to heal, they must themselves be healed. Are we not here at the heart of the purpose of church-going?
A church with power is made up of members who come together in the spirit of worship to be so taught and
inspired that they will go out to share with others what they have received."—Pp. 19, 20.
I believe Dobbins has caught the genius of New Testament worship. References to the Christian worship of
that day convince us that these services were extremely varied in type. They may have partaken of the nature
of a revival meeting, an evangelistic service, a business meeting, a testimony service, a prayer meeting,
or a missionary service. The people who attended were faced by two immediate problems: survival and testimony.
As a hated minority they were trying to promote their message in an indifferent or unfriendly world. They
didn't come to church to be anesthetized but to be energized. They recognized they had a mission, and their
worship was centered in Christ, who had laid upon them their mission. Dobbins declares, "Worship in the New
Testament is inseparably related to service."—P. 33. I believe he is right. This was one of the "altogether
different" factors that Jesus introduced.
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We must not introduce a philosophy of worship completely divorced from the realities of Christian activity.
I believe that New Testament worship—which should be our pattern—was characterized by devotion to the
spreading of a message. We must not seek a brand of worship that is purely aesthetic. I believe worship must
be orderly and beautiful, but I believe it should have the functional beauty of a jet airplane rather than
the embellishment of a nineteenth-century railway coach.
Many authors have defined worship. Brenner declares, "Worship is what happens when a good man becomes fully
aware of the presence and purpose of God." Jones says, "Worship . . . is what a thinking man does as he
approaches another thinking being called God." In a sermon given in his church in London during the summer
of 1965, John R. W. Stott defined worship as "the adoring response to God of sinners saved by grace."
These definitions attempt to describe the reality of the worship experience. They endeavor to put in a few
words the Bible picture of man responding to God's love and grace with thoughtful adoration and reverence.
WE HAVE SURVEYED the Biblical backgrounds of worship. We
have recalled the very simple patriarchal worship described in Genesis in
which man responded to the immediate presence of God by bowing his head,
building an altar, offering a sacrifice, planting a tree, or building a
pillar. Then, in Mosaic times, we have watched the development of a complex
ritual with its tabernacle, its priesthood, its prescribed offerings, its
feasts, and its Day of Atonement.
When Israel entered Canaan, we saw the beginnings of a struggle with pagan
worship which was destined to last for centuries. The basic question was,
Would Israel worship one God, without visible representation, who insisted on
ethical standards; or would Israel be attracted by a sensual, glamorous
paganism?
The inroads of Baal worship were no more disastrous than was the impact of
another form of apostasy—the drift into formalism in Israel's own worship.
This trend the prophets fought with zeal. They insisted on spiritual worship,
not measured by statistical reports of the number of animals offered, but by
justice, mercy, and a humble walk with God.
After the return from a long exile, which might have been prevented if Israel
had learned how to worship God, a new type of formalism known as Judaism
developed. This expressed itself in law—worship, with the newly developed
synagogue as the center of the cult.
26
Into this milieu Jesus came. He brushed
aside the supremacy of Temple worship by insisting that God could be worshiped
in spirit and truth—anywhere. He was critical of the liturgy of the
synagogue. He taught a worship that involved a close relationship between man
and a loving heavenly Father, who could be approached directly by any of His
children.
Then we looked at the apostolic church. Its members worshiped fervently and
meaningfully without benefit of buildings, priesthood, altars, or choirs. A
memorial meal, prayer, testimony, singing, preaching, "prophesying,"
mutual encouragement—these were the ingredients of New Testament worship.
The Holy Spirit was the motivating influence, and spontaneity was the prime
characteristic. Ever before the worshiper was the image of a risen Lord, for
whom he knew he might be called upon to give his life. In the words of Ellen
White, the worship Christ established was "altogether different"
from that which had existed before.
But the Biblical records of this apostolic church take us only into the last
half of the first century. A period of a half century or more follows
concerning which we have limited information. This period has been likened to
a tunnel through a mountain range. Surrounding the entrance was the luxuriant
vegetation of the apostolic period with its zeal, originality, and
spontaneity. At the other end of this tunnel was a more arid landscape. The
charismatic thrust of apostolic Christianity had changed, and with changes of
theology came changes in the manner of worship.
From this period of transition just a few fragments of information remain
regarding the worship practices of the time. There is Clement's prayer from
the 53rd chapter of the First Epistle of Clement to the Corinthians,
dated near the turn of the century. This prayer may or may not have had
liturgical significance. There is the letter of Pliny, Roman governor of
Bithynia in Asia Minor, to the Emperor Trajan about A.D. 112. This letter was
written in an endeavor to secure advice as to what to do about the Christian
sect. Pliny described the worship practices of the Christians on the basis of
statements made by Christian slaves whom he had submitted to torture. He said:
27
"They affirmed, however, the whole of their guilt, or their error, was,
that they were in the habit of meeting on a certain fixed day before it was
light, when they sang in alternate verses a hymn to Christ, as to a god, and
bound themselves by a solemn oath, not to any wicked deeds, but never to
commit any fraud, theft or adultery, never to falsify their word, nor deny a
trust when they should be called upon to deliver it up; after which it was
their custom to separate, and then reassemble to partake of food—but food of
an ordinary and innocent kind."—Puny the Younger, Letters X, 96.
While information wrung from tortured slaves would not be considered a prime
historical source, this letter suggests that Christian worship was a regularly
scheduled appointment characterized by songs of praise to Christ and high
ethical idealism, and including the celebration of the Lord's Supper.
A few years later an early church manual known as the Didache appeared.
This manual is a very important bit of evidence regarding early Christian
worship, but we must remember that it may have represented the practices of
Christians in only one area. It would not be safe to assume that Christian
traditions, even at this early date, were the same everywhere. Adaptations of
original Christian teachings can be seen in this document.
For example, in Didache, chapter VII, we read regarding baptism:
"1. Concerning baptism, baptise thus: Having first rehearsed all these
things, `baptise in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy
Spirit, in running water; 2. but if thou hast no running water, baptise in
other water, and if thou canst not in cold, then in warm. 3. But if thou hast
neither, pour water three times on the head `in the Name of the Father, Son
and Holy Spirit.' "
Christians were told to fast on Wednesdays and Fridays, and to repeat the
Lord's Prayer three times a day. Regarding the Lord's Supper, the following
instruction is given in chapter IX:
"1. And concerning the Eucharist, hold Eucharist thus: 2. First
concerning the Cup, `We give thanks to thee, our Father, for the
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Holy Vine of
David thy child, which, thou didst make known to us through Jesus thy child;
to thee be glory for ever.' 3. And concerning the broken Bread: `We give thee
thanks, our Father, for the life and knowledge which thou didst make known to
us through Jesus thy child. To thee be glory for ever. 4. As this broken bread
was scattered upon the mountains, but was brought together and became one, so
let thy Church be gathered together from the ends of the earth into thy
kingdom, for thine is the glory and the power through Jesus Christ for ever.'
5. But let none eat or drink of your Eucharist except those who have been
baptised in the Lord's Name."
Such prayers and formulas, used within a half century of the apostles, have a
different ring from that of the New Testament. Christian church leaders were
now being told what they should say and what they should pray.
We have often read the first clear description of Sunday worship related by
Justin Martyr. Our concern has been that of the day of worship; but this
paragraph is very enlightening as to the way of worship in the
mid-second century. Justin says:
"And on the day called Sunday, all who live in cities or in the country
gather together to one place, and the memoirs of the apostles or the writings
of the prophets are read, as long as time permits; then, when the reader has
ceased, the president verbally instructs, and exhorts to the imitation of
these good things. Then we all rise together and pray, and, as we before said,
when our prayer is ended, bread and wine and water are brought, and the
president in like manner offers prayers and thanksgivings, according to his
ability, and the people assent, saying Amen; and there is a distribution to
each, and a participation of that over which thanks have been given, and to
those who are absent a portion is sent by the deacons."—The
Ante-Nicene Fathers, Vol. 1, p. 186.
When one studies carefully all of the evidence of the second century regarding
Christian worship, he is impressed with how fragmentary it is. A liturgy
cannot be reconstructed on the basis of the few documents we possess. It seems
evident, however, that
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in the day of worship was also modifying the way of worship. This
process will become more obvious as we turn our attention to the third and
fourth centuries.
During these early centuries, Christianity in the Roman Empire was in constant
competition with other religions and philosophies. This was the day of the
mystery religions, of Gnosticism, of emperor worship, of Diaspora Judaism,
and of various other cults. Christianity was influenced by these competitive
philosophies, not only theologically but in its manner of worship. The natural
development of Christianity also brought modifications in worship practices.
The cessation of persecution made public worship possible. The growth in
numbers and wealth was accompanied by the construction of church buildings.
Contemporary culture was exerting a greater influence on the Christian cultus.
As we shall see later, it is to this era—the third and fourth centuries—that
many Protestants of today are turning for their models of worship. An endeavor
is made to "read back" these patterns into apostolic times. The
attempt to build a philosophy of worship on third- and fourth-century patterns
and give it apostolic sanction is almost identical to the attempt to justify
Sunday worship because it was practiced during the third and fourth centuries,
then to try to "read it back" into the Biblical source materials.
From the fourth century onward, the historian of Christian worship notes the
development of various rites. The first complete liturgy that we possess is
the Clementine Liturgy of the Eastern Church, dated from about A.D. 380. About
the sixth century there developed the Roman Rite, on which was built the
medieval Catholic mass. As we view the sweep of Christian worship practices
from the early centuries to the Protestant Reformation, we see certain
specific developments that are extremely significant:
1. The arrangement of the place of worship. The early Christian
churches are thought to have been built after the pattern of Roman
basilicas—court and merchandising halls—which were rectangular in shape
with a semicircular extension at the end. The presiding officer sat on the
platform in the semicircular extension, which contained seats and a pulpit. In
front of him, possibly on a
30
lower platform, was the Communion table. "One
of the best established facts about the whole history of worship is that the
early Christian ministers sat behind the table, and that the table was
unmistakably a table, not an altar and not treated as such."—A
Historical Approach to Evangelical Worship, p. 104. The symbolism was that
of the ministry and the people as equals surrounding the Lord's table.
But a change took place. Somehow—we are not sure just how—the table was
pushed against the back wall and became an altar. The minister's seat was
moved to one side between the altar and the people, and the leader of worship
officiated with his back to the people, facing the altar. The symbolism
changed. Rather than a Communion service with the minister and the people
surrounding the Lord's table as equals, now the celebration of the Communion
became "a priestly act, one in which the minister turns his back upon the
people and goes to an altar as their intermediary to do for them what they are
not privileged to do for themselves."—Ibid. This transformation
of the Communion table into an altar and the minister into a priest was one of
the most noteworthy changes during the early centuries of Christianity.
2. The changes in liturgy. Certain factors were common to the various
liturgies from the fourth century to the Reformation. All were divided into
two parts, the Liturgy of the Word and the Liturgy of the Upper Room. The
Liturgy of the Word included reading the Scripture, prayers, singing,
preaching (sometimes), confession of faith, almsgiving, and some sort of
congregational participation. The Liturgy of the Upper Room included the
bringing of the elements, thanksgiving, the recital of the institution, prayer
of consecration, fraction, and delivery. Communion was based on the
theological tenet of transubstantiation, a belief that the priest performed
the miracle of transforming the emblems into the body and blood of Christ.
This belief made of the Communion service a mystery rather than a memorial.
The general trend of liturgical development was from the simple to the
complex. The number and length of Scripture readings were increased. Prayers
were increased in number and length and
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became more elaborate. Many became
fixed in form. New features were constantly being added to the liturgy. It is
estimated that some of the services probably lasted three hours.
3. The changes in the basic concept of worship. The most radical change
during these centuries was the transformation of the Lord's Supper of the
early church into the Roman mass. The early significance of this service was
fellowship, dedication, memorialization. Gradually it was transformed to a
function of the priesthood, with the Supper being conceived of as an objective
sacrifice by the priest in behalf of the people.
Transubstantiation had become a part of the official doctrine of the Church by
the eighth century. This change was the most fundamental modification in
medieval worship. Many of the variations in form were incidental; this was
basic. The worship service developed into a spectacle, with the worshipers as
spectators rather than participants.
4. Changes in the priesthood. During the early centuries of
Christianity an effort was made to keep the ministry on the same level with
the laity. This also changed. After the first four or five hundred years
clergymen began to wear vestments. There was no uniformity in this process. In
some cases ministerial attire was the street clothes of a previous generation.
In others, specific garments were worn for utilitarian reasons. Once accepted,
however, these vestments took on mystical and symbolic meanings. The basic
principle involved in the development of vestments was the rise of distinction
between laity and clergy, a distinction foreign to early Christian teachings.
One of the major causes of the Protestant Reformation was dissatisfaction with
this Catholic worship. This being true, the Reformation was as much a
revolution in worship as in theology.
Thus was inescapable, because worship is really a reflection of theology.
Donald Macleod, in an article in The Chaplain of April, 1961, has the
following to say on this point:
"At the core of worship of every branch of the Christian church there is
a basic theological emphasis that gives shape and why-ness to the act. In the
main traditions this emphasis appears as follows:
In the Eastern Orthodox Church it is the incarnation and the whole
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subsequent
drama of revelation in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In
the Roman Catholic Church it is Christ's death upon Calvary, and in the
service of the mass the perpetual reenactment of that supreme sacrifice
supposedly takes place. In the Reformed churches it is the proclamation of
God's Will through the preaching of the Word and the celebration of the
sacraments within the community or body of which Christ is the head. This
central theological emphasis in each case authenticates what is done and gives
shape to the liturgy that is used."
The Protestant Reformers did not follow exactly parallel patterns in their
reform of worship. Luther favored holding on to the old forms unless they
seemed to be obviously wrong. He retained vestments, lights, altars, shrines,
and pictures. He consented to the basilican position in conducting the Lord's
Supper, but he himself turned his back to the congregation. Luther's great
contribution was hymn singing. He also repudiated the Roman doctrine of
transubstantiation, although he accepted a somewhat similar concept that came
to be known as consubstantiation. He stressed the importance of preaching. His
order of worship, published in 1526, was very simple, consisting of hymns,
Scripture readings, recitation of the Apostles' Creed, sermon, and an
exceedingly simple celebration of the Lord's Supper.
