WORTHY WORSHIP
sermon based on Isaiah 6:1-9
by Dr. David Rogne

How does one get people to see what they don't want to see and to hear what they don't want to hear? For most of my life I've been trying to make people aware of the injustice prevalent in society so they would make some response to it. I've been trying to get people to put their trust in God instead of possessions. I've been trying to get kings to put more emphasis on the needs of the poor and less emphasis on alliances. I've made my witness, but I haven't been particularly successful. When Ahaz was on the throne of Judah, I went to him and urged him not to enter into an alliance with the Assyrians, for I was confident that they would one day turn on us. He ordered me to keep my mouth shut.

That experience made me reflect on my vocation. I saw myself as a spokesman for God. I felt that God had called me to speak out, but if God had called me, why was I not more successful?

This question caused me to re-examine my own religious experience. My name is Isaiah, son of Amoz. I am a member of one of the noble families of the Kingdom of Judah. My early years had not prepared me to hear the cries of the poor nor to see the plight of the downtrodden in my country. As a member of the aristocracy, I could pass these people by and never notice them. After years of reflection and introspection regarding what brought about the profound sensitivity of my later years, I have come to the conclusion that it was an experience of worship. Therefore, I have come to the conclusion that people's hearts and lives can be changed by worship--not the perfunctory performance of ritual--that kind of worship has been the bane of religion--but authentic worship that involves the mind and will of the worshiper. I don't want to suggest that my experience should be the norm for everyone, but I have come to see that there are universal elements in my experience which can be applied by all people who seek to worship God authentically. If these elements were meaningful for me, I think that they can be meaningful for you and prepare you to hear what God is saying to you.

The first element of authentic worship, as I see it, is the adoration of God. Take my own experience. It was in the year that our beloved king, Uzziah, died: 742 B. C. by your reckoning. I had gone to the temple to pray, and as I stood in the vestibule, before going into the sanctuary, it suddenly became very real to me that I was now in the presence of God. I had been there hundreds of times before, just as many of you may have attended church often. In fact, I had been there so many times that the familiar rituals made very little impression on me. But this time the symbolism and the ritual came alive for me. The choir was no longer simply a group of musicians singing for the acclaim of people, they became like heavenly beings, seraphim, doing what they were intended to do: sing praises to God. I was transported as I heard with new ears: "Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord of Hosts: the whole earth is full of his glory." The incense was no longer a wisp of smoke, it was a representation of God's own mystery; something both physical and spiritual, and yet, not quite either. The candles were no longer simply for illumination; they stood for the brilliance of God's glory. The altar was no longer simply the place of sacrifice: it was the very throne of God. And God spoke to me in all these things. So convincing was the voice that I felt the very foundations of the temple shaking, as though to give a final "Amen" to God's words.

Now, I don't expect everyone to have that same kind of experience, but everyone can adore God; everyone can learn to make God central. Many people have an inadequate approach to worship. They have what you might call the "subjective approach." They worship because it is psychologically healthy. They see themselves as the audience; the preacher and musicians as the actors, putting on the show for their benefit; and God, as it were, in the wings, as the prompter. The congregation is then free to criticize: either it was a good show or it wasn't a good show; it made them feel good, or it didn't make them feel good; and how the congregation feels is all that matters. Do not feel chagrined if you find that that is also your point of view, either consciously or unconsciously. Most of us seem to share in that assumption.

Someone has written a prayer that rather irreverently points up some of the attitudes many of us bring to worship: "Lord, give us all a nice feeling this morning. May Thy special blessing be with those who will be active in this service, while the rest of us sit still and listen. We pray that we may enjoy the preliminaries, and that the sermon may give us all a glow. I know I have offended at least two people this week with my quick temper, but please, do not let the thought of that intrude upon this spiritual feast. Praise God, Amen." I think that those words point out how the subjective process, once begun, degenerates into still greater thoughts on ourselves and not on the one we have come to worship.

Who has not felt such irreverent thoughts as these cropping up occasionally: "O God, I hope the sermon doesn't last more than 15 minutes." "Please, Lord, grant that I did turn the oven down." "If I'd known he was preaching, I'd have gone somewhere else." People are the same in all ages.

The only way to overcome these subjective feelings and to worship God authentically is to recognize God as an objective reality. The purpose of our worship is to serve God, not our mental health. God is the audience, the worshipers are the actors, and the preacher and musicians are the prompters. Confronting the living God must be the goal of every act of worship, not the kindling of some kind of glow in the hearts of the worshipers. Worship must be an attempt to establish a relationship with someone beyond ourselves: the one who made us to be his children.

