Sermon Series

My friend Mark is a pastor, and on Sunday mornings, he can be found in his sanctuary dancing in the aisle with his daughters, or leading the worship band, and preaching God’s word with passion and delight. The rest of the week you might find Mark in his garden, studying in his office, riding his mountain bike, meeting with friends, or home with his family. Whatever or wherever he is, however, he’s probably doing it with a God-inspired enthusiasm, passion and delight

Mark gets discouraged. He feels the sting of criticism. His bones ache with fatigue, and he gets frustrated with his weaknesses and insecurities. But he isn’t defined by those things. Mark is a worshipper of Jesus Christ, meaning he lives life in a constant state of awareness of God’s mercy and character.

Mark came to know Jesus after traveling a painfully long and winding road. His mom got caught up in Eastern mysticism, and transcendental meditation, and became, as he puts it, “kookier and kookier all the time”. So Mark left home, moved in with his girlfriend and tried to cope with a terribly dark relationship. Meanwhile, his mom and his brother had encountered Jesus through a local Christian congregation. It was what Mark’s mom had been searching for all her life. And she became a Christian along with Mark’s brother.

One Christmas, Mark received a Bible from his brother as a gift. Over time he began to read it with enthusiasm. Mark says, “I had always thought of Jesus as a first century Palestinian Tiny Tim spreading sweetness and love around the countryside.”

But as he came to the gospels he was convicted that Jesus was someone he’d have to deal with—either rejecting him or accepting him—because he was more than what he’d imagined.

So as Mark encountered the scriptures, and learned about Jesus, he came to the place where he bowed and acknowledged Jesus as savior. He was baptized almost immediately, and began working in ministry.

Describing his salvation, Mark says that he was one of a long line of dark generations in his family, and when he began to take God’s word seriously, it impacted him and he was “completely rescued”. He says, “Why would I fear man, and worry about what others think of me when the God of the Universe rescued me? Why would I honor anyone or anything above Him?” He told me once, “What God did for me was undeserved, a gift of utter grace and mercy. I’ve never recovered from the thrill!”

That is perhaps the best definition of worship I’ve ever come across. God saved me and I’ve never recovered from the thrill. Or put another way, worship is a life of giving thanks to God for his gift of mercy. Mark, and people like him, people I describe as worshippers, aren’t defined by insecurities, worries, weaknesses, and the hopelessness of the world. (They encounter those things and feel them, but they don’t lose hope over them.) They are defined by the thrill of God’s mercy.

“Worshipper” is what the Bible says all of God’s people are to be. Turn with me to the book of Romans, chapter 12, starting at verse 1.

“Romans” is a letter written by Paul to the Christians in Rome . It is perhaps some of the thickest theology in the whole Bible, and deals with the fundamentals of the Christian faith. For eleven chapters, Paul describes in great detail, what Jesus means, what his life and death and resurrection means to anyone who calls him savior. He describes, essentially, God’s mercy in and through Jesus.

Then, when he comes to Romans 12, Paul says this: “Therefore, I urge you, brothers (and sisters), in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind…” (Romans 12:1-2a, parenthesis added).

In other words, Paul’s saying, “Since Jesus rescued you from the darkness of this world, the hopelessness of life separate from him, live to worship, and live in constant awareness of his grace and mercy, never forgetting the thrill of God’s salvation. Don’t be defined any longer by the way of this world, be transformed by God to know him in the midst of it, and be defined by Him.”

Now, does Paul say, “worship leaders and pastors, and super-Christians” live this life of worship? No. Paul’s call is to all Christians—brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, offer your whole selves to him in a life of worship.

For the next several weeks we will learn what it means to live as worshippers. I’ve titled this series, “In View of His Mercy—On Being Worshippers.” Romans 12 calls us to a whole life of worship—spiritually, physically, individually and corporately. During this series, we are going to explore a life of worship, and in doing so, we will talk about how we worship God in the context of the local church.

