Showing Up: Worship as the First Work of the Faithful

The Orangeburg Series

Readers of past posts may recognize sermons in this series. To anyone who may be disappointed to see a "rerun," I apologize. I dare say, however, that for a preacher, revisiting familiar sermonic ground is as delightful an experience as a walk in a familiar wood or a stroll on a favorite beach.

October 9, 2011
Isaiah 6:1-8; Romans 12:1-2

One book in the New Testament has been responsible for more revolutions, reformations, revivals, and conversions than any other book in the history of the Christian faith.

For example, in September of the year 386, a young professor of rhetoric at the university of Milan sat despondently in a garden. Through tears of frustration at his confusion over the character and quality his life—or the lack thereof—he read the verses, “Let us conduct ourselves becomingly as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, nor in quarrelling and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.” The young professor wrote this about his encounter with those verses: “No further would I read, nor had I any need; instantly, at the end of this sentence, a clear light flooded my heart and all the darkness of doubt vanished away.” His name was Augustine, and he went on from that experience in the garden to became the first great theologian of the Christian faith—and a saint, no less.

Fast-forward to the early 1500s. An Augustinian monk and university professor was reading the same New Testament book and struggling with a particular expression in it: the “righteousness of God.” He wrote, “Night and day I pondered until . . . I grasped the truth that the righteousness of God is that righteousness whereby, through grace and sheer mercy, [God] justifies us by faith. Thereupon I felt myself to be reborn and to have gone through open doors into paradise. The whole of Scripture took on a new meaning, and whereas before ‘the righteousness of God’ had filled me with hate, now it became to me inexpressibly sweet in greater love. This passage . . . became to me a gateway to heaven.” From reading this book, Martin Luther launched the Protestant Reformation and changed the course of the history of the Christian church.

One more example. Two hundred years after Luther, on an evening in May in 1738, an Englishman in his 30s sat in a church on Aldersgate Street in London and listened to the Preface to Luther’s commentary on this book read out loud. He wrote in his journal about that evening: “About a quarter before nine, while [Luther’s Preface] was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for my salvation; and an assurance was given me that he had taken my sins away, even mine; and saved me from the law of sin and death.” From this “Aldersgate conversion” in which his “heart felt strangely warmed,” John Wesley went on to found the Christian movement that became the Methodist church, and once again this one book was responsible for a revolutionary new course in Christian faith and practice.

It is no wonder that the great British New Testament scholar F.F. Bruce wrote in the introduction to his commentary, “There is no telling what may happen when people begin to study the Epistle to the Romans.” Paul’s letter to the Romans is responsible for more revolutions, reformations, revivals, and conversions than any other book in the history of the Christian faith.

This morning, we’re only looking at two verses from Romans, but as we saw in the case of Augustine, it only took two verses to put a university professor on the road to sainthood! So “there is no telling what may happen,” even if we read only two verses. Romans 12:1-2 mark a new beginning in the book. In chapters 1-11, the apostle Paul lays out great ideas of the Christian faith: the righteousness of God, justification by faith, the nature of sin, the nature of grace, the nature of the gospel, the work of Jesus Christ in salvation, and many more. But in Romans 12:1-2, Paul turns from great ideas to great and faithful living in the light of those great ideas. After all, what good are great ideas if you don’t put them into practice? That’s what Paul calls us to do beginning in Romans 12:1: put the faith we profess into practice.

According to Paul, putting the faith we profess into practice begins with worship. “I appeal to . . . you, brothers and sisters, . . . to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.” So the first work of the faithful is worship. We gather in this place in the morning of every first day of the week to worship God, because in our work-week, as it were, our first work is worship.

Maybe you’ve heard the conventional wisdom that “90% of success is just showing up.” “90% of success is just showing up.” I have to admit that I usually consider that statement not conventional wisdom but conventional stupidity. It takes a whole lot more to succeed than just showing up. But this morning, at the risk of attracting the ire of preachers and pastors and teachers and employers the world over, I’m going to endorse the conventional stupidity that “90% of success is just showing up.”

Here’s why. First, if you don’t show up, you can’t possibly succeed, so “just showing up” is in fact the foundation for success. Second, the first thing the apostle Paul says when he turns from talking about great theological ideas to talk about great and faithful living is “prez-ent your bodies.” Prez-ent. Be there. Now, I know as well as you do that the correct pronunciation is “pre-zent.” But you cannot pre-zent anything if you are not prez-ent.