Zwingli departed further from traditional patterns. He looked at the Communion
service more as a memorial, favored less frequent Communions, and discontinued
instrumental music and congregational singing.
It was at Strasbourg under Martin Bucer that more radical changes took place.
The term "Lord's Supper" replaced "mass," and
"minister" replaced "priest." Worship was conducted from
behind the table. Saints' days were abolished. Vestments were discontinued.
Services were frequently held without Communion. Calvin was influenced by
Strasbourg. His Geneva Rite of 1542 set a pattern which was followed in a
general way for many years by Baptists, Congregationalists, Methodists,
Disciples, and Presbyterians throughout the English-speaking world.
The history of Reformation worship is not complete without
33
reference to
England. As we all know, the English Reformation was political rather than
theological. Worship practices were not greatly altered. This situation was
challenged by the Puritans, who went even beyond continental reformers in
demanding changes. The Puritans opposed vestments, ceremonials, and liturgical
formulas. They stressed preaching and free prayer. They desired to eliminate
all unscriptural phrases in the conduct of the Lord's Supper. They wished to
discontinue saints' days and the church year. Their influence was strongly
felt, and left its mark on the worship of later nonconformist groups.
In order to summarize the accomplishments of the Reformers in the area of
worship, I shall paraphrase and summarize a portion of Jones's chapter on the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. He lists the following achievements of
the Reformers:
1. They abolished the priesthood.
2. They substituted "minister" for "priest."
3. They eliminated confession, absolution, indulgences, penances,
officiating at a sacrifice.
4. They restored services in the vernacular.
5. They increased congregational participation, particularly in the
form of hymn singing.
6. They generally discontinued vestments.
7. They forbade prayers for the saints.
8. They abandoned the Christian year, for the greater part.
9. They revived free prayer.
10. They shortened the service.
11. They introduced the central pulpit, with the Communion table in front of
the pulpit.
12. They turned altars into tables, and conducted the Lord's Supper from
behind the tables.
13. They changed the interpretation of the Lord's Supper.
This was a remarkable accomplishment. In a few short years the traditions of a millennium were completely changed. What motivation was powerful enough to change deeply entrenched traditions so rapidly? The Reformers' success, I believe, was
34
achieved because
they were sincerely endeavoring to restore the New Testament pattern of
worship. The same warmth, spontaneity, and spiritual freedom that gave power
to the New Testament church was felt, to a degree, in the Reformed churches.
This new life could not be experienced until the barnacles of excessive forms,
ritual, and liturgy were removed.
One of the religious movements that helped to preserve Reformation worship for
modern times was the Wesleyan revival in England, which later spread to
America. Warm spontaneity was especially characteristic of this movement. We
are forever in debt to the early Methodists, especially for their music.
Regarding this, Evelyn Underhill says:
"In those early Methodist hymns which spread through England the
forgotten treasures of Christian spirituality, expressed in language which the
simplest worshipper could understand, we find reminiscences of all the masters
of adoring worship. . . . All was penetrated by their passionate delight in
God, the adoring abandonment to His Will and Purpose, the sense of a direct
and enabling relationship with the living Christ. In the greatest of these
hymns, especially those of Charles Wesley, we can recognize the fervour and
realism which swept the country to re-kindle the smouldering devotional life.
They constitute the true liturgy of Methodism."—Worship, pp.
305, 306.
The reformation of worship reached its maturity in the United States. The
spirit of freedom, the influence of Puritanism and of the evangelical revival,
the religious pluralism of the American colonies, created an atmosphere that
encouraged the spontaneity characteristic of New Testament and reformed
worship. Early distrust of Catholicism and of the Church of England tended to
place highly liturgical worship outside the normal pattern of American life.
The American frontier also encouraged informality of worship. Albert Barnes,
Bible commentator, described American evangelical worship as follows:
"We [evangelicals] regard the prevailing spirit of Episcopacy, in all
aspects, high and low, as at variance with the spirit of the age and of this
land. This is an age of freedom, and man will be
35
free. The religion of forms
is the stereotyped wisdom or folly of the past, and does not adapt itself to
the free movements, the enlarged views, the varying plans of this age. . . .
There is a spirit in this land which requires that the gospel shall depend for
its success not on solemn processions and imposing rites; not on the idea of
superior sanctity in the priesthood in virtue of their office; not on
genuflections and ablutions; not on any virtue conveyed by the imposition of
holy hands; and not on union with any particular church, but on solemn appeals
to the reason, the conscience, the immortal hopes and fear of men, attended by
the holy influences of the Spirit of God."—R. Niebuhr and D. Williams,
editors, The Ministry in Historical Perspectives, p. 223.
This was the "faith of our fathers" here in early nineteenth century
America. When American religion rebounded from the depression following the
American Revolution, when the "second awakening" swelled the
churches from the Atlantic seaboard to the frontier, this evangelical,
informal, spontaneous type of religion was ascendant.
Sanctuaries were constructed with a central pulpit, and the Communion table
was on the floor level of the congregation. The Lord's Supper was a memorial,
celebrated monthly or quarterly. Religious art, candles, and symbols were used
sparingly, if at all. Ministers and laymen were kept on the same plane, and
ministers generally did not adopt distinctive dress. The worship order was
simple, with emphasis on the sermon. Orders of service were not standardized.
Worship was strictly evangelical.
In this religious milieu Seventh-day Adventism had its beginnings. This is our
religious tradition. But we hold this tradition today in a world vastly
different from that of a century ago. Protestantism has changed. Church
buildings have changed. Church services have changed. The past century has
marked a revolution in American worship with far-reaching implications. What
has brought about this change? What does it mean to us? This will be the
subject of the next chapter.
IN OUR historical survey of Christian worship, we saw the pendulum swing from
the spontaneity of early church worship to the formalism of medieval worship
and back to the spontaneity of reformed worship. We shall watch that pendulum
as it swings part way back in the direction of formalism.
In the Time magazine of December 22, 1961, appeared an article entitled
"Liturgical Renaissance" describing in part the same phenomena that
the title of our chapter includes under "Liturgical Renewal."
Another name given to this movement is Liturgical Revival. By whichever name
we call it, we are describing a trend of the past century toward more liturgy
in Protestant worship.
The Time article begins by describing a Christmas service held at the
St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Chicago. This service included "four choral
Eucharists, at which all the prayers and responses will be sung in plain
chant." The pastor was to dress "in full Eucharistic
vestments—alb, stole, maniple and chasuble, all in white."
"Candles, as well as a Cross, will be carried in processions that begin
and end the services." This same Lutheran church, the article states,
"has instituted daily morning prayer, Communion service on Sundays and
saints' days, an evening vigil at Easter; private confession is available to
any parishioner who wants it."
And lest the reader might think this Lutheran church an exception, the article
goes on to say:
38
"Across the country among Methodists, Episcopalians, Presbyterians and
Lutherans, a radical reform in both the form and content of religious services
is now under way. It is a liturgical revival that both goes back to primitive
Christianity in its emphasis on the Communion service as the central sacrament
of worship and, at the same time, is immensely sophisticated in welcoming back
much of the traditional richness of the church."
The article recalls how "the Protestant Reformation emphasized the
preaching of God's word in sermons at the expense of sacramental
worship." "In church architecture, the pulpit replaced the altar as
the focus of congregational interest. But U.S. Protestantism, notably since
World War II, has begun to turn sharply away from this kind of religious
individualism." The characteristics of this so-called
"Renaissance" are listed in some detail:
First, the Communion service is replacing the sermon as the central item in
the order of worship. Second, the ecclesiastical calendar is being restored.
Third, vestments are being worn by a growing percentage of the clergy. Fourth,
the pulpit is being moved "from a central position to one side, placing
the new focus on the Communion table."
Thus we see the accomplishments of the Protestant Reformation being nullified,
one after another. In describing this trend Dr. Robert S. Michaelsen, dean of
the School of Religion, Iowa University, says:
"An examination of such factors as church architecture, the organization
of the service, the curricula of the seminaries, and the books read by the
minister would indicate some of the changes taking place in the conception and
practice of the Protestant ministry in this century. Very few churches are
building mammoth auditoriums with pulpits at the center of the chancel. The
chancel is likely to be divided with pulpit on one side, lectern on the other,
and altar in the center. Sermons are shorter than they were a generation or
two ago. More of the service is given over to prayers, confessions, responsive
readings, Scripture readings, and singing."—R. Niebuhr, ed., The
Ministry in Historical Perspective, p. 285.
Jones closes his chapter in which he discusses this liturgical
39
revival by
pointing out that it was about 350 years from the days of Jesus until the
early church departed radically "from the simple, spiritual, evangelical
worship which was originally used." Then he recalls that it was about 350
years from the time the Protestant Reformation reached its climax until the
beginning of the liturgical reforms here described. He asks, "Is history
. . . repeating itself? . . . Must liturgical worship again replace
evangelical worship?"
Why have the Protestant churches of today departed from the ways of worship of
the Reformation and reverted to the forms of earlier centuries? The answer is
a complex one, but an effort must be made to discover some of the reasons.
Part of the explanation lies in the realm of psychology. Massey Shepherd, the
most prolific modern writer pushing the liturgical renewal, takes the position
that free, spontaneous devotion is for "spiritual athletes who keep
themselves in condition, so to speak, by intense cultivation of the interior
life of prayer" (The Chaplain, April, 1961). "Yet," he
continues, "we know that to sustain such free worship at a level of
excellence, over extended periods of time, demands an almost superhuman genius
of spiritual leadership. In fact, it cannot be done except amongst the most
intimate and disciplined groups."
In other words, highly liturgical worship demands less spiritual stature on
the part of the worshiper than evangelical worship. The "props" of
liturgy appeal to man's sensual side. Evangelical worship is mature and
spiritual. It is, as Jones defines it, "what a thinking man does as he
approaches another thinking being called God." It demands the full use of
the mental faculties. It is intended to change people's minds through the
processes of persuasion.
One of the basic principles of Protestantism is the priesthood of all
believers. This means that a man may make direct, unmediated approach to God.
This in itself is a challenge to man's mind. Man is a responsible person. When
he worships, he is not merely enjoying the aura of psychologically induced
sensations. He is approaching God as a thinking person. Is this concept to be
replaced by the idea of liturgy as a crutch for the minister? Must he use
prepared prayers? Must the service be prescribed, requiring little
40
originality
on his part? In response to the argument that evangelical worship expects too
much of the minister, Jones says:
"And it should be said quite frankly that there is no reason whatever for
entrusting preaching, pastoral care, and other forms of leadership to
Protestant ministers who cannot be entrusted with worship.... If Protestant
ministers are not qualified to be ministers in the full Protestant sense or
are unwilling to qualify themselves by proper training and discipline, then
Protestantism might as well be abandoned for a form of religion that is easier
and less exacting."—P. 293.
So there are psychological reasons for the liturgical revival. The old
Calvinistic and Puritan individualism became galling to the spirit of many
people. Vestments, jeweled altars, incense, enchanting music, appealed to the
senses and required less personal, intellectual, and spiritual involvement.
The restored worship of medieval times has an aesthetic quality hallowed by a
long tradition. It can reach all classes of people on a common emotional level
with very little intellectual stimulus or ethical demand. Its mass appeal is
greater because it requires less of the worshiper. As Americans have grown
soft, they have adopted a less demanding way of worship. The liturgists have
culture on their side because they are adapting to the climate of the age.
Liturgical worship, we have noted, also demands less of the minister. Shepherd
admits that "the minister is relieved of carrying the whole burden of
making the service `meaningful.' In fact, the minister's talents, personality,
and ability to `put it across' become very secondary."
Thus the psychological cards are stacked in favor of the liturgical renewal.
Congregations and pastors alike find highly liturgical worship less demanding,
more aesthetically attractive, more con genial to the culture of an affluent
society. This psychological factor is commented on in The Great
Controversy:
"Many Protestants suppose that the Catholic religion is unattractive and
that its worship is a dull, meaningless round of ceremony. Here they mistake.
While Romanism is based upon deception, it is not a coarse and clumsy
imposture. The religious service of the
41
Roman Church is a most impressive
ceremonial. Its gorgeous display and solemn rites fascinate the senses of the
people and silence the voice of reason and of conscience. The eye is charmed.
Magnificent churches, imposing processions, golden altars, jeweled shrines,
choice paintings, and exquisite sculpture appeal to the love of beauty. The
ear also is captivated. The music is unsurpassed. The rich notes of the
deep-toned organ, blending with the melody of many voices as it swells through
the lofty domes and pillared aisles of her grand cathedrals, cannot fail to
impress the mind with awe and reverence.
"This outward splendor, pomp, and ceremony, that only mocks the longings
of the sin-sick soul, is an evidence of inward corruption. The religion of
Christ needs not such attractions to recommend it. In the light shining from
the cross, the true Christianity appears so pure and lovely that no external
decorations can enhance its true worth. It is the beauty of holiness, a meek
and quiet spirit, which is of value with God.
"Brilliancy of style is not necessarily an index of pure, elevated
thought. High conceptions of art, delicate refinement of taste, often exist in
minds that are earthly and sensual. They are often employed by Satan to lead
men to forget the necessities of the soul, to lose sight of the future,
immortal life, to turn away from their infinite Helper, and to live for this
world alone.
"A religion of externals is attractive to the unrenewed heart. The pomp
and ceremony of the Catholic worship has a seductive, bewitching power, by
which many are deceived; and they come to look upon the Roman Church as the
very gate of heaven. None but those who have planted their feet firmly upon
the foundation of truth, and whose hearts are renewed by the Spirit of God,
are proof against her influence. Thousands who have not an experimental
knowledge of Christ will be led to accept the forms of godliness without the
power. Such a religion is just what the multitudes desire.".—Pp, 566,
567.
This evaluation is equally applicable to Protestant worship whenever
Protestant worship departs from its original spontaneity and becomes like
Catholic worship.
42
The psychological factor is not the only reason for the liturgical revival.
