Your Work of Worship Is Letting Worship Work on You
Let me tell you the truth.
Rushing to the airport and getting on the plane to our denomination's 2026 General Assembly felt like more work than it was worth to me last Sunday. I can't explain why exactly. Have you ever been in a mood? I was.
Then my flight was delayed by storms over Louisville, Kentucky and I didn't walk into my hotel room until quarter to four in the morning Eastern time, which is late even by Pacific time standards. My gracious roommate welcomed me even though his alarm was set for six.
My mood persisted until Tuesday night, when we assembled for the opening worship service. I had been grousing over some of the things I saw on our docket this year, and then like Psalmist says, "it seemed to me a wearisome task, until I entered the sanctuary of the LORD." (Psalm 73:16-17)
Worship sometimes feels like more work than it's worth. As I headed to the assembly hall where over 2500 people were gathering, I was just getting over my moderate jet lag headache. I had seen a few friends, but I felt like I had spent a lot of effort traveling across the country to go to a church service. You've had that feeling on a Sunday morning. Was this worth it? Was this trip to church worth it?
As I looked for a seat in the massive hall, I saw a friend that I hadn't talked to in a few years. He had a seat for me. He is preparing to be on the host committee for next year's assembly, so he told me he's thinking about how the worship services are arranged this year. My mindset went to things I liked and didn't like about how the service was going. Has that ever happened to you on a Sunday morning?
Then just in front of us a family sat down with three children. Mom and the teenage daughter on one side and dad on the other, but between them two boys who were less interested in the service than anyone. They fidgeted. They dropped things including a glasses case, their worship bulletin, and a stuffed animal - all which my friend kindly picked up and passed forward to them.
The sermon was great. I appreciated it, but I realized these boys weren't into it. The band was great, but again, these boys weren't interested. I was trying to decide if these boys annoyed me, or if they mirrored where my heart was.
Then something happened I can't quite explain. We came to the Lord's Supper. It takes a long time to pass out the elements for so many people, so we sang a song as it was happening. It was boorishly slow and the melody was okay. Suddenly, I remembered something someone once said to me that I have said to many people: You should come to church expecting to sing one song you don't like.
I suddenly realized I was experiencing church the way most people who aren't pastors experience church each week. I wasn't in control of what was going on up front. The stress of getting there was getting to me. I wasn't sure exactly what I was feeling or supposed to feel in the moment. But then I "entered into the sanctuary of the LORD."
It dawned on me that those boys and I were together in this experience. Not only that, there were people all around me having the same experience. They loved the song I hated, but they didn't like one different song. Some thought the sermon was amazing, and others just thought it was okay. A lot of people in the room were going to engage the docket of the assembly later that night, and there would be matters they would disagree about publicly. Yet there we all were.
The only thing that held us all together is Jesus, our risen Lord.
What a marvel that Jesus, our risen Lord, holds us all together.
Then I had a sentimental thought. Those squirming boys reminded me of the days when my children squirmed in church and how I worried about it. Now those days are gone. Watching those boys made me thankful for those days. Then I found myself thankful for the whole worship service.
All of a sudden the plate with the bread came past me and I almost cried.
Suddenly, I was there with the Psalmist when he said:
Nevertheless, I am continually with you;
you hold my right hand.
You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will receive me to glory.
Whom have I in heaven but you?
And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
(Psalm 73:23-26)
It took all those things - the Word preached, the Sacrament, the prayers - so that my heart could warm up and recognize the gift of sitting there, singing that lame song, watching squirming boys, and becoming grateful for the gift that Christ gives me by giving me his Church.
Worship sometimes seems like more trouble than it's worth, but let it work on you. Jesus will give you exactly what you need in the moment.