When it comes to worship, the common stupidity turns out to be pretty wise. 90% is prez-enting “your body as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.” Congratulations. You are 90% there just by being here. If you are listening on the radio because you can’t get here, you are 90% here by being there where you can participate by hearing. But none of us, no matter where we are, is where we need to be yet.

But before we move on from where we are to where we need to be, let’s take a moment to look at here. I cannot tell you how important it is to see and to understand that according to Paul we don’t come to worship “to get something out of it.” We come to worship to give something to God. The something we come to worship to give to God is ourselves: “present your body as a living sacrifice . . . to God.” If you came to worship this morning in order to get something out of it, then you came here putting yourself ahead of God, and that’s idolatry. When God said in the Ten Commandments, “You shall have no other gods before me,” that includes the god of self who comes to worship thinking that worship is about what I get out of it instead of about what I give to God first, foremost, and forever.

In a famous description of worship that I’m sure you’ve heard before but that we can’t hear often enough, the great Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard characterized worship as a play on a stage with actors, prompters, and an audience. The actors in the drama of worship are everyone in the congregation gathered to “exalt God” as the mission statement of this congregation says of worship. You are the actors in worship prez-enting and pre-zenting “your bodies as living sacrifices . . . to God.” That’s what you are doing right now. The leaders in worship—the preacher, the praise team or the choir, the deacons, the ushers, whoever reads Scripture or leads in prayer—are all merely prompters, people whose job is to prompt you the actors as you act out your part and deliver your lines for the audience who is God. The music that is sung or played in worship is not sung or played for us as though we were the audience. It is sung and played as an offering to God who is the audience. The sermon is not offered to you for your approval or disapproval. The sermon is offered to God for God’s approval or disapproval and as a prompt—a prompt for you to respond to God by offering yourself to God.

Look at the drama of worship in Isaiah 6 that we heard read this morning. If you have a Bible with you, open it to Isaiah 6. In Isaiah 6, the prophet Isaiah is present for worship in the temple in Jerusalem—Isaiah has done his 90%. But the more import presence than the presence of Isaiah in the temple is the presence of God: Isaiah “saw the Lord, sitting on a throne, high and lifted up,” verse 1 says. The audience—God—is present, and the drama of worship begins in v 3 with the praise of God in a Hebrew praise chorus: qadosh qadosh qadosh adonai tzebaoth melo’ kol ha’aretz kebodo, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.” That song of praise wasn’t sung for Isaiah; Isaiah wasn’t the audience. It was sung for God; God is the audience and the object of praise in worship.

The praise of God in verse 3 is followed by a confession of sin in verse 5: “Woe is me,” says Isaiah, “I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips.” Any time we catch even the slightest glimpse of the holiness and the glory of God we cannot help but recognize our own unholiness. But by God’s mercy and by God’s grace, “If we confess our sins, God who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness,” as 1 John 1:9 says. And so the confession of sin in Isaiah 6:5 is followed by the forgiveness of sin in verse 8: “your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out,” Isaiah is told.

After praise and confession and forgiveness, worship continues with a word from God, in this case, a question that is a call: “Whom shall I send, and who will go?” comes the word. And worship is not complete until the worshippers respond: “Here am I! Send me!” Isaiah answers in response to the word that he has heard. Praise. Confession of sin. Assurance of forgiveness. Proclamation of the word. Response to the word. That’s the movement of the drama of worship, and 90% of it is getting yourself here on stage to play your part for God. Congratulations! But even if showing up is 90% of success, it’s only 90% of success; and the other 10% makes all the difference.

Look at verse 2 of Romans 12: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.” The other 10% is being changed by God, being “transformed,” being renewed, being revolutionized, being reformed, being revived, being converted. Did you come here to be changed today? Did you come here to be transformed, renewed, revolutionized, reformed, revived, converted? I did. I walked into this room to offer myself to God—that’s the 90%—and I walked into this room to be transformed, re-formed, re-newed, revived, converted by God—that’s the 10%, the difference that makes a difference in my life and yours.

When we give ourselves over to God as a living sacrifice, God never fails to give our selves back to us, changed, converted, revived, renewed, re-formed, transformed, in the direction of God’s will, which Paul defines as “what is good and acceptable and perfect.” Remember what F.F. Bruce said: “There is no telling what may happen when people begin to study the Epistle to the Romans”? Well, there’s also no telling what may happen when people begin to worship, when people begin to prez-ent and pre-zent themselves, body and mind, “as living sacrifices, holy and acceptable to God.” Because when we do, God changes us.