Another equally potent influence is to be found in theological change. Worship
reflects the theology of the worshipers. When the Protestant Reformation
declared itself regarding the three great theological principles of salvation
by faith alone, of the priesthood of all believers, and of the Bible as the
rule of faith and conduct, it thereby determined to some extent its mode of
worship. No priesthood could arise in a Communion that believed in the
priesthood of all believers. Therefore, there would not be a priestly,
sacrificial, temple worship.
When the Bible became the rule of theology, it also became the pattern for
worship. The apostolic patterns were far different from those of the third and
fourth centuries. This type of worship challenged man's personal
responsibility and imparted an intellectual quality to his relation to God. It
tended to reduce liturgy to a minimum and to increase the importance of the
spoken word. This type of theology reached its fullest development in the free
atmosphere of the United States during the early nineteenth century.
But changes in theology were in the making. German theologians were raising
questions regarding the Bible. The supernatural was being challenged. Such
basic principles of Reformation Christianity as the incarnation of Christ,
the miracles, the atonement, and the bodily resurrection of Christ were being
questioned. A blatant liberalism thrived for a time; this has now largely
given way to a veiled liberalism sometimes known as neoorthodoxy.
But under whatever banner modem Christianity holds forth, it has lost its
evangelicism, it has sacrificed its supernatural nature, it has reduced Christ
from God in the flesh to a Spirit-filled man, it has made the Bible merely the
story of man's effort to find God, and it has taken the reality out of the
future life.
These far-reaching changes in theology, I am firmly convinced, are partly
responsible for the liturgical revival. Paul Tillich in his Dynamics of
Faith makes this statement:
"But faith cannot remain alive without expressions of faith and the
personal participation in them. This insight has driven Protestantism to a new
evaluation of cult and sacrament in our period.
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Without symbols in which the
holy is experienced as present, the experience of the holy vanishes."
—P. 121.
Why does Tillich say this? He and those who agree with him reduce creation,
miracles, resurrection—everything that offends the modern mind—to myth. The
worshiper who holds his view point can no longer consider the Sabbath as a
memorial of a real creation; he can no longer worship a Christ who died for
his sins and who intercedes for him in heaven; he can no longer worship a
Christ who came forth from the tomb on Easter morning; he can no longer
worship a "living God" in the sense that the Bible describes God.
What then must the Christian do? He must have symbols to represent the holy,
for the holy has no objectivity of itself. Cult and sacrament then become
essential to a church that has been stripped of much which it once possessed.
The evangelical Christian can worship a God who creates and sustains; he can
worship an incarnate, resurrected, everlasting, soon-coming Christ. He
requires only the basic symbols of communication to engage in such worship,
for he is worshiping objective realities and not subjective philosophical
concepts. When the resurrection of Christ becomes merely a notion of the early
Christian church, there is no resurrected Christ to worship. When creation
becomes myth, there is no Creator to worship.
Another motivation for the liturgical revival has been the ecumenical
movement. During recent years, the services of Protestant churches have been
slowly approximating uniformity. The average Protestant may feel quite at home
in the service of most denominations. Nor
has this trend been limited to Protestantism. Rome has also been experiencing
a liturgical renewal. The recent Vatican Council dealt with matters of liturgy
and went so far as to authorize the development of a liturgy in the
vernacular. We are watching Catholicism and Protestantism as they move closer
and closer together in matters of liturgy. Shepherd says:
"There is now available an agreement among scholars of both the Roman
Catholic and Protestant traditions about the meaning of Christian worship that
can only be attributed to the miraculous
44
working of the Holy Spirit. The
liturgical reforms now taking place in the Roman Catholic Church are more
extensive and far-reaching than anything witnessed in a thousand years and
more. ... Protestant churches which hitherto have spurned or have lost
interest in liturgical usages are now exploring and experimenting." —The
Chaplain, April, 1961.
The title of this chapter is "The `Liturgical Renewal' and
Adventism." To this point we have reviewed some of the developments of
our day, and we have seen that recent years have been marked by radical
changes in Protestant worship and by some modifications in Roman Catholic
worship. What does this trend mean to us as Adventists?
We have not been greatly influenced by the liturgical revival. In scattered
instances, no doubt, we have allowed aesthetic considerations to cause us to
do things that are out of harmony with our Adventist theology. These
occasional deviations, I am sure, were well intentioned and resulted from lack
of understanding rather than from ulterior motives. Our basic worship problems
cannot be traced to an acceptance of the liturgical renewal.
I do not mean to imply that we can be satisfied with the standards of worship
in our churches. We are aware of crying needs for improvement, but this
improvement must not be sought by following the lead of the liturgical
revivalists. We need to look in an entirely different direction. We need to
remember that worship can be spontaneous, Spirit-filled, Protestant, simple,
Biblical, and still possess beauty, order, and reverence.
We especially need to remember this great truth in these days of the
liturgical renewal, because whatever shortcomings modem Christian worship may
have, it does have beauty, order, and a type of reverence. In many
cases the people whom we attempt to reach in our evangelistic services are
accustomed to carefully planned worship services, although they may not be
evangelical. If we neglect beauty, order, and reverence in an endeavor to
avoid formalism and sacerdotalism, we miss a vital part of Christian worship.
We need a liturgical revival, but not the kind that is going on in the
Christian world around us.
45
Why do I imply that reforms are in order in our churches? I base my contention
on a familiar chapter in Volume 5 of Testimonies for the Church entitled
"Behavior in the House of God." I quote the following selections
from this chapter:
"To the humble, believing soul, the house of God on earth is the gate of
heaven. The song of praise, the prayer, the words spoken by Christ's
representatives, are God's appointed agencies to prepare a people for the
church above, for that loftier worship into which there can enter nothing that
defileth. . . .
"There has been a great change, not for the better, but for the worse, in
the habits and customs of the people in reference to religious worship. The
precious, the sacred, things which connect us with God are fast losing their
hold upon our minds and hearts, and are being brought down to the level of
common things. The reverence which the people had anciently for the sanctuary
where they met with God in sacred service has largely passed away.
Nevertheless, God Himself gave the order of His service, exalting it high
above everything of a temporal nature....
"There should be rules in regard to the time, the place, and the manner
of worshiping. Nothing that is sacred, nothing that pertains to the worship of
God, should be treated with carelessness or indifference."—P. 491.
"When the worshipers enter the place of meeting, they should do so with
decorum, passing quietly to their seats. . . . Common talking, whispering, and
laughing should not be permitted in the house of worship, either before or
after the service....
"If when the people come into the house of worship, they have genuine
reverence for the Lord and bear in mind that they are in His presence, there
will be a sweet eloquence in silence."—P. 492.
"All the service should be conducted with solemnity and awe, as if in the
visible presence of the Master of assemblies....
"Sometimes young men and women have so little reverence for the house and
worship of God that they keep up a continual communication with each other
during the sermon."—P. 493.
"No wonder our churches are feeble and do not have that deep, earnest
piety in their borders that they should have. Our present
46
habits and customs,
which dishonor God and bring the sacred and heavenly down to the level of the
common, are against us. . . .
"It is too true that reverence for the house of God has become almost
extinct. Sacred things and places are not discerned; the holy and exalted are
not appreciated. Is there not a cause for the want of fervent piety in our
families? Is it not because the high standard of religion is left to trail in
the dust? God gave rules of order, perfect and exact, to His ancient people.
Has His character changed? Is He not the great and mighty God who rules in the
heaven of heavens? Would it not be well for us often to read the directions
given by God Himself to the Hebrews, that we who have the light of the
glorious truth shining upon us may imitate their reverence for the house of
God? We have abundant reason to maintain a fervent, devoted spirit in the
worship of God. We have reason even to be more thoughtful and reverential in
our worship than had the Jews. But an enemy has been at work to destroy our
faith in the sacredness of Christian worship....
"Nearly all need to be taught how to conduct themselves in the house of
God."—Pp. 495, 496.
"Because of the irreverence in attitude, dress, and deportment, and lack
of a worshipful frame of mind, God has often turned His face away from those
assembled for His worship."—P. 499.
"When a church has been raised up and left uninstructed on these points,
the minister has neglected his duty and will have to give an account to God
for the impressions he allowed to prevail."—P. 500.
Those of us who travel about among the churches know that only an occasional
church gives evidence of a full appreciation of these high standards. Even
some of our larger churches have confusion, lack of order, and unnecessary
noise. We hear perfunctory prayers, poorly chosen hymns, inappropriate
announcements, punctuated by audience restlessness and crying babies.
There are both ministers and laymen who are trying to change these conditions.
May God bless them. The remaining three chapters suggest practical means for
achieving our own "liturgical revival" without drifting into
formalism.
CHAPTERS 4 and 5 are entitled "The Form of the
Adventist Worship Service" and "The Content of the Adventist Worship
Service." Theoretically, these two subjects can be discussed separately;
but practically, form and content cannot be entirely separated. For this
reason, considerable overlap will be seen between the two topics.
Before we can discuss profitably the problems relating to the form and content
of the worship service, let us give some attention to the nature of the
service we wish to conduct. What are the objectives of our worship? The three
previous chapters should have alerted us to certain Biblical, historical,
theological, and psychological concepts that will help us to determine the
nature of the worship we desire in our churches.
First, our worship must be in harmony with Biblical patterns. Our study led us
to the conclusion that the worship of the Bible reached its climax in the
worship of the early Christian church. The spontaneity, the spiritual energy,
of the apostolic church is our example. True, that church has left us no
liturgy. This in itself is significant. We are not asked to copy a liturgy but
to emulate a spiritual pattern. This pattern was one of simplicity, of
directness, of Spirit-filled preaching, of lay participation, of free prayer,
of spontaneity. It was not mysterious, formal, ritualistic, priestly, or
highly structured. It was the worship of simple, dedicated people
48
who believed
completely in Christ and who loved to express their adoration to Him.
I believe our ministers should present this Biblical concept of worship to our
churches. How often have we preached on the worship of the Bible? How much do
our people know about what happened when the Christians of Paul's day
assembled for worship? Our people are waiting for us to teach them these
things.
Second, our worship services must be evangelistic. They should be permeated
with a content and atmosphere which will persuade men for Christ. I believe
one of the most important evangelistic opportunities we have is our Sabbath
morning worship service.
I do not mean that we must always speak on a specifically doctrinal topic in
order to make our worship services evangelistic. I do mean that every service
should be so conducted that non-Adventists or non-Christians in the
congregation may feel the persuasive influence of the gospel of Christ. I mean
that our members should never have to phone us to discover if it is safe to
bring their nonAdventist friends and relatives to church the following
Sabbath. It should always be not only safe but desirable to bring every
nonAdventist possible.
Our standard of reverence, our order of service, our sermons, our music, must
be of such a nature that visitors will be impressed, not offended. We must
find ways of carrying on the essential church business so that promotion will
not take the place of worship. We must handle many church problems in the
homes, in the prayer meeting, by correspondence, in order that the worship
service can always reach the hearts of the "stranger within our
gates."
Many of our people are longing to bring their friends and relatives to church.
Physicians would like to bring their patients. But too often they dare not do
so. If we would conduct services and preach sermons which would reach these
visitors, we might in many cases have a constant attendance of non-Adventists,
many of whom would accept our faith. These people who come in through the
front door on Sabbath, who learn to know us and love us, who worship with us
and fellowship with us, will stay with us, once they are brought to a
decision.
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I know this works, because I have tried it. As a pastor of a large city church
I found that nothing added more to the spirit of the Sabbath service than the
presence of visitors who came week after week, and some of whom finally joined
the church. This does not take the place of formal evangelism, but it adds to
the effectiveness of conventional public evangelism. It should never be
necessary to avoid bringing interested people to church until they have made a
decision, lest they become discouraged. Church attendance should help
interested people make a decision.
Preparing for an effort is more than scattering literature throughout a town.
We must develop a worship service that will hold people who might be brought
to the church by the effort. This will often involve some education in
worship.
Third, Adventist worship services must be reverent. The quotations from Testimonies,
Volume 5, indicate that at the time Ellen White wrote much was lacking in this
regard. We must admit that this fault still exists. A lack of a sense of the
presence of God is often obvious. People too often conduct themselves as they
would at a political rally.
Several years ago when I was pastor of the Loma Linda College Church, I was
showing some Baptist relatives about the campus. During the tour we stepped
into Burden Hall, which I explained to them was the auditorium where my church
held its services. Immediately on entering that not-too-stately auditorium
they dropped their voices to a whisper. I was impressed. I had never before
seen that much respect for Burden Hall as a place of worship. But Ellen White
said, "If when the people come into the house of worship, they have
genuine reverence for the Lord and bear in mind that they are in His presence,
there will be a sweet eloquence in silence."—Testimonies, Vol.
5, p. 492.
The story is told of an ancient city that was built over a river, but the
rushing of the water over the riverbed could be heard only at night when the
city was still. God speaks in a still, small voice; and if we hear His voice
during the hour of worship, we are going to have to be silent.
In many of our churches the voice of God is drowned out by
50
crying babies. The
preacher may outshout the children, but God will not. He just won't be heard.
This is a problem to which we must address ourselves. Ellen White says,
"Sometimes a little child may so attract the attention of the hearers
that the precious seed does not fall into good ground and bring forth
fruit."—Ibid., p. 493. This happens every Sabbath in scores of
Adventist churches. How should we meet this problem? Basically, we must so
educate our people regarding worship that they will take the initiative to
find a solution. Then we must make provisions so that the solution will be as
easy as possible. This may involve nurseries, mothers' rooms, and other
facilities.
While we must be kind, Christian, and tactful in dealing with these harassed
young mothers, we must not allow their babies to ruin the services of the
church. Our church services can never be successfully evangelistic as long as
this condition exists. Crying babies may actually be keeping hundreds of
people from worshiping with us and eventually joining the church. It is not
the occasional accidental outburst, quickly quelled, that ruins the church
service. It is rather the prolonged fussing and crying to which the parent has
become so accustomed that he hardly seems to hear. This problem involves not
only the worship of the parents of the child but the rights of other
worshipers who are disturbed by the noise. Common courtesy will respect those
who are trying to worship. Yet we all are aware of how offended some parents
become at even the most tactful suggestion that their children are disturbing
the service. Sometimes the pastor, with Christian kindness, must talk to the
parents about the problem. This is not easy, but it is preferable to ruining
the sacredness of the church service. In the words of Ellen White,
"Unless correct ideas of true worship and true reverence are impressed
upon the people, there will be a growing tendency to place the sacred and
eternal on a level with common things, and those professing the truth will be
an offense to God and a disgrace to religion."—Ibid., p. 500.
