The Gift of Worship

Not only did God tell Abraham his precious son was going to die, He also commanded Abraham to be His executioner. I can’t fathom the emotions Abraham must have processed as he considered all that Yahweh was asking him to do. I find it absolutely remarkable that, in the end, Abraham trusted God to the point that he was willing to give Him his son.

In the natural, the command God gave to Abraham didn’t make much sense. Abraham knew the pagans sacrificed their children to the demon gods, but Yahweh was supposed to be different. Besides that, Isaac was the long-awaited miracle child God had promised him. How could the Lord take him away now? Plus, God had said Abraham would become the father of a great nation, but with Isaac gone, how could that come to pass?

Like I said, Abraham’s trust is almost beyond belief. You see, he didn’t trust the facts. He didn’t follow the logical trail. He didn’t know how it would all work out, only that it would. He had faith in God and His goodness. Millenia later, the Holy Spirit would let the author of Hebrews in on a little secret. Abraham actually did have a bit of a prophetic imagination when it came to the sacrifice of Isaac:

“Abraham’s faith made it logical to him that God could raise Isaac from the dead”. - Hebrews 11:19 TPT

In other words, Abraham knew God’s heart to be that good. He was on the lookout for a miracle, a divine action that would break everything he understood about how this world works. The one absolute in the equation for Abraham was not the sharpness of his blade or the heat of the flames but the goodness of the God he served.

Even with that kind of faith, Abraham was still faced with the reality that he was meant to plunge a knife deep into his beautiful son. It paralyzes me to even contemplate having to do such a thing. And yet, as Abraham left with Isaac to find the spot God would reveal to him, he turned to his servants and said, “Stay here with the donkey.…Isaac and I will go up and worship; then we will return to you” (Genesis 22:5 TPT).

We talk a lot about worship in the church today. Mostly, we mean singing songs on Sunday morning. But Abraham lived out the biblical definition of worship. Abraham was willing to lay down anything and everything before the Lord. Nothing was too precious, and nothing was off-limits. He was completely surrendered. Sacrificing Isaac in obedience to God was his act of worship.

And it wasn’t just his act of worship. Isaac was not a kid at this point. He was a teenager or perhaps a young man, old enough to carry the wood for the altar. If he had wanted to overpower his centenarian father, he could have done so. Abraham was right when he said, “Isaac and I will go up and worship” (v. 5). Before it was all over, Isaac would need to submit to his Father and to the Lord, allowing himself to be bound and placed on the altar, laying down his life in accordance with God’s strange decree.

A lot of people think God has moved past this sort of thing. They believe He would never ask Christians to sacrifice what they love or lay down their own lives. After all, even with Abraham and Isaac, the Lord stayed Abraham’s hand before the deed was done. But Jesus’ own teachings show us nothing has changed. Not really anyway. Each one of us is Abraham when we read these words from our Lord:

“Whoever loves father or mother or son or daughter more than me is not fit to be My disciple”. - Matthew 10:37 TPT

We are all Isaac when we read, “And whoever comes to Me must follow in My steps and be willing to share My cross and experience it as his own, or he is not worthy of Me” (v. 38). Like Isaac before us, we are to carry on our backs the wood that will be used for our own execution.

Worship, then, is our offering to God. Yes, we give God our whole lives: our time, our energy, our work, and our leisure. Yes, we give Him everything we hold dear: our spouse, our children, our family, our friends. But when we praise, our bodies, our hearts, and our minds should be given completely over to Him as well.

Think about David for a minute. When the ark was being brought into Jerusalem, “David was dancing before the Lord with all his might” (2 Samuel 6:14 NIV), so much so that it horrified his wife (see v. 16). Yet David was not dancing for her or for anyone else—not even for his own enjoyment—he was giving himself over to God in an act of pure worship. In fact, he lost himself in the dance.

“David said to Michal, ‘It was before the Lord, who chose me rather than your father or anyone from his house when He appointed me ruler over the Lord’s people Israel…I will celebrate before the Lord. I will become even more undignified than this, and I will be humiliated in my own eyes”. - 2 Samuel 6:21–22 NIV

So, the next time you worship with song, push from your mind everyone and everything except the Lord. Give yourself solely and completely over to the God who loves you. Like Abraham, surrender all that you love on the altar to Yahweh. Like Isaac, lay yourself down in obedience; present yourself as a living sacrifice to Him (Romans 12:1). And like David, be undignified as you praise the King.

Remember: He is your audience of one

What If It's God Standing In Your Way?

“This is my comfort in my Affliction for Your Word has given me Life.” (Psalm 119:50)

The flight attendant accidentally inverted two code numbers and end up with the wrong schedule. She managed to trade flights with other attendants except for one…Flight 175. She needed to be in NY to meet up with some friends. The night before the deadline, she tried again and the computer froze. She was very upset when she called to give her friends the bad news, that she would not be able to make it. She hung up the phone and finished her flights for that night. When she woke up the next morning, she checked the flights only to hear the CNN news that Flight 175 had crashed into the Towers on 9/11. The same flight she so desperately wanted to be on. When her friends found out, one of them said, “God has a plan for you. You were meant to be here…alive!”

In the Bible, Numbers 22, there's a story about Balaam and his donkey. To make a long story short, Balaam was tempted by king Balak to come and curse the children of Israel. Balaam consulted God who told him to leave the people alone. Balak would send messengers with an even bigger temptation, changing Balaam's heart against God. So, God tells him to go. In his going, Balaam would put opposition between him and God. Numbers 22:22 says, “And God's anger was kindled because he went: and the Angel of the Lord stood in the way for an adversary against him.”