I don’t happen to know what kind of change needs to happen in your life this morning. Maybe you are like Augustine, disappointed or despondent in the character and quality of your life, and you need an entirely new direction, a fresh new start. What you need this morning is for “clear light” to flood your “heart and all the darkness of doubt” to vanish away. Maybe you are like Luther, struggling with something that just doesn’t makes sense to you. And what you need is to feel yourself “reborn . . . so that the very thing that is filling you with confusion or pain or anger or hate can become to you “a gateway to heaven.” Maybe you are like Wesley, needing your heart to feel “strangely warmed” by the assurance that Christ has taken your sins away, even yours.” Maybe the change that needs to happen in your life this morning is not Augustine’s or Luther’s or Wesley’s or anyone else’s, and maybe only you and God know what it is. You are 90% of the way there just by being here.

Open yourself now to the other 10%, and ask God here and now for the revolution, the transformation, the reformation, the renewal, the revival, or the conversion that you need. 90% of success is showing up. The other 10% is opening up: opening yourself up to God to be changed today and every Lord’s Day in worship.

Copyrighted © 2011 by Jeffrey S. Rogers. It may be copied or disseminated for non-commercial use, provided this notice is included. The author can be contacted at jeffrogers110@bellsouth.net.

Beginning and New Beginning

John 1:1-18
Epiphany Sunday 2011

A couple days before Christmas, I was helping my eighteen-year-old son change a flat tire on his truck in the parking lot of a fast-food restaurant. To tell you the truth, I was enjoying myself. I’m not a fan of flat tires, mind you; but once your kid leaves home for college, changing a flat tire together in the parking lot of a fast-food restaurant actually feels like quality time together.

We weren’t quite finished when we were approached by a panhandler, a man in his late 30s or early 40s asking for a meal. He said he was embarrassed to ask for help, and he didn’t want money. But he said he was an out-of-work construction worker and he had four mouths to feed, and if I would buy him supper, he would sure be grateful to me. I wanted to say to him, “Can’t you see you’re interrupting a father-son thing here? Leave us alone.” Then I wondered, “Do I have a neon sign on my back that flashes, ‘Sucker!’?” I wanted to say, “Go scam somebody else, man. I don’t have time for this, and your supper is not in my budget.” Not to mention the fact that we were in the parking lot of a burger joint and he wanted dinner for four from the chicken place a half a mile away. Right.

But it was a couple days before Christmas, and he sure enough looked as though he was down on his luck, and he didn’t ask for cash, and I thought about what I would want somebody to do for my son if he was out of work in his 30s or 40s with four mouths to feed, and besides, it had only been ten days since I had preached a sermon about God being in the business of filling the hungry with good things (Luke 1:53; 6:21), so the next thing I knew, I was standing at the counter of that chicken place buying dinner to go for four people I still don’t know.

I don’t know whether I got scammed or whether I actually helped someone, but along the way the fellow I bought dinner for said this: “I’ll be glad when this year is over. I sure hope next year is better than this one was.” At one time or another in our lives, every one of us has a deep need to turn the calendar to a new year. Sooner or later, every one of us comes to a place in our lives when we need fresh start, a new beginning.

That’s what those New Year’s celebrations that some of us are still recovering from do. “Ringing out the old and ringing in the new” is our culture’s attempt at a ritual of new beginning. Those resolutions we make his time of year express the yearning for a fresh start that deep in the human soul we hunger and thirst for. We need new beginnings, and that’s what this morning’s gospel lesson from the Revised Common Lectionary is about. It’s about a new beginning.

John 1:1-18 begins by talking about the old beginning: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being.” Those verses are about creation, “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth” (Genesis 1:1). But the point of talking about the old beginning, about creation, in the first three verses of the gospel of John is to create a springboard for talking about a new beginning, about a new creation, about being born all over again “of God,” verse 13 says.

The gospel of Jesus Christ is about “new wine” and “a new garment” (Luke 5:36-37) and “a new covenant” (Luke 22:20) and “a new commandment” (John 13:34) and “new life” (Romans 7:6) and “a new creation” (2 Corinthians 5:17) and “a new self” (Ephesians 4:24). God knows every one of us needs a new self every now and then! And this morning’s gospel lesson is the springboard to a new self for every one of us, for every one of us “to be renewed,” as Ephesians 4:23 puts it, and “to clothe [ourselves] with the new self, created according to the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” (Ephesians 4:24).