We must remember, of course, that reverence involves more than quiet babies.
It involves quietness and order in the way people come and go. It involves
habits of conduct—talking, laughing,
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visiting during the service. It
involves the attitude of the young people. It involves the type of music used.
And, above all, it involves the personality and leadership of the minister. A
reverent minister will tend to make a reverent people; and the converse is
also true.
When the minister walks onto the platform on Sabbath morning, he must
recognize that he is leading his congregation in the worship of God. He must
himself feel the awe and responsibility of the occasion. He must be vibrant
with Christian joy. His prayers, his reading of the Scripture, his sermon, his
dress, his attitude, must convey the fact that he recognizes the presence of
God. And this can be achieved only as the preacher has enjoyed God's
presence in the study where the service was planned and the sermon was
prepared. God does not meet the preacher in the pulpit. He meets him in his
study and accompanies him to the pulpit.
We might name other characteristics that we desire for Adventist worship, but
they are all well summarized in these three: It must be Biblical,
evangelistic, and reverent. We must also remember that these three overlap.
Each one interacts with the others. The Biblical standard avoids the undue
influence of human tradition. The evangelistic emphasis avoids the tendency
toward excessive self-concern. Reverence avoids the ever-present danger of
forgetting the presence of God, which is the basis of all worship.
If we are to achieve these standards, we must give careful scrutiny to each
item in the church service and to its relationship to each other item. It is
impossible to conduct a service without liturgy. The simple act of announcing
a hymn and pronouncing a benediction is liturgy. Our concern is that we avoid
excessive and improper liturgy. By improper liturgy we mean that which is not
an accurate expression of our theology.
How should a service of worship proceed? No one answer can be given. A service
may open with a call to worship, either musical or Scriptural, or a hymn. This
may be preceded by an organ or
Piano prelude or by an appropriate number by the choir. Following the formal
opening, there will usually be, in one order or another, an invocation, two or
more hymns, a Scripture reading, a pastoral
52
prayer, an offering, some type of
music, a sermon, and a benediction. The leader of worship should weld these
rather dissimilar items into a meaningful pattern. This pattern, as experience
has amply proved, may present almost infinite variations. The meaning of
the pattern must be felt by the leader of worship and conveyed by him to the
congregation.
Some leading authorities have suggested that one of the best patterns for
meaningful worship is in the sixth chapter of Isaiah. The young prophet's
experience in the Temple divides itself into four parts. First, he "saw .
. . the Lord." And so, in worship in the house of God, the worshiper must
be made aware of the presence of God. This may be done by properly chosen
hymns, by intelligent, worshipful prayers, by effective reading of the
Scriptures. It may be done by the existence of a tradition of reverence which
will cause the worshiper to exclaim like Jacob, "Surely the Lord is in
this place; and I knew it not." It may be done by the influence and
leadership of a pastor who knows God and who knows how to invite his people
into God's presence. However it is done, it must be accomplished. No
worship will result until the pastor and the people "see the Lord."
"True reverence for God is inspired by a sense of His infinite greatness
and a realization of His presence. With this sense of the Unseen, every heart
should be deeply impressed. The hour and place of prayer are sacred, because
God is there. And as reverence is manifested in attitude and demeanor, the
feeling that inspires it will be deepened."—Prophets and Kings,
pp. 48, 49.
The more spiritually minded our congregations become, the more effectively we
can lead them to realize the presence of God. And the more graphically we can
impress people with a realization of His presence, the more they will develop
in spiritual stature. Suppose the order of service is opened with a Scriptural
call to worship. This may be mere form, and it will be unless the person who
reads it is sensitive to the presence of God. Often I have stood before my
congregation at the beginning of a service and read David's prayer in Psalm
63:
"O God, thou art my God; early will I seek thee: my soul
53
thirsteth for
thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is;
to see thy power and thy glory, so as I have seen thee in the sanctuary.
Because thy lovingkindness is better than life, my lips shall praise thee.
Thus will I bless thee while I live: I will lift up my hands in thy
name." Verses 1-4.
This is a tremendous affirmation of faith in God and worship of Him. Can I say
it in such a way that my people will catch the spirit of it? Can I create an
atmosphere in which the members of my congregation are saying in their hearts,
"Thou art my God," "My soul thirsteth for
thee," "My lips shall praise thee," "I will
lift up my hands in thy name"? A scripture like this—and the Bible
contains hundreds of them—can change a casual audience into a worshiping
congregation if it is read correctly by a minister who knows the God whom
these words are praising.
A great hymn of praise can have the same effect. My favorite hymn is No. 1 in
our hymnal. You have sung this hymn many tunes:
"Before Jehovah's awful throne,
Ye nations bow with sacred joy;
Know that the Lord is God alone;
He can create and He destroy.
"His sovereign power, without our aid,
Made us of clay, and formed us men;
And when like wandering sheep we strayed,
He brought us to His fold again.
"We'll crowd His gates with thankful songs,
High as the heavens our voices raise;
And earth, with her ten thousand tongues,
Shall fill His courts with sounding praise.
"Wide as the world is His command,
Vast as Eternity His love;
Firm as a rock His truth shall stand,
When rolling years shall cease to move."
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If people can be led to sing such hymns thoughtfully, they
will see God as Isaiah did. But if we start the service with a sentimental
ditty set to cheap music, we are not likely to see the Lord sitting upon His
throne, and we will not be prepared to worship.
The second experience of Isaiah, after he saw God, was one of humility.
"Woe is me!" he said, "for I am undone; because I am a man of
unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips: for mine
eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts." Somewhere in the prayers, in
the hymns, in the Scripture reading, in the sermon, every service of worship
should include confession. The formal services of many churches include this
in litanies and formal prayers. This can become meaningless form. But if the
pastor or the elder in his prayer earnestly seeks God's forgiveness for his
sins and those of his congregation, the effect can be genuine and the
experience real.
If a pastor and a congregation can read responsively Psalm 51, and can say
with earnestness, "Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right
spirit within me. Cast me not away from thy presence; and take not thy holy
spirit from me. Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation; and uphold me with
thy free spirit," such a pastor and congregation can be prepared for a
blessing from God. But if, in effect, we are saying to God, "We thank
thee that we are not like this rabble that passes by our church door; we are
keeping the Sabbath; we have brought our tithe; we have a first mortgage on
heaven"—if this is our attitude, we will never know the glories of
worship.
The third part of Isaiah's experience was a manifestation of the grace of God.
In the language of the text, an angel came straight from God's throne and
touched Isaiah's lips with a live coal and said, "Thine iniquity is taken
away, and thy sin purged." It is not the place of the pastor to pronounce
absolution for sin, as did the priests of older days; but it is within the
scope of a service of worship for people to receive from God the assurance of
sins forgiven. People may come to church burdened, frightened, discouraged,
but they should never go away feeling that way. Did you ever go away from a
worship service feeling a foot taller, with new confidence
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and courage, and a
new appreciation of the grace of God? This should not be an exceptional
experience. This is the purpose of worship. The angel with the live coal
should always be there, but he cannot cleanse us until we have become aware of
God's greatness and our need.
Through prayer, hymns, reading of the Scriptures, and sermons, the promise of
cleansing through God's grace must be made so real that the people can receive
anew the experience of sins forgiven. This joy of sins forgiven through God's
grace is the very center of salvation by faith. At this point the saving grace
of God makes itself felt in the individual soul. When is there a more
appropriate time for this transaction to occur than in the hour of worship?
I do not say the worship service is the only place where the Christian can
enjoy this experience of forgiveness and peace. God can work for us anywhere
at any time. I do believe that the hour of worship should be a major avenue of
the activity of the grace of God in behalf of His people. The final paragraph
in Ellen White's chapter on "Behavior in the House of God," from
which we have quoted, begins with these words: "Paul describes the work
of God's ambassadors as that by which every man shall be presented perfect in
Christ Jesus." Surely the service of divine worship is part of this
process. There lips should be touched, iniquity taken away, and sin purged.
This is the objective of Christian worship.
The fourth part of Isaiah's experience was dedication. The Lord said,
"Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" Isaiah replied,
"Here am I; send me." (Verse 8.) Our offerings should be a symbol of
this dedication, but they must involve a much broader experience than merely
the giving of money. The worshiper should go from the place of worship willing
to go where his Lord wants him to go and to do what his Lord wants him to do.
Again, this commitment should result from God's work through song, prayer,
Scripture, and sermon. But if these constituents of worship are purposeless,
if they are mere ritual, carried on with out deep thought and meaning, how can
God work through them to secure dedication on the part of the worshiper? Some
ministers
56
think they must call on their congregations to raise their hands or to stand
at the close of every service to secure decision. This is appropriate at
times, but the implied appeal of a hymn, a Scripture reading, a prayer, or a
sermon often is more effective than the explicit call, especially when the
call has become a part of a ritual.
Von Ogden Vogt, in his Art and Religion, chapter XV, says,
"Something like the great experience of Isaiah is what the worship of the
church ought to help people to have."—P. 150. This is the goal of
Christian worship—the nurture and salvation of souls. It is done by praying,
reading scriptures, singing hymns, offering our gifts, and preaching.
"Here with the tinted rays
Of thy Sabbath morning light, comes peace,
Joy lingers, courage is born, and hope sings.
Freed for a while from the fret and care of daily toil,
In the solemn hush of this holy hour I hear God speak,
Steadied and strengthened by this communion sweet,
With lifted head I leave thy tempted doors
To dare whatever the day may bring to me,
For I who heard shall heed."
—Selected.
If worshipers are to have such experiences, leaders of worship will have to
use a skillful and consecrated touch. One area that concerns the pastor is the
order of the worship service. In what sequence should the various parts of the
service come? Although no final answer to this question can be given, a few
observations may be in order.
Recently I participated in a service of worship in one of our larger churches.
Preceding the service the organist played a meditation. Fortunately this
church has had a long tradition of quiet and order, so the congregation was
settled, attentive, and undistracted before the service began. The choir
entered and sang an appropriate selection as the ministers entered the pulpit.
One of the ministers read a Scriptural call to worship, after which the
congregation sang "Before Jehovah's Awful Throne." This hymn was
57
followed by a brief invocation. Every worshiper was confronted with the
privilege of awareness of the presence of God.
As the subject of the sermon was "Is Perfection Possible?" the
responsive reading was "Christian Perfection," from page 599 of the
hymnal. The scriptures included in this reading were Ephesians 4:1-8, 11-16.
This included the challenge to all believers to "grow up into him in all
things, which is the head, even Christ." It was intended to awaken a
feeling of need and of God's abundant grace to supply that need. The pastoral
prayer followed the reading of the Word of God. Up to this point the
congregation had participated actively in singing a hymn and reading a
responsive reading. Following the prayer, the choir sang an anthem which
heightened the atmosphere of worship. The pastor then made a few appropriate
remarks to the congregation, and the offering was received.
Please note that the offering was not too early in the service. Sometimes this
symbol of dedication comes so soon that we are tempted to feel that the
philosophy is "pay as you enter." The worship service is not a
vending machine into which we drop our money, then wait for a blessing. Giving
is a symbol of the dedication which follows a vision of God and communion with
Him.
After the offering the congregation sang a second hymn, preceding the sermon.
I know this is not often done, but it can be very meaningful. First, it gives
a chance for congregational participation before settling down to listen to
the preacher. Second, a congregational hymn is often a better background for
the sermon than a performance of music or a Scripture reading. For example, on
this Sabbath when the preacher talked on "Perfection" the hymn
immediately preceding the sermon was No. 350 in the hymnal, "We Have Not
Known Thee":
"We have not known Thee as we ought,
Nor learned Thy wisdom, grace, and power;
The things of earth have filled our thought,
And trifles of the passing hour.
Lord, give us light Thy truth to see,
And make us wise in knowing Thee.
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We have not feared Thee as we ought,
Nor bowed beneath Thine awful eye,
Nor guarded deed, and word, and thought,
Remembering that God was nigh.
Lord, give us faith to know Thee near,
And grant the grace of holy fear.
"We have not loved Thee as we ought,
Nor cared that we are loved by Thee;
Thy presence we have coldly sought,
And feebly longed Thy face to see.
Lord, give a pure and loving heart
To feel and own the love Thou art.
"We have not served Thee as we ought;
Alas! the duties left undone,
The work with little fervor wrought,
The battles lost, or scarcely won!
Lord, give the zeal, and give the might,
For Thee to toil, for Thee to fight.
"When shall we know Thee as we ought,
And fear, and love, and serve aright!
When shall we, out of trial brought,
Be perfect in the land of light!
Lord, may we day by day prepare
To see Thy face, and serve Thee there."
This hymn is an eloquent confession. Meaningfully sung, it
is equivalent to Isaiah's statement, "I am a man of unclean lips."
It was especially significant preceding a sermon on "Perfection."
When the last words of the hymn were being sung, the minister walked to the
pulpit so that when the worshipers replaced their hymnals in the racks and
looked up, they saw him there. The sermon was expository, intended to clarify
the Biblical teaching on a subject that is always relevant. The closing hymn
was No. 271, "Not I, but Christ," chosen to reinforce the thought
that our
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perfection and our ultimate salvation are entirely dependent upon
Christ.
This order of worship can be adapted to a small church. There may be a piano
instead of an organ, there may be no choir anthem; but the same hymns can be
sung, the same scriptures read, the same prayers offered, the same sermon
preached. God can be present with just as much reality in a small church as in
a large one. Worshipers may feel the touch of the coal from off the altar in
the simplest country church. The same glow may accompany the worship of God
with a congregation of ten as with a thousand. It is largely up to the leader
of worship—his planning, his personality, his insight, his skill. God will be
there if the preacher will keep out of His way!
In my class in Worship at the seminary, I often write on the board this order
of worship without indicating it source:
|
|
Offertory |
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I ask the class to guess what type of church this order
represents. Some suggest a small country church. Imagine their surprise when
they learn that I copied this order from a bulletin picked up in the New York
Avenue Presbyterian Church in Washington in the summer of 1947 when Peter
Marshall was pastor! The order was simple, but the service was made meaningful
by a great preacher who knew how to conduct a service so that the elements of
worship were there.