For the next couple of weeks, we’re going to look at what it means to live a life of worship. Then, we’ll zero in on what it means to worship as a people together in a corporate way—like Sunday morning. We’ll look at how we worship together, what sort of things we should be striving toward in corporate worship—things like music, sanctuary design and decoration, and prayer. But first we need to understand what it means to be a worshipper.

Do you know what Jesus’ ultimate purpose is? It isn’t evangelism. It isn’t the health and growth of the church. It isn’t even the forgiveness of sin. These are all means to His ultimate purpose. His ultimate purpose is “that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord” (Phil. 2:10 -11). Jesus’ ultimate purpose is worship! That through worship, people will come to know who He is, that through worship people will confess their sins and be forgiven, that through worship the church will grow to be the shining light in the world.

At the name of Jesus, every knee will bow and every tongue confess that He is LORD—supreme, infinite, center of all.

There’s a great and bizarre story in the bible that illustrates this. This is a story with a “darkly textured backdrop; death looming over there, barrenness skulking over here. It begins when (King) David wants to make the ark of (God’s) covenant a symbol of his royal authority. David, after seven years of civil war has finally been crowned king of the whole land. Now he’s got some breathing room and time to turn his attention to other things: civic development, cultural initiative, scientific inquiry, political fence-mending, and worship.

David knows where he stands. He is a great and mighty king, yes. But he is acutely aware that God is his power and strength. God alone is to be given credit, and praise. The ark coming to Jerusalem is not primarily a political gesture. It is primarily worship. By this, David makes a powerful statement: God is king of this kingdom, lord of this land. The king acknowledges the King above him, to whom he owes everything. For whom he dances.

So David brings the ark to Jerusalem , and as it comes, David dances. It is a grand outburst, a display of pure joy and adoration. Offer your body as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, for this is your spiritual act of worship. David does. David dances.

But on the way, tragedy strikes. The ox stumble, unsettling the ark. One of David’s right hand men, a guy named Uzzah—a priest in the procession—does the logical thing given the circumstance: he reaches out to steady the ark. For his effort, God strikes him dead on the spot.

If you’re like me, you’re troubled by this when you first hear it. What was Uzzah doing wrong? He was just making sure things stayed ordered, that the ark didn’t hit the ground. Why would God kill him? I bet that throughout the whole trip, the ox cart bumped and shifted and the ark looked unstable.

I imagine Uzzah—oblivious to the dancing and singing going on around him—fretted every step of the way: “What if the ark falls, won’t that be an embarrassment? Oh if only the king paid more attention to what I’m going through back here instead of being so caught up in his singing and dancing…” Uzzah had forgotten the one critical thing: this was an act of worship.

As a pastor, I sympathize with Uzzah. I’m largely responsible for things going according to plan during worship. It’s hard to lose myself in the presence of God when I’m the one appointed not to lose my head. Somebody’s got to make sure things run smoothly, what if nobody shares during community prayer?, what if the sermon goes long?, what if the microphones don’t work?, what if the ox stumbles and the ark gets tossed around? Who’s going to steady it? Who’s going to protect God? Somebody’s got to pay attention around here. Not everyone can get lost in worship...dead.

At great personal cost to himself, Uzzah teaches us something valuable about God. He isn’t safe. He’s not God-in-a-box kept on a shelf for safe-keeping. Our role here on earth—pastor, teacher, housewife, or welder—is not to protect God almighty from mishap or embarrassment. God takes care of himself.

It’s a fearful thing to fall into the hands of God, the writer of Hebrews said. But there is something more fearful: to not fall into his hands. Perhaps the most fearful thing of all, however, is the sin of Uzzah: to think that our job, should God stumble, is to ensure he falls into our hands.

God cannot be contained or controlled! He hung the stars, parted the seas, and created humankind. We’d be better off surrendering to his majesty, running into his brusque, burley embrace than fretting over how God will look.

