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Your Greatest Moment of Worship

If I asked you when your greatest moment of worship took place, what would your mind run to? Would you think of a particularly powerful moment in a song service when you felt your soul flooded with love for God? That wouldn’t be surprising, since “worship” in the western church is nearly synonymous with music. This is an unfortunate development, and I want to suggest that your greatest moment of worship did not happen while the lights were dimmed and the chords of modern Christianity were being stroked. I might even go farther and suggest that your greatest moment of worship had no concurrent emotional ecstasy. It might have felt downright horrible.

I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service (spiritual worship).  And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.

Romans 12:1-2

What is worship? Romans 12 tells us that it is sacrifice. Not the sacrifice of a dead animal, because that was all done away with when Christ came. It is a living sacrifice. It is your sacrifice. Worship is the sacrifice of something dear and precious to you for the sake and for the love of Christ. On a regular basis, it is the daily habit of dying to self and living for God. But on occasion, the offering springs from some deep desire or ambition that drives and motivates you at your core, and the giving up of that thing is like Abraham’s offering of Isaac: it is nearly unthinkable.

When you offer that dream, or that ambition, or that choice, up to God, you are slaying any rival to God that lives in your heart. You are declaring that you do not serve God so that He can enable your deepest desires, but you are serving God because He is worthy. Worthy, from the same root as worth-ship.

Often times this turning away from self comes not only at great personal cost, but at the consternation of those around you. Even those who genuinely love you will probably misunderstand what you are doing. You won’t be surrounded by a myriad of other Christ-followers lifting their voices and hands in praise; you will be alone. It’s possible a close friend or a spouse or a pastor who understands the nature of worship will get it. But the majority won’t. They will not applaud. And God has done this on purpose, so that you will not do it for their applause, but for His.

Your greatest moment of worship came when you turned away from your own feelings, desires, and dreams and made a choice to live for God in a very specific way. You sacrificed personal fulfillment in favor of being pleasing to God. Maybe you told the truth and it cost you your career. Maybe you led your family and your wife left you for the world. Maybe you gave up a blossoming ministry to become and anonymous missionary. It could be something that if told in a story would be utterly banal, but in your soul it was as dramatic as Elijah’s battle with the false god on Carmel. And when you did that, you might not have felt the glory roll through your soul. But glorious it was to your God. These are the great worship moments in the life of the believer.

I am not discouraging you from attending the gathering of your local church this morning and lifting your voice in praise to our great God and Savior. That is good and right and He is worthy. But if your life is not a living sacrifice, stirred up feelings on Sunday morning don’t mean much to God. He is looking for those who worship Him in Spirit and in Truth, not in feelings. He wants your life on the altar. He wants your living sacrifice.

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What Every Pastor Should Want for Himself

About seven years ago I started a new job in the lighting industry: I went to work for a rep firm. Until that point I had worked in a showroom and then as a sales manager at a local lighting distributor, so I had a background in the field. I was actually on my way out of the lighting world when a friend offered me an opportunity that looked really good, so I took it.

As I made the rounds and began to meet the various clients/customers that I would be working with, I was introduced as a bi-vocational pastor. Which was quite all right with me, as I prefer flying my flags out front.  We were making introductions at the largest local “independent” and had sat down for a few minutes with the GM. Upon hearing that I was a pastor as well, he said, “Man, I really worry about your soul. Lighting is the dirtiest part of this industry. I don’t know if you can be successful without selling your soul.”

His comment set me on my heels a little bit. I had to stop and consider what I was getting into. I am still grateful for this little dialogue because it forced me to count the cost up front. I determined that I would not lose my soul in the back-alley gutters of architectural lighting. From that point on, when we would periodically encounter each other, I would ask, “Hey JC, how’s my soul looking?” And he always responded something like, “From what I hear it’s still intact.”

There are thousands of Christians like me, working in industries rife with gossip, lies, backbiting, and a lot of other crud. We know that there may come an occasion when we have to give up a job for the sake of our soul and throw ourselves and our livelihoods upon the mercy of God to provide. We put our armor on every morning because we know what we are walking into. Since Jesus is the One who warns against gaining the world at the cost of the soul, we can confidently state that keeping one’s soul intact is a noble aspiration.

The knowledge of the danger the Christian laborer faces is actually a defense against that danger. And it is a knowledge that the pastor sometimes forgets. The secular laborer knows that he is about to step into a building where profanity laced tirades and underhanded deals may be par for the course. But the pastor is walking into a church building, for crying out loud. The secular worker knows that he might be tempted to dissemble, laugh at vulgar jokes in order to fit in, butter up the boss, get drunk with the boys, or compromise in a thousand little ways. But does the pastor remember that he is going to be tempted to minimize truth in order to win friends, cut deals in order to “grow ministry”, or make unreasonable promises to keep discontent members from leaving?

Most of our congregation comes to church looking for refuge in a tumultuous world. But for the pastor, the church may be the eye of the storm. For the congregation, church is a place characterized by joy. But for the pastor, it may be a place of personal pain. For the congregation, the world is the place where they are tempted to sin. For the pastor, the church is the place where he is tempted to sin.

So I want to urge every pastor to make it a top priority to not lose your soul in the midst of this thing called ministry. Don’t lose your soul to bitterness. Don’t lose your soul to discouragement. Don’t lose your soul to selfishness. The secular employee knows that he may lose promotions, accolades, and even a salary for the sake of his soul. Pastor, are you willing to be “less successful” (whatever that means) in ministry in order to keep your soul intact?

In the secular world, keeping your soul intact tends to revolve around integrity and character. While those criteria also hold true for the pastor, I think we might add joy. In the ministry, joy is an indication that our souls are whole. That we have not allowed them to become fractured by the pain of a “failed” ministry, the grief of those who leave, the resentment against those who withstand our efforts, or even the envy of those whose ministry seems more fruitful.

The apostle Paul sets before us a beautiful picture of ministry contentment. If anyone had been bruised and battered by ministry, he had. Besides the whippings and shipwrecks and imprisonments, besides the conflict in and among the churches, besides the exhaustion of overseeing the various ministries, he had also been left to finish his course alone. And even so, he kept his soul:

And I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who hath enabled me, for that he counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry.

1 Timothy 1:12-13