The leader of worship is trying to change an audience into a congregation by
challenging them in these various ways with the presence of God. Second, they
try to develop a unity of thought by choosing hymns, Scripture reading,
subject matter for prayer, and musical selections in harmony with the purpose
of the sermon of the day. Third, they give the congregation a chance to
respond to the presence and grace of God by confession and dedication in
responsive readings, appropriate hymns, offerings, and personal decisions.
Just as there are hundreds of ways of building a good house, so there are many
ways of putting together a good worship service. Continuing the analogy,
certain procedures cannot be followed in building a house. The roof cannot be
put on first. The foundation cannot be left until last. The needs of those who
are to live in the house cannot be ignored. The services of worship may be
constructed in many ways, but it must make possible a meeting of man and his
God in an atmosphere of reverent awe, with saving, cleansing, purpose, and an
expectation of rededication and Christian growth.
We have been talking in terms of ideals. Wherein have we failed? In our next
chapter we will discuss each part of worship in detail, but at this point we
can well afford to look at the act of worship as a whole, at its order and
general effect. Wherein has it often been ineffective?
One weakness has been the idea that songs, prayers, Scripture readings, and
offerings are merely preliminaries to a sermonitems to be disposed of quickly
in order that an impatient preacher can get into the pulpit. This viewpoint
has caused us to "omit the third stanza," to omit Scripture
readings, to move along with such dispatch that no impact can possibly be made
on the worshiper. In fact, it probably would not be correct to call him a
worshiper. He is only an auditor, conceding to certain customs which demand a
few preliminaries before he can listen to the preacher.
As a pastor, it was my custom to tailor my service to exactly one hour. At the
stroke of 11:00, I walked alone before the congregation and discussed with
them items of announcement and
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I ask the class to guess what type of church this order
represents. Some suggest a small country church. Imagine their surprise when
they learn that I copied this order from a bulletin picked up in the New York
Avenue Presbyterian Church in Washington in the summer of 1947 when Peter
Marshall was pastor! The order was simple, but the service was made meaningful
by a great preacher who knew how to conduct a service so that the elements of
worship were there.
promotion essential to the church program. This
could be completed usually in about five minutes. Then I left the platform.
Moments later the ministers entered, during an appropriate choir, organ, or
piano number. I used different orders of service in different churches, but I
planned that preaching should begin sometime between 11:25 and 11:30. The
sermon was finished exactly at 11:55, and the congregation was leaving the
sanctuary at the stroke of 12:00.
A well-planned sequence of hymns, prayers, Scripture readings, and the
receiving of an offering can fit into a period of approximately twenty
minutes. The sermon will be better if it is limited to twenty-five or thirty
minutes. Two extremes must be avoided too little time devoted to the parts of
worship other than the sermon, and too much time thus employed.
I recall an experience early in my ministry. I had just moved to a new
district and was preaching at one of the four churches I pastored in addition
to teaching Bible in an academy. The local elder made interminable
announcements, read an article from the Review, offered a long prayer, and
finally surrendered the pulpit to me at 11: 53. He assured me I should take
all the time I wanted. "We have all afternoon," he said. Children
were restless. People were looking at their watches. I spoke for seven
minutes. I remained in that district for six years and had no more problems of
this kind with that church.
I feel almost equally frustrated when the elder hurries through the opening of
the service and gives me the pulpit at 11:15. The people have not been
resolved into a worshiping congregation. I don't want to speak for forty-five
minutes in any church. The entire balance of the service is destroyed.
Another frequent problem is the introduction of inappropriate material. The
congregation sings a hymn, and someone offers the prayer, then the elder
announces the church picnic, plugs for magazine subscriptions, and describes
the plight of the church budget. All of these items have a place and a time,
including the church picnic. The work of the church must not be neglected, but
the machinery of the church must not hum so loudly that it
I ask the class to guess what type of church this order
represents. Some suggest a small country church. Imagine their surprise when
they learn that I copied this order from a bulletin picked up in the New York
Avenue Presbyterian Church in Washington in the summer of 1947 when Peter
Marshall was pastor! The order was simple, but the service was made meaningful
by a great preacher who knew how to conduct a service so that the elements of
worship were there.
62
I ask the class to guess what type of church this order
represents. Some suggest a small country church. Imagine their surprise when
they learn that I copied this order from a bulletin picked up in the New York
Avenue Presbyterian Church in Washington in the summer of 1947 when Peter
Marshall was pastor! The order was simple, but the service was made meaningful
by a great preacher who knew how to conduct a service so that the elements of
worship were there.
drowns out the
voice of God during the hour of worship. This is largely a matter of
procedure. Most church business can be handled during the missionary service,
the announcement period, in the church bulletin, or by letter. And, let it be
remembered, a church that has really worshiped and responded to the call of
God will also work. The best promotion possible to develop an active church is
an effective program of divine worship.
We must learn to build our services with a concern for beauty, for
appropriateness, for purpose. We must test our orders of service by their
results. Are our own people and our visitors being brought into the presence
of God? Christianity Today tells about a visitor who was being shown through a
magnificent cathedral. He asked the embarrassing question, "Is anybody
ever saved here?" This question can be asked of our services of worship.
Is God cleansing hearts during the worship hour? Are decisions being made for
Christ? Are children and young people being tied to the church because they
love what happens in the service of worship? Or do the "worshipers"
come and go like doors on their hinges, propelled by custom.
The answer is largely in our hands. May God give us the grace to make worship
all that He wants it to be.
WE HAVE discussed the worship service as a unit. Now to
take a closer look at its various parts. Although a proper arrangement is
important, it is even more vital that each part be performed with insight and
excellence. Well-chosen Scripture readings, heart-warming prayers,
well-selected hymns, a good sermon, will be helpful in almost any sequence,
although a meaningful sequence will enhance their helpfulness. On the other
hand, the best sequence will be meaningless if the individual parts are not
well selected and performed.
The fourth and fifth chapters of Revelation tell us a great deal about
worship. Through the telescope of prophetic vision John looked into heaven
itself. Let us look over his shoulder as he watches worship in heaven. What
did he see? He saw God sitting upon a throne surrounded by an emerald rainbow.
He saw twentyfour elders sitting about the throne, wearing white robes and
gold crowns. Before the throne was a crystal sea, and about the throne were
four living creatures, indescribable in human language. What was this quartet
of celestial beings doing?
"Day and night they never cease to sing,
`Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty,
who was and is and is to come!"'
Revelation 4:8, R.S.V.
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And what were the twenty-four elders doing?
"And whenever the living creatures give glory and honor and thanks to him
who is seated on the throne, who lives for ever and ever, the twenty-four
elders fall down before him who is seated on the throne and worship him who
lives for ever and ever; they cast their crowns before the throne, singing,
"'Worthy art thou, our Lord and God,
to receive glory and honor and power,
for thou didst create all things,
and by thy will they existed and were created.' "
Verses 9-11, R.S.V.
These elders, "redeemed from among men," joined
in a twentyfour-voice chorus of praise and worship to God.
Then upon the scene came a Lamb—the most often repeated symbol of the Book of
Revelation. The Lamb took the sealed scroll from God's hand "and when he
had taken the scroll, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders
fell down before the Lamb, each holding a harp, and with golden bowls of
incense, which are the prayers of the saints; and they sang a new song,
saying,
" `Worthy art thou to take the scroll and to open its seals,
for thou wast slain and by thy blood didst ransom men for God
from every tribe and tongue and people and nation,
and hast made them a kingdom and priests to our God,
and they shall reign on earth."'
Revelation 5:8-10, R.S.V.
The quartet and the chorus combine and offer their worship to Christ, who
ransoms men for God.
But others wished a part in this worship:
"Then I looked, and I heard around the throne and the living creatures
and the elders the voice of many angels, numbering myriads of myriads and
thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice, `Worthy is the Lamb who was
slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory
and blessing!"' Verses 11, 12, R.S.V.
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Can you imagine the reaction of John as he listened to the angels sing? But
something still greater was in store. The climax was yet to come:
"And I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth
and in the sea, and all therein, saying, `To him who sits upon the throne and
to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might for ever and ever!' And
the four living creatures said, `Amen!' and the elders fell down and
worshiped." Verses 13, 14, R.S.V.
But the best part of this glorious picture of worship in heaven is found in
Revelation 7. Again we see the same God on His throne, the same myriads of
angels, the same twenty-four elders, and the same four living beings. But in
verse 9 a new group is introduced:
"After this I beheld, and lo, a great multitude, which no man could
number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before
the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their
hands."
Who are these? Verse 14 reveals that they are those who "have washed
their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." What are they
doing? They are worshiping God. Verse 10 pictures them as saying,
"Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the
Lamb." It is a tremendous thought that we, along with the elders, the
living beings, the angels, and all the hosts of God's universe may one day
worship God and Christ on that crystal sea. We may be participants in this
great drama. If we expect to worship God in that day, shouldn't we be learning
to worship Him now?
This picture of worship in heaven reveals several of the components of divine
worship as we know it. There was music. All the beings in the universe sang
their praise to God. There was prayer.
The golden incense bowls held the prayers of the saints. There was an
offering. The twenty-four elders cast their crowns before the throne. There
was a sermon and a Scripture reading. The opening of the scroll was a
revelation from God. It was the didactic part of the service. Critics say that
these chapters in Revelation reflected
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contemporary worship practices and
current liturgies. We must remember that this experience of John was a vision
from God, not an expression of human experience.
And now let us turn to materials for worship. The first is the Bible. Revering
the Bible as we do, isn't it strange that we sometimes neglect the Scripture
reading in our worship services? The call to worship, if one is used, can well
be an appropriate selection from the Bible. Would there be anything wrong in
having both a New Testament and an Old Testament selection for the Scripture
reading, as many Protestant churches do? One could be responsive, the other
not.
Instead of saying, "We will now receive the offering," why not quote
one of the many texts on stewardship, like 2 Corinthians 9:7: "Every man
according as he purposeth in his heart, so let him give; not grudgingly, or of
necessity: for God loveth a cheerful giver"? The language of worship can
well be the language of the Bible. We can use the Bible much more extensively
than we have in the past.
And should we not learn how to read the Bible? How often we read the Sacred
Word haltingly and without interpretation. The worship leader should be adept
at oral interpretation of the Bible. The Sunday after VE Day during World War
II, I attended the worship service at a Jewish synagogue in Boston. I was
eager to sense the reaction of the Jews who had such a tremendous emotional
investment in the European conflict. I remember just one thing about the
service. The cantor read with great beauty and skill the ninth Psalm. No
sermon could have expressed more feelingly the Jewish reaction to events in
Europe. I can still hear that cantor as he read:
"When mine enemies are turned back, they shall fall and perish at thy
presence. For thou hast maintained my right and my cause; thou satest in the
throne judging right. . . .
"O thou enemy, destructions are come to a perpetual end: and thou hast
destroyed cities; their memorial is perished with them.... "The Lord also
will be a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble. . . .
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"Have mercy upon me, O Lord; consider my trouble which I suffer of them
that hate me, thou that liftest me up from the gates of death: that I may shew
forth all thy praise in the gates of the daughter of Zion: I will rejoice in
thy salvation. The heathen are sunk down in the pit that they made: in the net
which they hid is their own foot taken. . . .
"Put them in fear, O Lord: that the nations may know themselves to be but
men."
What a Scripture lesson that was! Why cannot we read great scriptures to our
congregations, and read them in such a way that our hearers will become aware
of their greatness and their relevance to modern life?
The second great area of worship is public prayer. The usual prayers in our
services are the invocation, the offertory prayer, the pastoral prayer, and
the benediction. We do not need more prayers, but we do need better prayers.
What is an invocation? It is not another pastoral prayer. It is a prayer in
which God's presence and blessing are invoked on the congregation. It can
become sheer form. With planning and thought, it can be meaningful and
valuable. We can be sure it will not be worthwhile unless we make an effort to
make it so. A study of sample invocations in some standard guide to public
worship can give the leader of worship ideas he can use in his own way.
What has been said about the invocation also applies largely to the offertory
prayer and the benediction. Both can and will degenerate into "vain
repetitions" without thought and planning. If these prayers are worth
praying, they are worth planning. This does not mean they need to be read or
memorized, but the one who prays should have some idea as to what he is going
to say before he opens his mouth.
One of the best books on public prayer is Robert L. Williamson's Effective
Public Prayer, published by the Broadman Press in Nashville in 1960. This book
is worth the attention of any minister. I shall bring you a few quotations which
I hope will whet your appetite for more. In his introductory chapter, Williamson says:
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"Of course, the Spirit of God is not bound. He can draw near to us
whatever the conditions. Despite such handicaps as impossible hymns, wearisome
sermons, interminable prayers, and agonizing choirs, God still can find ways
and means to break through to a long-suffering congregation and commune with
them. But on the other hand, if those who lead in public worship are truly
ready for their office, not only being in tune with God themselves but also
having carefully prepared for each phase of the worship service, how much more
quickly, how much more clearly will the worshiping body catch the sound of the
`still small voice.' "—Pp. 1, 2. Regarding prayer, he says:
"If preaching is of supreme importance because in it the minister seeks
to become the voice of God speaking to the people, we also must say that
public prayer is tremendously important because in it the minister becomes the
voice of his people as they speak to God."—P. 2.
Williamson lists the common faults of public prayer under these headings: (1)
lack of preparation, (2) excessive length, (3) poor delivery, (4) monotonous
reference to the Deity, (5) personal references, (6) preaching disguised as
prayer, (7) private rather than public prayer. Under desirable qualities of
public prayer he lists: (1) corporateness, (2) fervor, (3) reasonable length,
(4) freshness in thought and language, (5) concreteness, (6) progression, (7)
expectancy, (8) dedication of life as the goal. All of these items deserve
more attention.
Regarding the function of pastoral prayer, Williamson says: "What then is
the pastoral prayer? It is a time in which the minister, united with his
congregation, becomes its voice and offers its prayers to God. Not only is
there personal confession but also the confession of the church. Not only is
there thanks to God for his daily blessings but also thanks for his grace
poured out on the church. Not only is each Christian encouraged to surrender
his life to Christ, but the church itself is led to those pathways of service
to which God directs it and sacrifices itself anew to his holy will."