I wonder if Uzzah forgot God’s mercy. I wonder if he’d become so routine, bureaucratic, and ordered that the mercy of God’s salvation had slipped so far into the mists of time, that routine, order and safety had replaced the wild, wonderful adventure that is this God. Uzzah, I think had stopped worshipping because his view of God’s mercy had become obscured.

This time, a messy argument erupts in David’s house afterward. Michal, his wife, decided to stay home today. Maybe she’s got the flu, or a headache, or—and the text hints at this—she wants to make a statement. Michal commits the principal act of those who disapprove: she merely watches, distant and judging. “Michal daughter of Saul watched from the window. And when she saw the king leaping and dancing before the LORD, she despised him in her heart” (2 Sam. 6:16 ).

David, not knowing this yet, comes home exhilarated. He’s exultant, radiant extravagant in generosity. He returns home after the ark had finally been brought home to Jerusalem , to “bless his household.” But he barely gets in the door before Michal is on him, cold with contempt and hot with scorn: “How the king of

Israel

has distinguished himself today, disrobing in the sight of the slave girls as any vulgar fellow would.”

Michal seems to believe that the chief end of humanity is to uphold its own reputation and guard it forever. Religion is fine, it helps the people follow the rules, as long as it doesn’t lead to antics and gibberish and other unrestrained emotional displays. Worship, on the other hand, is a dicey thing. Worship pushes beyond decorum and the dignity of the congregation, says Michal. The king should be more reserved, toned down, restrained, more king-like.

But, friends, there’s something about worship that causes even a king to strip down and leap up.

Michal is one of those people who think it’s better to play it safe, never jump off the deep end. Don’t get in the water at all—stay on the edge where it’s dry and safe. Better yet, stay home and watch from the window.

I identify with Michal. How is a pastor to distinguish himself in the assembly? After all, if I lose myself in worship, if I get overemotional and physically expressive—well, what kind of example is that anyhow? Maybe somebody will be uncomfortable, embarrassed even. What about my Baptist heritage? Somebody’s got to make sure things are done in an orderly fashion and make sure nobody gets carried away…barren.

At great personal cost to herself, Michal teaches us something very important about God. He is not the safe-keeper of our reputations. And our role, be it pastor, King, homemaker or doctor is not to keep ourselves from embarrassment. We must come before the king and worship with all our might.

I wonder if Michal had lost sight of God’s mercy. I wonder if she’s become so self-protected, regal, refined and order-conscious that the wild and extravagant mercy of God had been packed up and sent to storage.

Michal never bore children after that day, but in ways that matter most, she’d been barren long before.

Therefore, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy…live a life of worship. Can you remember the thrill? Bow, sing, live, dance before the only One worthy.

King David danced. His view of God’s mercy was never obscured. David bore the scars of a life of suffering, pain, sin and abandonment. He was the runt of the litter, the forgotten brother and son. He stood against giants, yet fell to sexual sin. He lost a son. He hid in caves while his enemies plotted his death. And yet through it all, he recalled God’s mercy. He declared God king—he knew that God wasn’t safe, that life with God is an adventure, and that God can take care of himself. And so David did the only thing God ever wants from us: he worshipped.

Living a life of worship isn’t to live in a dreamland, ignorant of pain and suffering. Worshipping God is to allow him to define your life rather than the pain and suffering. To worship is to say that the deepest reality is not your fear, your reputation, and that of the church.

To live a life of worship is to dance the dance of the God-struck, in view of His mercy, delighting in His presence, declaring Him supreme. Amen.

[i]This title is taken from an article by Mark Buchanan, “Dance of the God-Struck” in the October 07, 2002 edition of Christianity Today. As any good friend would, Mark allows me to borrow his stuff freely. Borrowing the title has more to do with honoring a friend than using a good title. Mark is God-struck and has been used by God to help challenge and shape my understanding of worship.

[ii]The outline of the story of David, Uzzah and Michal is taken from Mark Buchanan’s article noted above.