PRACTICE: Worship

What’s your song? The one you play in the car on the way home from work. The one you danced to at your wedding. The one you share with a close friend. The track they played at your graduation. (If you’re a parent of young children and your answer is “Baby Shark” or the Paw Patrol theme song, our thoughts and prayers are with you.)

Every aspect of our lives is worship. All the practices we’ve studied together — think fast! — all orient our hearts toward a deeper awareness of God’s proximity. Every breath is worship, whether we’re oriented toward Jesus, money, ambition, beauty, or our careers.

But here, we’re not discussing adoration – worship as our deepest loves. We’re talking about song – worship as audible praise.

At times, our Sunday mornings are preoccupied by our insecurities. (“If I raise my hands or fall on my knees, will everyone stare?”) Maybe we’re distracted by the off-key harmonies of the person next to us or the Sunday morning set list.

But worship isn’t about our musical aptitude or preferences. Worship is a practice that pulls us into a bigger story.

Paul writes in Colossians 3:16, “Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts.” Singing has a powerful effect on our lives.

When we worship through song, we participate in the tapestry of praise that connects all believers throughout history. We share the grief of David in the Psalms and the joy of Mary in Luke. The language, location, and instruments may vary, but we sing the same hymn as the believer in Africa and Asia or a Jesus follower from a previous century.

Worship connects us to community. (Singing with others actually releases oxytocin to our brains, the same hormone that helps build attachment between a mother and her child.) When we sing in a gathering, we take up one another’s joys and burdens. We sing a lament, and we mourn on behalf of the mourners. We sing a song of joy, and we rejoice on behalf of our neighbor.

Worship also reawakens our hunger for the marvelous. It increases our capacity for mystery. When we raise our voices, we loosen our grip. We step into deeper trust.

At times, we may sing about God defeating giants but feel like we’re standing at the feet of Goliath — without so much as a slingshot in our hands. Or maybe we sing about God’s faithfulness while wrestling with deep doubt. This is not a contradiction. This is what the people of God do. Regardless of our circumstances, musical ability, or denominational preferences — God is worthy of our worship. He deserves our highest praise.

He’s King whether we feel like it or not. In the words of Eugene Peterson, “Worship does not satisfy our hunger for God. It whets our appetite.”

So, what’s your song? The hymn you bring to Jesus in the mountains, valleys, and meadows? The song you sing in the car on your way to the doctor’s appointment? The one you play in the middle of the night when you’re too anxious to sleep and too exhausted to do anything but hum along?

Whatever it is, let it out – Jesus loves to hear it.