—Pp. 43, 44.
The pastoral prayer, says Williamson, should include
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(1) adoration, (2)
confession, (3) thanksgiving, (4) petition, (5) intercession, (6) dedication.
He observes:
"Some are there burdened with sorrow. Others rejoice in blessings they
have received. Some have lost the sense of the presence of God. Still others
are shamed by sin. The pastoral prayer should be balanced so that it may be a
real prayer experience for each of these people."—P. 63.
Excellent counsel is given on the language of prayer. First, it should be
dignified-spoken in a mood of "reverent restraint." Second, it
should be varied. The same old expressions should not be repeated in the same
old way, week after week. Third, the language of prayer should be clear.
Emphasize the verbs and the nouns rather than the adjectives. Fourth, it
should be stimulating. Many people do not listen during prayer. When Peter
Marshall prayed, "Where we are wrong, make us willing to change, and
where we are right, make us easy to live with," people listened. Warmth
should be generated as the pastor prays. Fifth, the language should be
reverent. "You" should not be substituted for "Thee" and
"Thou" in addressing God. The language of Scripture cannot be
improved upon as the language of prayer.
If these counsels are to be followed, prayers must be prepared. This does not
mean that they are necessarily written and read. Part of this preparation is
in personal devotion. "In order to pray well, it is necessary already to
have prayed." Part of the preparation consists of devotional reading,
part of it in thought and concern regarding the people in whose behalf he will
pray. In some way the preacher should fix in his mind the major points that he
wishes to cover in his prayer. This will ensure that he does not forget that
which is important, and at the same time he is free to add as the Spirit
guides. Preparation should be directive, not restrictive. The prayer should
grow out of life, devotion, and thought. Williamson says:
"Probably the most effective method would be for the minister to pray
extempore following careful preparation. Let him plan the prayer, outline it,
think it through carefully, perhaps write it in full. But at the time of
worship let him lay aside the manuscript
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and, with perhaps only a few notes at
hand, offer the prayer from his heart. It might not go quite so smoothly as if
it were read. He may occasionally hesitate for a word or phrase. But it will
not sound like a recitation or a reading. It will sound like prayer.
"This is not at all to cast aside the careful preparation that has been
made. Through the planning, the meditating, the outlining, the writing that
the minister has done, his own heart is being filled that he might better lead
his people as they pray.
"One should remember that in public prayer when heads are bowed and eyes
closed, the only contact that the minister has with the congregation is
through the ear. He must then endeavor to use his voice to the fullest
advantage. Since the mood is one of deep devotion, the minister will speak
quietly and in a low key. A middle key is acceptable, but if the voice becomes
high and shrill, it can grate terribly upon those who listen. The minister
should not be hesitant and uncertain in his speech, but neither should he be
vehement and dictatorial. Let him remember that he is not giving orders to God
but beseeching God's grace."—Pp. 108, 109.
Williamson's final chapter is an inspiring treatment of the fruits of
effective public prayer. He points out that serious attention to this phase of
a minister's work will, first of all, deepen his own spiritual life. He says,
"If the minister will not take time to prepare his prayers for his
people's sake, he should do so for his own."—P. 136. He also stresses
that good public prayer will enrich the worship service. It will help to avoid
the idea that nothing matters but the sermon. It can strengthen the prayer
life of the people. "Ministers are forever blaming their members for not
praying more than they do. Perhaps at least a part of the difficulty is that
when the members come to church they often do not hear any real praying
there."—P. 138.
"What would happen to our members if every Sunday they heard some
genuine, urgent, expectant praying? If each week they had a heart-searching
experience of the confession of sin, who can say that they would not go home
and spend more time on their knees? If in public prayer each Christian were
led to see anew the fulness of God's grace and to pour out his gratitude to
him, would
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it not be that in time he would be characterized by the grateful
heart so that he would eventually, as Paul says, `in everything give thanks'?
If as the minister draws his people to the throne of grace and voices their
desire to be done with careless and self-indulgent living and in its stead to
have their lives conformed to the image of Christ that they might share in the
purposes of his eternal kingdom, who can say with finality that in time they
would not come to look upon each day as an opportunity for a new dedication
and begin it with the sincere prayer, `Not my will but thine be
done'?"—P. 139.
I cannot add a great deal to these quotations except to urge you again to read
the book. My reaction when I first read it soon after it was published was a
profound dissatisfaction with my public prayers. Here is an area where we
need improvement. This change will come only as a result of determined,
dedicated personal effort. It is something that cannot be voted or legislated.
Only as we, individual ministers of the gospel, improve our public prayers
will this part of the worship be enhanced.
I am sure many of you are thinking, "But ministers don't do the praying
in public. Elders, visitors, and others perform this function." This is
true to too great an extent. It is proper for our elders to offer the pastoral
prayer at times, but not always. The minister should not completely delegate
this function of his ministry. Neither does courtesy demand that a visiting
minister spotted in the audience should be impressed into service to offer the
prayer.
If an elder is to offer the prayer, he should be told several days before
Sabbath. Perhaps some education in public prayer might be worthwhile in some
places for the elders. A copy of Williamson's book might be a valuable
addition to the church library.
Let us remember one thing: The pastoral prayer can be just as important a part
of worship as the sermon. Let us try to make it such.
The next area of concern is one where angels fear to tread—church music. I
approach this subject not as a musician but as a pastor. I am aware that much
conflicting opinion exists in this area. Some hold that only the finest in
church music, as evaluated by
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professional musicians, should ever be used in
the church service. This standard would exclude many of the numbers in our
hymnal and much that is commonly used for preludes, offertories, postludes,
and responses. Others hold that the musical taste of the congregation should
be the deciding factor, that such music should be provided as the majority
will enjoy. This definitely tips the balance in the direction of the gospel
hymn and the more rhythmic, sentimental type of music. What is the pastor to
do, especially if both viewpoints are championed by influential groups in his
church?
I recognize that my suggestions on this subject are not going to please either
group. I am afraid I may be like the Civil War soldier who wore a gray coat
and blue trousers and was shot at from both sides. I am not seeking a
compromise position, but I honestly object both to a steady diet of Bach and a
steady diet of George Beverly Shea. I cannot help but feel that both have
their place.
Jones, in his section on music, lays down three principles which I believe are
worthy of consideration. The first will be sharply challenged by some
musicians: "Music is an adjunct to worship, never an end in
itself."—P. 253. He expands this principle as follows:
"One of its main functions is to produce the moods and stimulate the
emotions conducive to the spirit of worship. If it falls short of doing this,
or if it produces moods and emotions contrary to the spirit of worship, it
fails. If it is detached from the purposes of worship and made a means for the
improvement of the general musical taste of the congregation or for training
musical artists and displaying their abilities, it loses its religious
values."—Ibid.
As an adjunct to worship, some of the best music is represented in the great
worship hymns. In an article in the December Ministry, 1959, Professor
Harold Hannum recommended twelve of these hymns as being of unusual
excellence. They were: "Now thank we all our God" (No. 90); "O
God, our help in ages past" (No. 81) ; "Come, ye thankful people,
come" (No. 496) ; "Jesus, still lead on" (No. 676) ; "All
things bright and beautiful" (No. 421) ; "All glory, laud, and
honor" (No. 15) ; "We gather together to ask
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the Lord's
blessing" (No. 8) ; "Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of
creation" (No. 12); "Rejoice, ye pure in heart" (No. 17) ;
"All praise to Thee, my God, this night" (No. 53) ; "When I
survey the wondrous cross" (No. 118) ; and "Go to dark
Gethsemane" (No. 122). Hymns like these promote the spirit of worship and
should be learned and widely used.
But this raises a serious question. Suppose you are leading a congregation of
unlettered people in an area with a low cultural level. A few of the easier of
these hymns might be learned. Some of them would never strike a response. And
this brings us to Jones's second principle: "Music should be within the
appreciation range of the worshipers."—P. 254. He goes on to say:
"They should be able to understand and comprehend it, musically speaking,
and respond to it spontaneously. It should fit their needs. They should be
able to use it enthusiastically as an expression of their feelings. Otherwise
it is meaningless, worthless, as a vehicle of worship."—Ibid.
It is here that the battle is joined. The purists cannot accept this
viewpoint. They consider it as a compromise with degenerate popular taste. In
1961 the Associated Press circulated an article entitled "Pastor in Plea
to Retain Old Gospel Songs." It read as follows:
"Comes now a voice from the hinterland to protest the moves by church
music specialists to eliminate the old gospel songs from the hymnbooks.
"The process has been going on for some time now, in various
denominations.
"With a commission now working to revise the Methodist hymnbook, the Rev.
Roy Delamotte, a circuit pastor in Kentucky and Tennessee, has unleashed a
plea for preserving the simple gospel numbers.
" `While music may be a matter of principle with the classes, it's a
matter of taste with the masses,' he writes in the current issue of the church
magazine, Christian Advocate.
"Most denominational hymnbooks already have dropped many gospel songs,
such as `The Old Rugged Cross' and `Bringing in
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the Sheaves,' and substituted
more classical hymns, many based on medieval chants and chorales.
"Rev. Mr. Delamotte, a young minister who holds a Ph.D. from Yale,
maintains that while gospel songs may not be musically the best, ordinary
people sing them with relish, and that's better than `a resentful silence.'
"'If a devout Methodist gets a bang out of belting out "In the Sweet
Bye and Bye," I for one shall not insist that he sing instead that good,
old-fashioned hymn of A.D. 1336 "Alla Trinita Beauta," ' he adds.
"He says the hymn preferences of common folk need to be recognized `if we
still have hopes of preventing our once dynamic denomination from being
strangled forever in a white collar.' "
Whatever our personal bias, we must respect this viewpoint. I believe every
minister should try to choose the music of his church in such a way that it
will be definitely above the median of the appreciation range of his
worshipers. He should try with tact and patience to lift this appreciation
range, but he should recognize this cannot be done by getting so far ahead of
the people that communication ceases. He should try to move away from
contentment with the inferior, but without creating the "resentful
silence" which results from too rapid introduction to the unfamiliar. I
believe also that we have many hymns that are both musically acceptable and
"singable." From this category most of our selections should be
made. Jones states this principle well:
"The effort to lift the musical level of hymns is laudable, but if made
an end in itself, it can easily and quickly defeat the purpose of the hymns,
which is to sing the gospel into the lives of the people. It is not necessary
that all the hymns in worship be great hymns, worthy of being handed down from
generation to generation. Much serviceable music dies with the generation that
produced it and found it satisfying."—Pp. 258, 259.
Jones's third principle is that "church music should be the medium for
the development, the expression, and the transmission of the evangelical
faith."—P. 254. Music that is out of harmony with the theology of those
who use it should not be chosen.
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Helmut Thielicke, in his The Trouble With the Church, tells of accompanying
some of his students to a refugee camp to minister to the poorest of the poor.
In the evenings meetings were held with those who were to be "shipped
out" the next day. After a sermon, members of the congregation were asked
to select a hymn. Almost invariably they selected gospel hymns not considered
suitable for church services by professional musicians.
Thielicke states that he was a "bit edgy" at first, thinking that
his students would be suffering "aesthetic torments" as a result of
having to sing these hymns.
"But then they saw how these people were gripped and moved; they began to
see what these hymns could mean to these people in their hard situation. They
even saw tears and they could not bring themselves to dismiss it all as
`sentimentality.' They were also touched by the devotion with which the very
ones whom they knew to be believing Christians sang. And suddenly these young
liturgical aesthetes suffered a change: they began to like these hymns. Not
because their aesthetic judgment about them had suddenly changed! This had not
changed at all. But because they saw that the aesthetic category is
inappropriate here or that this category is not capable of elucidating the
mystery of what was happening here.
"These hymns were suddenly freighted with the faith, hope, and devotion
of those who sang them. Therefore, all at once they were not just sentimental
chaff, but had weight and consequence. It was as if they had been justified by
the faith of those who were edified by them, as if they had received a kind of
`alien righteousness' (and therefore not their own aesthetic
righteousness)."—Pp. 87, 88.
When a minister loses the ability to identify with people whose aesthetic
tastes are inferior to his, when he can no longer enter into their experience
and enjoy the expressions of worship which are meaningful to them, he has lost
one of the characteristics of a pastor. High aesthetic standards are
commendable. I see no reason why a group of ministers at a ministers' meeting
should choose less than the best of hymns; but these same ministers should be
able to enter with understanding and appreciation into the singing of those
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hymns that bring comfort and hope to people who have lived on a different
cultural level.
Much more could be said about music. We may summarize by saying that the same
principles of spontaneity, spiritual warmth, and meaningfulness that govern
Adventist worship as a whole should govern the choice of music for the
Adventist worship. Hymns, anthems, responses, introits, should be appropriate
to the occasion, understandable to the majority of the congregation, and
performed for the glory of God rather than the ego of the performer. Let us
have enough flexibility to take individual differences into consideration and
enough rigidity to avoid that which could be better.
This will require great wisdom and tact on the part of the minister. He can
weaken his worship service by erring in either of two opposite directions.
Only by a knowledge of music, of people, and of the objectives of Adventist
worship can he make the right decisions.
The other component of worship, the sermon, will be discussed in the final
chapter. One more area demands our attention as we consider the effectiveness
of Adventist worship, and that is the Communion service. We will not discuss
in detail its conduct, but a discussion of public worship is not complete
without some attention to the worship aspects of this important service.
At the Communion service worship should reach its highest peak, because here
the symbols of Communion can make the presence of God most real. And yet no
service can degenerate more completely into lifeless formality than the
Communion service.
Adventists celebrate the ordinance of foot washing prior to the Communion
service. This ordinance may be very worshipful if it is understood as the
memorial of Christ's humiliation and a symbol of cleansing. It can be
completely self-defeating if the participants are intent on congratulating
themselves that they are "humble" enough to do something their
Baptist or Methodist brethren would hesitate to do. The worship value of this
service will be influenced by the carefulness with which it is planned, by the
quietness and reverence with which it is performed, by the appropriateness
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of
the instruction given by the pastor, and by the condition of the equipment.
