http://rss.desiringgod.org/link/10732/14839398/why-new-clothes-in-christ

Audio Transcript

What makes a good musical worship experience? That’s today’s question from a listener to the podcast by the name of Jeff. “Hello, Pastor John. I know many Christians speak of a good worship experience as one associated with an emotional response. And I have several relatives that will say, ‘A good worship experience is tied to the quality of the music, how well the musicians sing and performed on stage.’ And they will defend popular Christian worship bands who hold to a theology that’s a little bit weak, but defend the songs because of the personal emotional high that they cause. As a result, my relatives will say things like, ‘The worship experience was very powerful.’ We even know of a local church that doesn’t allow children in the singing portion because it distracts from the worship experience. So my question for you, Pastor John, is this: What makes for a good musical worship experience?” I put that question to Pastor John in Nashville. Here he is.

Well, not taking the kids out. Noël and I wrote an article in our first year or two at Bethlehem making the case that we will not have a children’s church, but the children will be in worship services after about age 3. And my argument was this: Where else will a 3-year-old, 4-year-old, 5-year-old, 6-year-old, 7-year-old boy, say, learn what the heart of a mature man toward God is if he doesn’t see his dad sing, if he doesn’t see his dad pray, if he doesn’t see his dad bow down in holy reverence? There’s so much more going on in a good experience of worship.

Worshiping with Head and Heart

The other thing that came to my mind when I heard that question was that the word experience is viewed negatively because it’s got connotations of empty emotionalism. “That was just an experience.” But the word experience in English is necessary. I mean, it’s a good word. Worship is an experience — it is. And it needs to be fleshed out as to what kind of experience it is. And what makes it good is that there is truth, and there is a response to that truth in understanding; and there is worth and beauty and greatness, and there is a response to that in affections.

Now, that little summary came from a sentence by Jonathan Edwards. Jonathan Edwards says, “God glorifies himself in the world in two ways. He glorifies himself by his glory being seen [meaning known, understood] and his glory being delighted in. He who sees God’s glory does not glorify him so much as he who also delights in that glory.” Now, when I read that sentence, I thought, He’s so absolutely right.

You heard me say yesterday, “God will not be half-glorified,” meaning that he doesn’t want a doctrinally straight church with zero experience of affections, and he doesn’t want a church with all over-the-top emotions and affections and almost no rich understanding of the nature of God and what he’s done in the world.

So, what I’m looking for in a good experience of worship is this: Is there richness of truth here — truth in the welcome, truth in the prayers, truth in the preaching, truth in the singing? Are the lyrics of the songs permeated with the biblical truth that is loved in this church? And do these people give some evidence that it makes the difference — like it touches anybody? Does anybody feel anything here? Because if this church is totally blank — I mean, if it is emotionless — I’m thinking, “God is not prized here. God is not valued here. God is not cherished here. God is not enjoyed here.” That’s just not worship. I don’t care how true the doctrine is or how straight the preaching is. So those are massively crucial things, I think, for worship to be a good experience.

“The congregation is the worshiping body, with the help of people who are musicians or leaders from the front.”

Now all of that, I think, presumes (or maybe I shouldn’t presume it) that the chief actors in worship are the congregation. This conference is all about how you lead in order to make that happen. But it’s the congregation singing or praying or confessing or reciting. The congregation is the worshiping body, with the help of people who are musicians or leaders from the front. That implies the question, What would that leadership be like? What would the good leadership be to make that happen, so that the people are singing, the people are praying, the people are reciting, the people are confessing authentically from the heart?

Undistracting Excellence

In answer to that question, I wrote down that undistracting excellence is needed from the leaders. Undistracting means you don’t get in the way. It can’t be shoddy, because that’s going to distract. If you make mistakes, people are going to be jarred and won’t be able to keep focusing. It’s not ostentatious. That means you’re too good and you’re showing off on the piano or whatever instrument you’re playing. It’s not entertaining. Leaders are not calling attention to themselves.