If you only look at the surface of the New Year’s celebrations and New Year’s dissipations and New Year’s resolutions and New Year’s dissolutions, you might not recognize that underneath it all is a deep hunger and thirst in the human soul for a fresh start, a new beginning; but that’s what it is. And verse 12 in this morning’s gospel lesson provides the blueprint, the “new and living way,” as Hebrews 10:20 puts it, to that fresh start, that new beginning, that “new self” that God knows every one of us needs. Three words in John 1:12: receive, believe, become. Receive, believe, become.

Have you ever thought about why it is that “self-help” books are a billion-dollar business? It’s because self-help doesn’t work. If self-help worked, you could by one good self-help book and you’d be done. But have you noticed how those of us who buy self-help books can’t buy just one? It’s like that bag of potato chips: you can’t eat just one. You have to have another and another and another because self-help doesn’t work. Self-help can’t create a new self; it only nurtures the hunger and thirst of the deep need of the human soul for a new beginning. The new beginning that leads to a new self can only come when that hunger and thirst on the inside receive from the outside the nourishment we need. That’s not just a theological assertion; it’s a biological and spiritual reality.

Your body can feed on itself. In the short-term, your body can burn the fat you have stored up, and it can devour the muscle you have built in order to keep itself alive and functioning. But sooner or later, your body must receive nourishment from the outside—protein and carbohydrates and minerals and nutrients and fluids—that will restore the muscle and replenish the fat reserves that it can live on for only so long. Like body, like soul.

The words of Jesus in the gospel of John express this biological and spiritual and theological reality when he said, “those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life” (John 4:14). Jesus said, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty” (John 6:35). How can that be? Never hungry? Never thirsty? We don’t know any condition of the human body or the human soul in this life in which hunger and thirst are permanently satisfied. But here’s the thing. It’s not one-and-done. It is the constant presence of Jesus Christ, Emmanuel, “God with us,” feeding our hunger and satisfying our thirst, offering us again and again the bread of life and the cup of new life.

Now, look at the order of things John 1:12. Receive, believe, become. We don’t receive because we believe. Belief comes from receiving, not the other way around. Belief comes from receiving, not the other way around. That’s one of the things that the so-called “new atheists” refuse to understand about the Christian faith. The Christian faith does not begin with a prior assumption of belief. In fact, the Christian faith begins in the absence of belief. Christian faith germinates and takes root and sprouts and grows when someone recognizes that he or she has received something spiritual from the outside in that is every bit as real as the something nutritional that our bodies receive from the outside in. The Christian faith does not begin within us; it begins outside us in a mystery that we come to understand as God who acts on us and in us and with us so that we come to believe in God because of what we have received, not the other way around. Receive, and you will believe. Receive, believe, become.

When I was much younger, growing up Lutheran, I didn’t understand the old Baptist propensity for an annual revival. I understand it now. It was an expression of the deep human need for a new beginning. It was grounded in the recognition that sooner or later, every one of us comes to a place in our lives where we need fresh start, and an annual revival—like New Year’s and the arrival of spring and the first day of summer and the beginning of a new school year and the beginning of new church year at Advent and the celebration of the birth of Jesus in our world and in our lives—offered one more opportunity for a person and a community to claim a new beginning, a fresh start, for becoming who God has created and called them to be all over again. It’s a shame we urbane and sophisticated Baptists have lost that.

But we haven’t lost it entirely. Because every time we set this table we extend an invitation to receive, to believe, and to become. Not everyone comes here hungry and thirsty for this bread and this cup every time we serve it. That’s why communion doesn’t necessarily move you every time you receive it. We don’t do this every month for everyone. We do this every month for the sake of the one person among us who comes into this room hungering and thirsting to receive, to believe, and to become. The rest of us take the bread and pass it on, and we take the cup and pass it on, not for ourselves but for the sake of the one person in the room whose deep hunger and thirst has brought them this morning to this place and to this people where and among whom they can receive and believe and become who God has created and called them to be.

So let’s take the bread and pass it on; let’s take the cup and pass it on. Because someone among us has a deep need to turn the calendar to a brand new year. Someone among us—maybe you—is hungering and thirsting for a new beginning, a fresh start, to receive, to believe, to become.

Photo by Andrew Dallos, used under license by Creative Commons.

This material is Copyrighted © 2011 by Jeffrey S. Rogers. It may be copied or disseminated for non-commercial use, provided this notice is included. The author can be contacted at jeff.rogers@firstbaptistgreenville.com.