The Communion service, likewise, must be made meaningful by the leader of
worship. If a sermon on this service is desirable, it should be preached the
Sabbath previous. On the day of the service, the sermon can well be limited to
ten minutes, and should deal with one pertinent aspect or implication of the
service. While certain standard scriptures are applicable, why not vary the
scriptures from time to time? The Gospels and the Epistles are full of
scriptures that are appropriate, especially the Epistle to the Hebrews. I once
watched Dr. Harold John Ockenga conduct a Communion service at the Park Street
Congregational Church in Boston. As he distributed the trays and the plates to
the deacons, he quoted appropriate scriptures, one after another. This was
most effective.
One of the problems incident to Communion services is timing. To have it last
an hour and a half or two hours detracts from its effectiveness. With careful
planning everything can be done, with out rushing, in an hour and fifteen
minutes. This will include ten minutes for the sermon and adequate time for
transition. One great help in shortening and enhancing this service is the
installation of Communion cup holders on the backs of the pews. In cases where
the church is seated with opera chairs, a removable aluminum holder can be
purchased. Between services all that appears is a bracket that is nearly flush
with the back of the seat.
Throughout the service, a spirit of joy should prevail. The theme of the
service is salvation through the sacrifice of Christ. It is a memorial of our
deliverance from the power of sin and a re minder of our eternal redemption.
Sometimes we are satisfied merely to do everything correctly. We are careful
in our handling of the bread and the wine. We fold the linen neatly and
distribute the elements with precision, yet the spirit is lacking. We do not
discern "the Lord's body." If we did, we would be radiant.
Like all services of worship, this one must be planned. The leader of worship
should spend long hours meditating, preparing, renewing his own appreciation
of its meaning. With this kind of
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planning, the attendance will grow. The
church will soon need to add to its equipment. And, most important of all, the
church members will be brought into a closer fellowship with Christ and with
one another.
Harold Fey, in his book The Lord's Supper, says:
"Once a church which possessed no paid ministry, no priesthood, no
cathedrals or church buildings, no endowments, no salaried bishops or
secretaries, and no publicity except the lies told by its enemies, held a
disintegrating world together and laid the basis of a new civilization. Its
power was not its own. What it had was a gift. The gift was given it in
meetings of little groups who assembled before dawn in houses on back streets
and in caves under Rome. Those who gathered heard sermons only infrequently,
when men like Paul the sail-maker came their way. But whenever they met they
broke bread with gladness and singleness of heart and shared the cup of their
covenant with Christ. What did that church have that we do not have
today?"—P. 8.
As we come to the end of this discussion of the form and content of worship, I
am reminded of a brief but striking quotation from Testimonies, Volume
9, page 143:
"The evil of formal worship cannot be too strongly depicted, but no words
can properly set forth the deep blessedness of genuine worship."
We must have form, but we do not want formalism. And the form must take on its
significance from the content. When every Scripture reading interprets the
true meaning of the passage, when every prayer is a masterpiece of disciplined
devotion, when every hymn is an expression of a dedicated soul, when every
sermon brings men to the foot of the cross—then worship will fulfill its
purpose. God will be glorified, and His people will be edified.
THE FACT that little has been said about preaching thus far should not be
interpreted to mean that preaching is an unimportant part of worship. I have
purposely reserved my comments on preaching for this last chapter, assuming
that the most important topic deserves the most prominent position.
Charles Reynolds Brown in his excellent volume The Art of Preaching has stated
the case for preaching thus:
"The fate of our Protestant Christianity is in my judgment bound up in
large measure with the rise and fall of effective preaching. If you will read
your church history, reading between the lines as well as along them, you will
find it so. There have been countries where the ministers of worship have been
privileged to use the best to be found on the surface of the earth in the
stately architecture of their church edifices; they have been able to develop
and maintain the most ornate and impressive forms of liturgy ever devised by
the minds of men; they have been privileged to use the highest expressions of
art, having for their altar pieces those paintings which are masterpieces and
for the adornment of the niches in their temples, marble statues so nobly
wrought by the sculptor's hand that they all but spoke; they have been able to
levy tribute upon the best there is in music rendered by wonderful organs and
heavenly choirs for the inspiration of listening congregations. And yet, if
there was lacking in all this the living voice of a living man
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speaking in the name and under the power of the living God, there came a
steady irresistible decline in the religious life of that land...
"And contrarywise, there have been countries where all the appointments
of public worship and the whole quality of the spiritual cultus were as cold
and as bare as the typical New England Meeting House, set on a bleak hill,
painted white, with green shutters and window panes of clear glass cut eight
by ten. Yet in the very face of such aesthetic disadvantage, the religious
life of that land rose into power and splendor and steadfast devotion through
the vitalizing influence of great preaching."—Pp. 19, 20.
My friends, there is no substitute for preaching! In recent decades the
liturgical revival has pushed the preacher to one side in favor of an altar.
The sermon has been shortened while the liturgy was being lengthened. In 1961
an Episcopalian rector, Stephen F. Bayne, Jr., published a book entitled Enter
With Joy. He felt compelled to take his fellow ministers to task for their
neglect of preaching. He said:
"Now I want to say something ... about preaching.... Much of the problem
we face in worship in our time is due to the fact that we concentrate too much
on worship, and not enough on the communication of the Word of God. . . .
"The communication of the Word of God is the heart of all worship; and
any service in which this is not an element is an incomplete
service."—P. 46.
With this sentiment we agree, but we may be surprised that it is necessary to
express it. It reminds us that the sermon is on the defensive. It has lost the
interest of many people who are glad to participate in formal liturgy. If this
were not true, it would not be necessary to write a passionate defense of the
sermon like that found in an editorial of the April 13, 1962, issue of Christianity
Today:
"The sermon is no longer important? Preaching is passé? What
could Jesus have possibly meant when he ordered men to preach, and that he
would be with them in that task, until the `end of the age'? Think of a world
where no sermon had ever been
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preached. History would need to be altered so
much! What if Moses, Amos, Jesus, and Peter had not spoken? Imagine having
Paul, Savonarola, Luther, Wesley, Moody and Graham in a convention and saying
to them, `Preaching is futile; sermons are outmoded!'
"They changed social structures, shattered tyrannies, set the masses free
from slavery and superstition, by preaching. Through the proclamation of the
Word they saw millions of faces light up like a million neon signs, faces once
without a future in them. They witnessed hearts that had been bound to death
rise triumphantly in life as Christ from a tomb. Tell that company that
preaching was to be dropped on the refuse heap, to be replaced with only
candle-burning, bell-ringing, `indirect' instructions, litanies and vespers?
Or with youth centers for recreation, and banquets for the elders? With half a
hundred committees, and unspirited `action' parleys?
" `There was a man sent of God!' says the shining Chronicle. And some
modern ministers will say, `What good is my 20-minute sermon on Sunday
morning? All are bored. Many sleep!' Try telling that to John who came `to
bear witness of the Light.' His was a strange dress, a stranger diet; his was
a Judean boulder for a pulpit, a sky for a tabernacle, a muddy river for a
baptistry. His messages were doubtless more than 20 minutes long. They were
disturbing, and may have even sounded `dogmatic.' But somebody listened;
everybody wasn't bored, and few slept! But John was sent. He wasn't a definer,
he was a proclaimer. He had washed his soul in spiritual tides; through prayer
he had confronted God; he had toughened his spirit through discipline. He
harbored no thought of surrendering his granite pulpit for an 'all-worship'
service. Not even if angels lead the processionals and recessionals! . . . Try
telling him that a proper liturgy is more important than the proclaimed living
Word of the living God!"
We could go on at length refighting this battle, but it is not necessary.
Every one of us is convinced of the importance of preaching as compared with
liturgy. We recognize that the proclaiming of the Word is central in the
worship service. I hope we catch the vision of a balanced service, where
Scripture reading, prayer, music, and preaching blend together in spiritual
worship.
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Only in isolated cases has Adventist preaching been overbalanced by liturgy.
Our worship has tended in the other direction. But I am convinced that we do
have a problem pertaining to our preaching. While we have seldom sacrificed
preaching to liturgy, we have often, I fear, sacrificed it to the fascination
of operating a program. I am concerned about the statements I hear my laymen
friends make about their ministers. How often they say things like this:
"He is a hard worker, a good administrator, a good financier—but he
isn't much of a preacher."
"He is a good visitor, he is kind, he is good with young people— but he
can't preach."
"He is sincere and honest, he gets along well with people, everybody
respects him—but he surely puts us to sleep on Sabbath morning."
"He is a scholar, he has good ideas, he has a good mind—but he doesn't
know how to put it across."
Sometimes preachers seem to take just a little pride in the fact that they can
do many other things better than they can preach. Did they ever stop to think
that every congregation may include laymen who can excel the preacher as
administrators, financiers, public relations men, scholars, and builders? But
there is one place where the preacher ought to be without a peer, and that is
in the pulpit.
I know it is easier to be a man of affairs, perpetually going here and there,
than it is to do the creative work necessary for really good preaching. A
preacher must be adept at all these other phases of his work. But I still
maintain that there is no substitute for preaching.
When a preacher walks into a place of business on Monday morning to call on
one of his parishioners, does this layman recall immediately an inspiring
sermon that this preacher delivered two days before? Or does he remember how
he was bored, or how his intelligence was insulted? A preacher's influence as
he goes about among his members during the week is affected in part by what he
does between eleven and twelve o'clock on Sabbath morning.
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When a preacher sits with his church board and deals with matters of
administration and church management, do his board members respect him because
of his effectiveness in the pulpit? Or do they have to find other reasons to
respect him?
When a preacher participates in the social life of the church, is his image
enhanced by his effectiveness in the pulpit? Or does he have to compensate for
pulpit ineptness by endeavoring to compete
in other areas of activity? Again I insist, there is no substitute for
preaching!
Leslie Weatherhead has said:
"One of the things that helps me on those mornings when I am tempted to
be slack is to think of this: Here am I in this comfortable study, having been
given an allowance which at any rate keeps one free from anxiety and worry,
and given that monetary allowance by people who are getting a far smaller wage
than I get. One toils in a factory, another is in a mill—they are in small
homes and they are all helping me on condition—it is a bargain—that when they
come to Church next Sunday, I, who have been set aside and been allowed to
climb the heights, shall have something to say to them about the
dawn."—Quoted in Bader, The Method and Message of the New Evangelism,
p. 28.
Yes, the preacher must have "something to say . . . about the dawn."
He is more than a church manager, a master of ceremonies—he is a preacher.
Only as he performs this function well can the worship of his people be
complete.
The relationship between the sermon and the service of worship is commented on
by Dobbins in his book The Church at Worship. He says:
"The sermon is not something apart from the preceding worship activities
nor are these activities merely preparatory to the sermon. All the other
elements of worship are now caught up and illuminated in worship. The preacher
as God's prophet, Christ's interpreter, and the Holy Spirit's instrumentality
brings light from the revealed Word for the lives of needy listeners.
`Preaching,' said Philips Brooks, `is [communication of] truth through
personality.' If it is not worshipful, preaching misses its meaning and
purpose.
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Preaching is worshipful when it presents to the congregation the will of God,
the claims of Christ, the meaning of life, and the challenge to life
fulfillment. Sadly, not all preaching is thus God-conscious, Christ-mastered,
life-centered.
"Norman Cousins, editor of the Saturday Review, in an editorial
entitled `Ministerial Corn,' tells of a conversation with a churchgoing
farmer. It was on a Sunday and the talk turned to church-going and to
preachers. The farmer had become interested in why so many of his neighbors
did not attend church, notwithstanding that many of them listed themselves as
church members. `My theory is,' he declared, `that too many ministers can
officiate but not preach. The Sunday sermon in too many cases has become
little more than an endurance feat for those who have to sit through it.' He
had visited most of the churches of the community and had studied the sermons
heard. He had noted the `singsong' effects achieved by some of the ministers,
which left the impression that so much time and effort went into polishing the
soundtrack that there was hardly anything left for the meaning. `You almost
feel as though you were expected to judge the spiritual value of a sermon by
the tonal vibrations.' He observed the repetitious sentences, the awkward
literary construction, the grammatical errors, the trite and outworn arguments—in a word, the `ministerial corn.' The farmer admitted that he found
exceptions but in too many cases he was exposed to `a heavy artillery in
oratory combined with a blank cartridge in ideas.' Obviously such preaching is
not worshipful."—Pp. 65, 66.
When preaching is considered as a part of worship, it takes on a new
dimension. The preacher is doing more than speaking to the people. He is
participating with them in the worship of God. His words are designed to
interpret and illuminate the Word of God. As this process goes on, both
preacher and people feel a growing love and reverence for the Author of the
Word, for Jesus Christ who was Himself the Word made flesh. Worshipful
preaching avoids that which is trifling and inappropriate, for it is aware of
the presence of God. Worshipful preaching must rise higher than a mere
discussion of political or social issues, because the preacher
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is speaking for
God. Worshipful preaching must be Biblical, not in the sense that it will
always be a formal exposition of a passage, but in the sense that it is always
rooted in the Bible and is always seeking to make the Biblical message clear.
Worshipful preaching can never be harsh and vindictive, for such attitudes are
foreign to the spirit of the worship of God.
In short, few visions that we can gain will help us more with our preaching
than a clear understanding that it is the high point in the worship of God.
Jones describes this concept:
"When man comes into spiritual contact with God, that is communion; it is
worship. Preaching is spiritual worship of the highest order because by means
of it God comes directly to the minds and hearts and consciences of men.
Through the preacher he stimulates and challenges all the higher qualities of
the soul. Hence preaching is indispensable to mature worship. It is preaching
that primarily makes worship mature and keeps it so.... For the perpetuation
of evangelical Christianity it is therefore essential that the sermon always
be an organic and central part of the worship service. It keeps worship from
dissipating into mere feeling." Pp. 260, 261.
It is not without significance that the leading homiletics textbook of the
past century, Broadus' On the Preparation and Delivery of Sermons,
includes a final chapter on "Conduct of Public Worship." The author
defends this inclusion as follows:
"The close relation between the sermon, both in its preparation and
delivery, and the entire service of worship makes it highly appropriate that a
treatise on homiletics should end with a consideration of that
service."—P. 357.