The tension in this conference is significant, isn’t it? This is a largely performance-oriented conference, even though you’re singing a lot. These are remarkable things going on up here on stage, and they could easily intimidate a lot of pastors that can’t do anything like that. And I know Keith and Kristyn don’t want that to happen to any pastor in the room. They want a thirty-person church with lay leadership and no education in music to be powerful in connecting with God on Sunday morning, which is very possible. So, leaders are not calling attention to themselves.

Singable, Truth-Filled Music

And then maybe lastly, I wrote down two things that I think you’d look for in the music for a good experience.

One, it’s singable. It’s singable by men. Men. I was just talking with a remarkable music theoretician back there over lunch, and he was talking about the changes of the last thirty years. And one of the changes, he said, is that the register has gone up. I think too often in our service at home, “Look at people — the men just dropped out. Did anybody notice no men are singing right now?” Or, “They shifted to a lower octave, and it sounds weird. What just happened?” The scope of singability matters, and I think it’s crucial that the men sing. It’s almost a given that women sing. Women seem to have an easier ability to get all over the range on these things. Men, we’re not so good at that. We need a lot of help to sing. And when the men are singing, oh my goodness, that really helps the women, helps the children, helps everybody view this God better.

“Lyrics that are God-centered, Christ-exalting, Bible-saturated, gospel-rich are essential.”

Two, I think emotionally suitable, truth-carried lyrics — lyrics that are seriously joyful, lyrics that are God-centered, Christ-exalting, Bible-saturated, gospel-rich — are essential.

And then I have to say one more thing, Tony, because this is what I write about. This is what I did for 33 years. Don’t ever say, “We worship for thirty minutes, and then we preach.” I’ll get my back up if you say that. I’m a preacher, and I worship. Preaching is worship. It ought to be.

I call it expository exultation because it’s not just music that should have truth components and affectional components. Preaching should have truth components and affectional components. So, expository: I really am explaining the Bible, drawing meaning out of the Bible that’s really there. And exultation: I’m really thrilled about it. Can anybody tell? That’s what I want. That’s what preaching is. It helps people see the truth and then be caught up with the preacher in his love affair with that God and that salvation. So, I think a good experience, a good worship experience, will have at least all of that.

When you live in constant pain, or struggle with chronic illness, discouragement is just part of daily life.

The simplest tasks can be exhausting. You consistently worry that you’re becoming a burden. Pain often leads to intermittent sleep, so you rarely feel rested. It’s hard to stay upbeat and cheerful. Since chronic conditions persist for a long time, or are constantly recurring, you depend on friends to encourage and support you — and then to keep encouraging and supporting you over extended periods of time.

I’ve lived with post-polio syndrome for nearly twenty years now, and I’ve also tried to care for others with chronic health issues for decades, so I’ve learned from both sides what’s helpful, sustainable, and frequently overlooked. It’s a long and difficult road for everyone involved, and each situation is unique, but here are some lessons about what to do, what to say, and how to pray for our friends who are hurting.

1. Keep checking in, even when others have stopped.

In my experience, one of the most helpful ways to serve our hurting friends is to check in regularly to see how they’re doing.

People with chronic pain and illness often feel alone and forgotten, especially if their condition leaves them homebound. Friends may rush to help when symptoms first start, but with pressing issues in their own lives, many stop staying in touch. They assume others are still visiting and offering support, but few people stay engaged months afterward, even as needs persist and increase. The paralyzed man in Bethesda had no one to help him into the pool, perhaps because, after 38 years of disability, people had stopped showing up (John 5:2–7).

If you’re going to visit, consider offering concrete help at the same time — anything from stopping by the grocery store to running errands to bringing a meal. As James reminds us, it’s easy to say, “‘Go in peace, be warmed and filled,’ without giving them the things needed for the body” (James 2:16).

