Embracing the Craziness

"If it seems we are crazy, it is to bring glory to GOD..." — 2 Corinthians 5:13, New Living

As far as we know, the woman who broke the alabaster jar and poured all the costly contents over Jesus was not singing, raising her hands, or dancing in the front row. But it was extravagant, over-the-top worship nonetheless; and while it stirred God’s heart, it caused some to say, “what a waste.”

As far as we know, Jonathan and his armor bearer weren’t doing any singing, hand-raising, or dancing on their way to risk their lives and rout the Philistine camp while the rest of his father’s warriors were hanging back. But it was extravagant worship nonetheless; and it stirred God’s heart yet can cause our supposedly sensible mind to read and think, “Man, are you crazy? What are you doing?!”

You can fairly quickly find Biblical definitions of things like faith, hope, and love. Not so worship. Men and women have tried for centuries but have never quite been able to find enough or the right words, or simply cannot wrap their arms and mind around it all. Worship, the kind that is lived full-on because you know that you know deep down inside that it's in Christ alone "we live and move and have our being," can't be contained because God can't be contained. Which means that extravagant worship can't be contained in 20 minutes of inspired singing, or relegated to only those who sing or play an instrument, or who do so the loudest, or who have no problem expressing themselves to God. In fact, as Jonathan and the woman with the alabaster jar prove, music isn't even required.

Extravagant worship isn't just a Sunday morning thing, either, although it can certainly begin then and there. Except that it's not confined by four church walls, knows no particular church denomination, and is irrespective of personality type. It can be any and everything you do, and anywhere you are. And while it cannot be put in a box with a nice bow on top, it does look something like this:

"...Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for Him." (Romans 12:1, The Message)

Or, in the words of one of the great pastors in my life:

Worship is "the constant conscious awareness of the presence of God."

I think that definition comes as close as any, and yet it is much more than that, even. Extravagant worship is what happens when a man or woman chooses to go all-in on the Greatest Commandment, believing that to love the Lord with all you are goes way beyond Sunday or a noble idea, and is a call to action to daily cultivate child-Father relationship that overflows into love for and service to others (whatever your job, calling, or passion).

What is strangely wonderful is that when that relationship, even through seasons of fits and starts, is nurtured and pursued over months, over years, any sense of "I have to because, well, I have to" somehow transforms into a consistent, mysteriously wonderful "want to." And it's rooted in a place so far down within, you can't even begin to locate it. Or explain it. But it's there and it's relentless, because that's who He is, and it keeps bubbling up to the surface seeking to drown with Love all that is ultimately superfluous and temporary...and not only that, it can be life-changing for someone, even you. 

LORD, it is good to remember that the woman with the alabaster jar and Jonathan, and a whole multitude of men and women who have gone before us, are not the freaks, the exceptions, or the too-heavenly-minded-to-do-any-earthly-good types. Each have been world-changers in their own way. Who doesn't want that? So, this morning, yes Lord, it will be good to sing like never before. Better still to remember that a lifestyle of extravagant worship is probably meant to be normal rather than the exception, authentic and not weird. Let me embrace the craziness, and remember that when the voices in my head try to argue,"What a waste. What are you doing?!," I can know that You are cheering me on louder still.

“God is so vastly wonderful, so utterly and completely delightful, that He can, without anything other than Himself, meet and overflow the deepest demands of our total nature, mysterious and deep as that nature is.”― A.W. Tozer

(Updated from November 2015)

 

Refuge, Beyond Sunday

“LORD, You have been our dwelling place—our refuge, our sanctuary, and our stability—in all generations.”—Psalm 91:1, Amplified

I hate heights. And I don’t particularly have any affection for castles. But there they both were, inviting me in…

… Like just about any week, this one was about unintentional multitasking, when on top of your own to-do list there is the invasion of “need this now” tasks from several somebody else’s to-do list. It is a given in the-cubicle-is-my-home business world, and in just about every world in which you happen to be operating—parent, caregiver, teacher, farmer, delivery professional, chef, or insert your own life here. And in its own weird way, there’s something appealing about wearing the badge of a multitasker who is busy-busy-busy being busy. Until you have this one priority task looming that you know you need to focus on, but time is flying by with busy-busy-busy, and what you fear might be true about wearing that badge really is true:

“Research indicates that multitaskers are actually less likely to be productive, yet they feel more emotionally satisfied with their work, thus creating an illusion of productivity….up to 40 percent of productivity could be lost due to task-switching. It actually takes more time to complete the tasks you're switching between and you make more errors than when you focus on doing one task at a time in order.”—Scott Mautz, inc.com

Time out. Need an escape from all of this. Someplace I can get away from the invasion of “need this now” that feels like relentless waves from a Nor’easter pounding the New England shore. But where? And how?…

…I remember driving through a familiar small town, with its little cubicle-like shops lining the main thoroughfare. Strangely, observing but not interested. Keep driving. And then there they were, right there in the middle of the beautiful New England countryside: three humongous towers. One out of the corner of my eye was a tall, business-like glass skyscraper that I ignored. In front of me, totally out of place, were these tall castle towers that for some strange reason didn’t make my hands sweat at their tallness. Instead, my reaction was like that of Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz when she emerged from the field of sleep-inducing poppies and first saw the Emerald City’s towers: “It’s beautiful!”

And peaceful. And quiet. Not even a breeze. “What are these doing here?,” I asked. And I heard the voice of one of my leaders at work say something a bit odd: “They keep the critters out.” One of the castle towers was connected to a huge building with an even huge-er front lawn of grass and hedges. Without hesitation, I began to bound up the sidewalk…

I hate it when you wake up from a dream just when you’re getting to the good part.

It didn’t take a professional dream interpreter to realize that there might be something to this, of wanting nothing to do with storefront cubicles and to finding a place of safety and escape to focus on my task, and trying to get God's heart in it all. Then, there was this:

“The Name of the LORD is a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are safe.”—Proverbs 18:10, NIV

Retreats and getaways are great, but often can’t be penciled in to your daytimer. Then what? It's easy to forget in the heat of the day that our good, good Father has re-opened the way to continual fellowship for all who believe, through the sacrifice of Love by His son Jesus Christ, and that in the Name of the LORD, we can go run to His presence as often as we wish.

Anywhere we are, there He is.

He is always home. His presence will always be just as sweet as we found it years ago, or yesterday. The comfortable furniture of Truth and Promise will always be just where they’ve always been. The banqueting table is forever ready for conversation, for listening, for the ultimate hanging out time. Here, the door is always open, but here, the gates of hell cannot prevail—because the Strong Tower “keeps the critters out,” including the ones known as worry, and stress, and insecurity, and false accusation, and distraction.

It is good to remember (and to be reminded often, as I was the next day with headphones tuned to some Up-lifting music, even as multitasking screamed for attention) that when the waves of multitasking of any kind crash in uninvited, the Name of the LORD is a refuge to run to in the midst of it all, and to rethink “going to church” on Sunday as not a one-stop escape from the world with no connection to reality, but to be carried instead as "on earth as it is in heaven" with us into the world of cubicles, and deadlines, and dirty dishes, and heavy traffic.

So be it, LORD, this week, for all who come this way.

"I love to say that not only is the throne room of God a place of reverence, it's always a place of refuge. So when everything else in life seems to be shifting, or breaking and shaking apart, there's a place that is always stable, safe, and constant. When we draw near to God in worship, and approach His throne, we tap into that. It's a very reassuring place, where we're reminded that there's a God on His throne, and even when we don't understand everything, we can trust it to Him."—Matt Redman