Broadus reviews the contrasting viewpoints regarding the importance of
preaching and declares:
"It needs to be said that the sermon itself is an act of worship and
ought to be thought of as an organic part of the service of worship, not
something different or as having a greater or less importance than other
parts."—Ibid.
He quotes with approval Morgan Phelps Noyes' Yale Lectures on this
point:
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" `If the sermon links the worshiper with his Christian heritage in the
Bible and the church, if it keeps constantly in touch with "the timely
and the timeless," if it lays hold on the worshiper so that as he listens
he makes his response not to the preacher but to God whose Word finds the
worshiper through the sermon, then legitimately it may be said that the sermon
is not distinct from the church's act of worship but is a living part of that
worship.' "P. 358.
In the Signs of June 24, 1886, Ellen White made the following
statement:
"Much of the public worship consists of praise and prayer, and every
follower of Christ should engage in this worship. There is also the preaching
service conducted by those whose work it is to instruct the congregation in
the Word of God."
This rather casual observation reminds us again of the balance that must be
maintained in the services of the church. Praise, prayer, and preaching—all
are included. No part of this can be neglected without endangering the
integrity of the service, and every function must be performed well. We have
asked ourselves the question, "Are we doing our best in matters of music,
prayer, and Scripture? Are we organizing our services meaningfully?" With
utmost seriousness, let us ask ourselves the question, "Are we doing our
best in the pulpit?"
A few years ago in a homiletics class, one of my students gave a report on a
nearby church service he had attended. He reported an attractive,
well-arranged church building, a good Sabbath School program, good music, a
well-arranged church service, a friendly pastor with a good personality, and a
horrible sermon! What had happened? Either the pastor had spent all his energy
on form and forgotten content, or he may have been unwilling to pay the price
that the preparation and delivery of a good sermon cost. Or perhaps he should
have been in some profession other than the ministry.
There is a widespread discontent with the quality of Adventist preaching.
Laymen who love and respect their ministers confide that they wish they would
preach better sermons. Men who travel
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from church to church and listen to many
preachers are concerned about the quality of what they hear. What can we as
ministers do to improve this situation?
The suggestions I am about to make are strictly my own. They are not taken
from books, neither have I been prompted to say these things. I speak from a
tremendous concern which has grown steadily since I began my internship more
than thirty years ago. This concern has become more acute since I have been
engaged in the training of young ministers. I believe we can lift Adventist
preaching to a higher level of excellence if we will give attention to the
following matters:
1. We must decide that there is no substitute for preaching. It is true that
the men and the committees who determine our professional destinies are often
less acquainted with our preaching than they are with our promotional ability,
public relations skills, and managerial talent. Our monthly reports do not
indicate the quality of our sermons—only the quantity. We may be successful in
many areas, yet be deficient as preachers; but our success in other areas
should not make us content to be mediocre preachers. The greatest moments of a
preacher's life should come between eleven and twelve o'clock on Sabbath
morning; and that hour should reach its climax as he stands behind the pulpit,
preaching the Word of God.
2. We should be willing to pay the price of becoming good preachers. What is
this price? Long hours of exhausting study, often when we are weary from
meeting the many other demands of our work; long hours of writing, rewriting,
outlining, memorizing, practicing; an unremitting search for relevant sermon
materials while we visit, as we carry on our business affairs, as we read the
secular press, as we listen to the radio and watch television; hours of
creative thought, during which we try to make the Word of God relevant to the
needs of our people; hours of devotion when we seek a personal fellowship with
God that will enable us to interpret Him correctly—this is the cost of being a
good preacher.
Very few public speakers or authors or journalists are expected
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to produce the
output of significant material that the preacher must produce if he is to
really be a preacher. And the preacher must do this under the pressure of many
other duties. Let me add parenthetically that a preacher would soon cease to
produce good sermons if he did not have any other duties. A minister's
visiting and church administration and public contacts keep him in touch with
life, and without this experience his sermons would soon lose their relevance.
If we are to meet God's demands, we must learn how to order our lives so that
we can accomplish with grace and effectiveness all of the duties of a minister
of the gospel, including the preparation and delivery of good sermons.
3. We must discover what really good preaching consists of. Some men are
fluent. They can talk at the drop of a hat. They can assemble a few texts,
illustrations, and quotations, and weave them together into a reasonably
pleasing sermon with very little real effort. Their motto, as one homiletician
has suggested, seems to be, "If they persecute you in one text, flee to
another!" But these sermons, taped and transcribed, would turn out to be
insipid, banal repetitions of clichlis and commonplaces. Granted, some people
may be helped by such sermons. Personality may cover up a multitude of sins.
But discerning people will recognize the vacuity of such presentations. Such
preaching has gone a long way to cause the current trend which would
substitute liturgy for preaching.
Another common type of preaching restricts itself to moralistic themes,
current events, and social problems. These sermons may be interesting and well
done; but they are not true preaching. Really good preaching is the exposition
of the Word of God for the purpose of revealing the gospel of Christ and
bringing men to accept the claims of Christ.
Real preaching is Biblical; it preaches Christ; and it preaches for a
decision. Ellen White said, "Preach so that the people can catch hold of
big ideas and dig out the precious ore hid in the Scriptures."—Manuscript
7, 1894, quoted in Evangelism, p. 169. This type of preaching must be
more than superficial repetition of shopworn ideas. It must reflect a real
acquaintance with the Word of God and with its Author. The great British
rhetorician
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homiletician George Campbell, in his Lectures on Systematic
Theology and Pulpit Eloquence, put the matter well:
"The word of God itself may be, and often is handled unskilfully. Would
the preacher carefully avoid this charge, let him first be sure that he hath
himself a distinct meaning to every thing he advanceth, and next examine,
whether the expression he intends to use be a clear and adequate enunciation
of that meaning. For if it is true, that a speaker is sometimes not
understood, because he doth not express his meaning with sufficient clearness,
it is also true that sometimes he is not understood, because he hath no
meaning to express."—P. 115.
4. We must make our preaching relevant to the needs of our people. As has been
often said, many preachers are answering questions that people aren't asking.
Preachers may become so wrapped up in theological lore that they miss entirely
the needs of the people. They are preaching what interests them rather than
what can reach the people. This may be particularly true of young preachers
fresh from school. They want to try out their brand-new ideas on an
unsuspecting congregation; but their listeners soon turn the dial on to
another channel, and the speaker goes on, blissfully unaware that he is not
being heard. In addition to his theological training, every young preacher
should have a good course in psychology, in sociology, and in persuasion. So
that he will know better how to reach them, he should learn how individuals
and groups behave.
Some evangelists pitch their tents and speak to a society that existed
seventy-five years ago—and they wonder why so few listen. Some pastors wonder
why their young people are indifferent, not realizing that their young people
have no idea what their pastors are talking about. Making our message relevant
does not mean that we change it, or water it down, or emasculate it. It simply
means that we communicate it, that we put our thoughts into forms which can be
grasped by our listeners.
Broadhurst in his biography of Norman Vincent Peale (He Speaks the Word of
God) quotes Dr. Peale as follows:
"'I was imbued with everything that I was hearing in the class-
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room back
at Boston School of Theology and at that particular time we were studying the
atonement. Therefore, I prepared a ponderous, scholarly and intellectual
sermon on the atonement, which I thought I would try out on the country folks
that Sunday.
" `I remember sitting on the front porch on Saturday afternoon, reading
the sermon, from a manuscript, to my father. He sat with his feet perched on
the porch rail, slumped back in the chair listening patiently and politely.
When I had finished the manuscript, I asked him how he liked it.
"'To this day I shall never forget his answer. He said, "Well,
Norman, there are several things I would do with that sermon, if I were you.
First, I would go down in the cellar and put it in the furnace and burn it
up.... Never preach from a manuscript. . . ."
" `Then he added another bit of advice. "The atonement is a great
message, but you don't have to make it so involved. Scholarship isn't the use
of obscure words or a language that is not plain. True scholarship," he
said, "lets you take the greatest principles in the world and make them
so simple that a child can understand them. Did not the greatest teacher of
all, Jesus, do that by the simple illustrations He used?
" ` "So," he told me, "you go out and tell the people that
Jesus Christ died for them; that He died to save them from sin and from
confusion and from fear and from hate. Just tell them in simple everyday
American farm language; words of one, or two, or three syllables; strong,
sturdy, American words, that Jesus Christ can save them from themselves and
give them joy and peace, and make their lives fruitful in the field of
service. Go out and talk to the people about the atoning grace of Jesus Christ
in a language they'll understand. Make it short, make it interesting, and
above all tell them what you personally know. Do not try to give them
theoretical religion. Give them a statement of your personal experience of
Jesus Christ." ' "
I would repeat: we must decide that there is no substitute for preaching; we
must discover what good preaching is; we must be willing to pay the price that
good preaching demands; and we must make our preaching relevant to the needs
of our people. Is this asking too much? This kind of professional competence
is no more than we ask of a physician, a lawyer, or a research worker. And we
must remember that worship will never be what it should be until preaching is
what it should be.
I wish to share with you one of the finest descriptions of a sermon that I have ever read. It was written by a modern homiletician, H. Grady Davis, in his book Design for Preaching:
"A sermon should be like a tree.
"It should be a living organism:
With one sturdy thought like a single stem
With natural limbs reaching up into the light.
"It should have deep roots:
As much unseen as above the surface
Roots spreading as widely as its branches spread
Roots deep underground
In the soil of life's struggle
In the subsoil of the eternal Word.
"It should show nothing but its own unfolding parts:
Branches that thrust out by the force of its inner life
Sentences like leaves native to this very spray
True to the species
Not taken from alien growths
Illustrations like blossoms opening from inside these very twigs
Not brightly colored kites
Pulled from the wind of somebody else's thought
Entangled in these branches.
"It should bear flowers and fruit at the same time like the orange:
Having something for food
For immediate nourishment
Having something for delight
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For present beauty and fragrance
For the joy of hope
For the harvest of a distant day.
"To be all this it must grow in a warm climate:
In loam enriched by death
In love like the all-seeing and all-cherishing sun
In trust like the sleep-sheltering night
In pity like the rain."—Pp. 15, 16.
Now we are coming to the end of our brief quest for deeper insight into
worship. In an effort to focus what we have said about worship, I wish to
summarize an evaluation of worship found in the final chapter of Dobbins'
book, The Church at Worship. He introduces his series of tests of the
validity of the worship service as follows:
"Destiny hangs on the outcomes of worship. Are unbelievers confronted
with Christ and his claims so persuasively that they accept him as Saviour
and Lord? Are lives so remade that they withstand the temptations of the
world, the flesh, the devil? Are families so bound together that they resist
the forces of disorganization? Are young people sent out into the world with
strength of character to make their lives count for Christ? Are men and
women dismissed from the worship services to go into politics, business,
industry, the professions and occupations, having put on the whole armor of
God that they may be able to withstand the evil day, and having done all, to
stand? Can it be truthfully said of those who participate in the services of
worship that they are the salt of the earth, the light of the
world?"—P. 132.
Then Dobbins suggests the principle of readiness. This involves
preparation, order before the beginning of worship, and a spirit of
reverence on the part of the worship leaders and people.
His second principle is unity. By this he refers to a pattern in the
worship service that makes the various parts of the service fit together
with a controlling motif. This involves coherence and concentration.
Third, he invoked the principle of movement. The worship
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service contributes to the performance of the functions of the church. It recognizes the church as an organism, not merely an organization, and it rules out dullness, lethargy, and purposelessness.
Next, Dobbins presents economy. None of the hour of worship should be wasted. The unnecessary and irrelevant should be eliminated. Though unhurried, the service should begin on time and close on time.
The principle of dignity is important. Dignity does not imply "stiffness, formality, unnaturalness, aloofness," but rather, "merit, worth, genuineness."
Another principle is beauty. The relation between "beauty and goodness, ugliness and evil" is made clear. "Ugliness in worship is intuitively repulsive," he says. Beauty does not demand wealth or extravagance, but taste and planning.
And then the author suggests the principle of mystery. God is to be approached with awe. Cheap music, light poetry, political prayers, jocular ministers, violate this principle.
The final test is that of democracy. Do the worshipers feel wanted and included? Have their needs been considered? Does the congregation participate? Does the service indicate respect for persons?
After each of these tests, Dobbins asks the question, "Tested by this
principle, how would a given worship service rate?" These and other
criteria may be applied with profit to our services. If the reader of this
book is a leader of worship, the time to begin applying these tests is not
later than next Sabbath. The words of Jesus to the woman at the well have
not lost their immediacy: "The hour cometh, and now is, when the
true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the
Father seeketh such to worship him." John 4:23.
The Father is seeking worshipers, true worshipers. He has entrusted to us
the privilege of leading in such worship. May God give us grace to
accomplish this mission with continually growing effectiveness.
Bader, Jesse Moren, The Method and Message of the New Evangelism. Round
Table Press.
Bayne, Stephen F., Jr., Enter With Joy. Seabury Press.
Blackwood, Andrew W., The Fine Art of Public Worship. Used by
permission of Abingdon Press.
Broadhurst, Allan R., He Speaks the Word of God. Prentice-Hall, Inc.
Broadus, John A., and Weatherspoon, Jesse B., On the Preparation and
Delivery of Sermons. Harper and Row.
Christianity Today, April 13, 1962. Reprinted by permission.
Davis, H. Grady, Design for Preaching. Fortress Press.
Dobbins, Gaines S., The Church at Worship. Used by permission of
Broadman Press.
Fey, Harold, The Lord's Supper. Harper and Row.
Jones, Ilion T., A Historical Approach to Evangelical Worship.
Copyright, 1954, by Pierce and Washabaugh. Abingdon Press.
Niebuhr, R., and Williams, D., editors, The Ministry in Historical
Perspective. Harper and Row.
Noyes, Morgan Phelps, Preaching the Word of God. Scribner's. Thielicke,
Helmut, The Trouble With the Church. Harper and Row. Tillich, Paul, Dynamics
of Faith. Harper and Row.
Time. Copyright, Time, Inc., 1961.
Toombs, Laurence E., The Old Testament in Christian Preaching. The
Westminster Press. Copyright, 1961, W. L. Jenkins. Used by permission.
Underhill, Evelyn, Worship. Harper and Row.
Williamson, Robert L., Effective Public Prayer. Used by permission of
Broadman Press.
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