Even if you stay only for thirty minutes, you could offer to load the dishwasher, straighten up the kitchen, or give a back massage while you talk. Or you could ask if there’s anything else you can help with or projects you can come back to work on. People usually won’t initiate the conversation about their own needs, but they may respond well to specific questions. However you try to help, always ask first, because what is a welcome blessing for some might feel intrusive to others.

2. Be quick to listen and slow to speak.

While we all want to say something profound and comforting, sometimes listening is the most comforting gift we can give.

Friends with chronic illness may not mention their latest symptoms or struggles for fear of sounding like chronic complainers, but they may welcome the opportunity to share what’s going on. Strive to listen without immediately passing judgment. Resist offering them a “cure” for their sorrow. And don’t pry if they’d rather not talk more about it now. Instead of asking the general question, “How are you doing?” you might ask instead, “How are you doing today?” which is more personal and easier to answer.

Remembering what not to say is often more important than remembering what to say. I say that as someone who has too often said too much. Don’t minimize what they’re going through. Don’t compare their suffering to others who are doing it “better.” Avoid sentences that start with “At least . . .” Don’t throw out platitudes like, “Count your blessings.” Don’t tell them that you know their condition will improve or that they will be healed, because no one knows what the future holds. Again, I give these examples as someone who regrets having said them all before.

“Remembering what not to say is often more important than remembering what to say.”

Faithful friends weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15). They acknowledge how difficult their situation is. They let their sick friends vent for a time, and then encourage them to put their hope in the Lord Jesus. They assure them that God will never leave them, and reassure them that their suffering will not be wasted. They remind them of the glory that awaits in heaven, where there will be no more pain or tears.

Many of us in this generation have heard cautions not to use Scripture like a baseball bat, as if we could bludgeon suffering people into feeling better, but don’t be afraid to share God’s word altogether. Since God’s word gives true comfort, by all means, bring verses to share, but do so patiently and with care. Choose the verses that have been meaningful to you in your trials, and explain why. For example, I have found hope in passages like these:

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid. (John 14:27)

We do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:16–18)

This I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. (Lamentations 3:21–23)

3. Take the most caring, most effective action: pray.

Pray consistently for your friends with chronic illness. They need prayer not only for their physical needs — including strength, healing, and reprieve from pain — but also for their emotional and spiritual needs. With chronic struggles, it’s common to feel discouraged, disillusioned, and depressed as days go by without improvement. While we can’t change their situation or outlook ourselves, God loves to work through our prayers.

When friends share their prayer requests, pray with them right away, if possible. Not only does it reinforce your genuine care, but it also ensures that you really do pray. It’s easy to stop earnestly praying for people with long-term conditions, but our prayers have great power (James 5:16), so don’t give up. Remind people that they aren’t forgotten by occasionally texting them what you’re praying for them.

“Be especially quick to listen and slow to speak when your friends are hurting.”

You might offer to pray with them through a psalm of lament like Psalm 13, 43, or 142. Lamenting together is a beautiful way to acknowledge what’s hard and to cry out to God with them, while entrusting their situation to him. Read a few verses at a time, followed by spontaneous words of request or trust. If your friend would prefer just to listen, try inserting their name into a psalm like Psalm 23, 46, or 139 as you pray it aloud.

Now Is Not Too Late

Ministering to people with chronic pain or illness can leave us exhausted if we believe it’s all up to us. Or, if we’ve made mistakes in the past and ended up hurting someone we wanted to help, we may wonder if our efforts are worth it. But caring for our wounded friends is not all up to us, and our imperfect efforts really are worth it. God will give us fresh strength and wisdom as we wait for him and serve by the power he supplies (Isaiah 40:31; 1 Peter 4:11).

If you’ve grown weary and stopped checking in, don’t let guilt keep you away. Instead, go ahead and reach out now, because it’s never too late. We cannot fix our friends’ problems, but we can keep showing up, meeting their physical needs, listening to their struggles, encouraging them in Christ, and bringing them before the only One big enough to heal, sustain, and deliver them.