It seems fair to say that anyone who has given a moment’s thought to heaven has come face to face with a frightening picture. The scene involves reams and reams of white tulle, and depicts something like a never-ending hymn-sing. Under this kind of delusion, the mere mention of “heaven” can be enough to chill the blood.
Fortunately, the whole idea is wrong-headed. For many of us, I think it stems from a fundamental misconception about the nature of worship. The Bible assures us that the main business of heaven will, in fact, be worship. But we think that worship is something that we can accomplish only while doing nothing else. This is partly due to the fact of our church experience: we meet in large buildings, seat ourselves in rows, and concentrate on this business of “worship” for roughly an hour and a half. Worship can become wrongly entangled with a narrow concept of time and place.
I also suspect that an overly Sunday-morning-like idea of heaven is often due to our somewhat shallow worship lives. We have seldom praised God while jogging, climbing mountains or drinking coffee, so we do not know we can. Our picture of worship can be far too inactive, spatially-bound, and sanitized.
In reality, the pleasures of earth are a mere echo of the joys of heaven, where the ‘five senses’ will be maximized (if not expanded to an even dozen). Heaven will be an adventure soaked in praise, an exploration of God-infused reality, “Further up and further in!”—not an eternal seat in the pew.
The extent to which we see this now may well hinge on whether or not we live a really worship-full life.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Spiritual Journey: Heaven Hang-up, Wrong-headed Worship
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5 comments:
So true - we don't worship enough outside of the Sunday service. When I head down the mile to the beach (you know I had to get that in somehow) and see the waves crashing on the shoreline, the surfers attempting to balance themselves atop the white foam, I see God's beauty, yet I don't "worship" it. Thanks for the nice reminder that we can worship Him in ALL that we do.
Should you choose to accept (really, there is no obligation) consider yourself tagged.
Regarding the actual post, this reminds me of Calvin's view that man is an "idol machine." If this is true then, fundamentally, we are built for worship. Perhaps this understanding could unlock a proper perspective of what a person is.
Thanks for reminding me of Lewis' Narnian paradise. Like a breath of fresh air. I hope our paradise bears some resemblance to it.
That's one of my all time favorite movie quotes. I used to run purely for the love of running. I didn't know it then, but I could feel his pleasure. When I'd get done running two, three, five miles, I'd be smiling, because I didn't know any better. Now, I hate running. Somewhere along the line, someone convinced me it had to be about working out, getting in shape, finding women, etc... So, instead I hike. There's nothing competitive in that. And the view from the top of Glacier Point in Yosemite is so awe-inspiring, you can't help but praise God!
Andy, Grace, Will, you're pointing up the fact that worship should be ingrained in everything. John Piper memorably says that we should "drink orange juice to the glory of God" and I heartily agree that creation, running, hiking, (basketball, coffee), et all, should act like spark plugs for our prayers.
Of course, there's a danger in this realization too. As OC notes, people are idol factories. We tent toward self-focus like water "tends" to run downhill. It's easy to internalize and personalize worship so that it becomes another designer activity...the type of "private" preference to which we are so prone.
I say this because so many people (myself included) would be only too happy to ditch "church" because of its various inconveniences and "worship" exclusively via more stimulating "experiences."
The bottom line? That we can, thankfully, worship God anywhere and everywhere. It's church and the mountains, weekly discipline and moments of spontaneous gratitude.
Enough said, there.
Camille, I also enjoy the Narnian glimpses of heaven. I rest assured that Lewis' striking pictures will prove shadowy and insubstantial in comparison to the real thing.
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