My good friend, Doug Jackson, expressed my feelings on worship in a way that is hard to beat. I give it to you here unedited ... enjoy ...
"I attended Divine Liturgy at St. Nicholas Greek Orthodox Church here in Corpus Christi yesterday. Of course, the whole thing was a bit much for a trailor trash Baptist like myself. Huge slabs of ikonography stared across the nave, gilt and jewels flashed from the altar like the glowing coals of Revelation 8, and the priest swept gracefully about in brocaded panoply. I was impressed.
(Note: I intend no theological snobbery. Evangelical sanctuaries tend to be just as ornate. Our elaborate ikons, however, are internal - complex wiring weaving a tapestry of power point and WiFi shooting unseen about the ether like the angels of Mahanaim. Orthodox architecture intends to reproduce the throneroom of heaven. It’s Evangelical nemesis attempts to mimic a multiplex.)
But if I was impressed at this shekinah of praise, the natives knew better. At one point, the script contained a prayer which included the line, ”We also thank You for this liturgy which You are pleased to accept from our hands, even though You are surrounded by thousands of Archangels and tens of thousands of Angels, by the Cherubim and Seraphim, six-winged, many-eyed, soaring with their wings.” The humility of that struck me: acknowledging God’s goodness in turning away from perfect praise to pay attention to proceedings which must seem like pretty small beer to the One who inhabits the center of Isaiah 6.
I heard once that the great R. G. Lee, after a magnificent choir had thundered forth the anthem, lept to the pulpit amidst a cannonade of applause and barked, “When we get to Heaven, that will sound like a bumblebee in a fruit jar!” Such language contains less stained glass than the Orthodox version but says substantially the same thing: God is not impressed.
Yet he is blessed. He is “pleased to accept from our hands” our hymns or praise choruses or sermons or prayers or, for all I know, announcements. We bring clumsy water colors to the heavenly Father who hastens to post them on his refrigerator and point out with pride to the circling angels, “My child gave me that!”
So calm down: our worship at its worst, if given as our best, blesses the heart of Him whom we praise. And come down: our worship at its best, though a technotriumphant tour de force of electronics and eloquence, requires that our Lord put flaming cherubim on hold. The glory of our worship is not how good we are at it, but how good God is to receive it. And he is always good."
All I can say is, "Amen."
blessings,
pastor ellis
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