The second necessity in worship, as I see it, is confession. When I captured a glimpse of the majesty of God, all I could say was, "Woe is me!" When you come face to face with the kind of power that created the universe and keeps it in balance, how can you do anything but stand in awe? When you think what it means to be holy: to have no thought of self, but always and constantly to be making provision for others as God does, how petty we become by contrast; we, who are constantly striving to dominate others, to exploit our relationships, to get rather than to give; how can we do anything but admit our unworthiness? That is what I did. I sensed my own unworthiness; I had to admit that I was undone; I had to admit that my righteousness was no match for the righteousness of God or for God's expectation of me.

I have discovered that confession of one's sins and errors improves one's relationships rather than harming them. Confession brings with it a kind of catharsis. Have you not noticed how tense a relationship becomes when there is something that you should admit to a loved one, but fail to admit? When that happens, we spend so much effort holding back what is inside us and combating the feelings of guilt that are gnawing at us, that there is virtually no enjoyment in the relationship. Similarly, if there is something in our lives which stands between us and God, we can hardly enjoy the relationship of being his children. Actually, the relationship will be painful because we have not set matters right; our guilt may keep us from recognizing God's proper place in our lives.

To confess that we have been wrong or sinful or spiteful or careless requires humility, and it is hard for us to be humble. Yet, unless we start from the ground of humility, we will always make a mess of life. After all, we have to recognize our ignorance of a field of knowledge before we are motivated to learn; we have to face up to our inability to heal ourselves before we will seek the aid of a physician. So confession of our failings is also a necessity for authentic worship.

A third aspect of worship is cleansing. No sooner had I confessed my unworthiness than I felt God's cleansing action at work upon me. You know, over the years people have made all kinds of sacrifices to God, depending upon their situations and upon what they have to offer. In my day people placed expensive animals on altars of fire to show their willingness to sacrifice to God. The smoke was thought to carry their gift heavenward. My sacrifice, however, was my pride. I gave up my pride by confessing my unworthiness through words. On this particular day, as though to confirm my cleansing, I felt as though my very lips were set afire by one of the coals on the temple altar. The fire symbolized cleansing. I felt accepted; I was aware of forgiveness; the feelings of guilt were removed.

Surely this is one of the important necessities of life: forgiveness. Without forgiveness life would be a continuous compounding of unrelieved burdens, for every one of us has things on our record of which we are not proud; every one of us has done things to damage our relationships with others, things which hurt them, things which would cause them to trust us less. If we had only one chance with each person, we would soon be out of friends and out of chances. For that reason, this possibility has been built into life: the possibility of forgiveness. You and I know married persons who have hurt their spouses badly, by something said or done. Is that to be the end of it? The offending party forever guilty? Life would not be worth living under such conditions! Fortunately, when people are humble enough, honest enough, show they care enough, to admit their offense, forgiveness is often forthcoming, and the offending persons are given a new start.

God is not less charitable than a human being. When our worship contains sincere confession, God forgives. We are not thereby made perfect; we cannot pretend that we have not offended; it is simply a matter of God's grace that we need no longer be under judgment. Authentic worship assures us that we are accepted and thereby cleansed.

Finally, let me say that if we are really worshiping God, we should also be doing something. There is a time for contemplation, introspection, and repentance. But when forgiveness is ours, when we have been made right with God, we must seek to balance meditation with action. Good religion serves others. In my own case, before that day in the temple, I was so blinded by my own needs and desires that I took little or no notice of the needs of others. When I became aware of the staggering greatness and goodness of God, however, and of my own small-mindedness by comparison, and of the fact that God had forgiven me, my ears became sensitive to a new sound. I heard the voice of God, within me or without, I do not know, saying, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" For the first time I became aware of my responsibility for others. God must always have been seeking assistance in the accomplishment of his great tasks, must always have been calling people, but I had never been ready to hear. Much to my own surprise, I heard myself volunteering: "Here am I," I said, "send me." The next thing I knew, God had accepted my enlistment and commissioned me to "go."

Going over all this with you has been very helpful to me, for one's religion must never become cut and dried; it must never become something which took place years ago and has not been examined since. Instead, it must be an ongoing, everyday experience of growth. And worship provides us with those periodic opportunities for renewal which are necessary for every one of us. Of course, we must beware of just going through the forms and thinking we have worshiped. That is why I have spoken of authentic worship: worship which truly expresses adoration and confession, and truly leads to forgiveness and action.

Have you been worshiping authentically? There is a way for you to tell. God's voice is still saying, "Whom shall I send?" Into your home; into your business; into your social contacts. If you have not heard his voice, or have heard it, but not responded, then your worship experience is incomplete. But it is not too late; this day you could say, "Here am I, Lord, send me." Amen.