Balaam was so blinded by sin that he couldn't see the Angel of the Lord standing in the way, but the donkey could. You know what Balaam did, each time the donkey delayed his impending death, he beat him. He never once took time to see if there was anything wrong with the donkey because he was eager, by temptation, to get to sin. And some of us have been there. You don't have to admit it, but there's been times we've been so entangled with sin and captivated by temptation that we would admittedly lie to Mama, break traffic laws, and go against what we know is right just to get to sin. All while cursing the delay that could save our lives.

Yet, even when we've made God our adversary, He will still send a delay to spare our lives, if we are willing to see it. This is why I asked, What if it's God standing in the way?

Let me put it this way. Biblically, a donkey is called an ass. A female donkey is called a she-ass. In this passage, verse 27 says, “And when the ass saw the Angel of the Lord, she fell down under Balaam. What if falling on your ass saved you? What if the layoff saved you from working at a place that will test your sanity every day of the week? What if the failing business was God standing in the way, saving you from putting money into a building that'll cost you more than it's worth? What if God allowed the contract to fall through because you were getting in bed with the enemy, although you couldn't see it? The relationship you thought was love was lust dressed up and smelling good, so God let them walk away to save you from years of heartache.

What if the fall wasn't punishment but placement in a position to be chosen? What if the fall that crippled you, is also the thing that changes you? What if the thing that hurts you also hides you until God honors you? What if the fall that caused jail time is a thing God is going to use to propel you to purpose? What if the bad decisions that put you in a desolate place is the very place, you'll hear God calling your name? What if the fall turns into your testimony to save others?

Balaam didn't see God until the ash fell. Some of us, God is literally blocking our path and we are still doing everything to get through. Balaam was run into a field, had his foot crushed against a wall and still he was eagerly trying to get to evil. The donkey laid down then started talking, and Balaam was too blinded by temptation to recognize his life was being spared. And that's some of us. Still fighting when we ought to be thanking God for blocking what should have killed us, what wasn't for us, for severing what we didn't have the strength to end and for standing in the way when we were too drunk off sin to see the danger in our actions.

Some of us are to be praying, “God, thank You for standing in my way because You stopped me from chasing what has the power to crush me. Thank You for standing in my way because I was headed to revive what You've been telling me to let die. God, thank You for standing in my way because I couldn't see it was me causing the problem. God, thank You for standing in my way, freeing me from inflicting the wounds. God, thank You for standing in my way because Your standing, saved me.”

A Holy Awareness - Set Apart

I remember when I first got saved, running hard after God. I thought if I could have one thing in the world, it was holiness. Maybe it sounds to you like it did to me: Intently focused on God. Super-spiritual, even. But looking back, I actually think what I wanted was to be perfect.

I finally realized this: The only reason I wanted to be a perfectionist was that I detested my own failure. But I didn’t hate sin and weakness in me because it grieved God; I hated it because I thought I was better than that. It was a chip in my façade, a chink in my armor. I didn’t hate sin because I loved God; I hated sin because I loved myself. I loved my own achievement, my own goodness, my own…righteousness.

Maybe you’re wondering: Is there anything wrong with wanting to be perfect? Doesn’t God say to “be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect”? Shouldn’t we have zero tolerance for our weakness and sin? But you see, my craving to be unchained from weakness was cleverly cloaked in the right lingo of “holiness.” And the god of my quest was myself. Insecurity seeped out around my failures. It leaked out when I didn’t meet my standard. Pride and insecurity are actually the same sin. Both place my sense of value or lack thereof in my ability to achieve my goals on my own. When I don’t meet my standards, I feel inferior and insecure. When I’m meeting my standards? I’m on top of the world…and likely feeling a bit superior. Neither pride nor insecurity is based on God’s acceptance of me or His value of me, apart from what I bring to the table.

Now, I have started to see holiness less as being free of wrong and weakness. I no longer believe that it strictly lies in the perfection of my outward behavior.

There are only two kinds of beliefs: those that teach you to obey in order to be accepted; and those that teach that you obey because you are accepted. Everywhere in the Bible, God confronts attempts at self-salvation. Jesus earned my verdict. He says I’m accepted. I’m cleared. The verdict leads to performance. The performance does not lead to the verdict. When I accept Jesus’ verdict of “innocent” for me, God says to me what He did for Jesus: “This is my beloved daughter, in whom I am well pleased.”

Instead of being motivated by fear of failure, weakness, not being accepted…holiness is now motivated by faith that I am unconditionally, overwhelmingly loved, accepted, and thankfully NOT in control. It means I’m no longer trying to save myself. Instead, I’m allowing God to save me. My holiness flows from acceptance rather than insecurity.

Rather than strict control of my outward performance, holiness now feels like an act of worship, a jealousy for my life to be only His. True holiness, I think, has God as its source and object; perfectionism has myself as its source and object. You could say my behavior now emerges (Yes, through self-discipline) from a genuine love for God, rather than a feverish clawing for His acceptance.

This means that when I messed up…snapping at someone, say, one of my coworkers...I don’t have to be devastated because I acted like a “bad team player”, or because I behaved in a way inconsistent with my good character. If my mouth speaks out of the overflow of my heart (Matthew 12:34), I need to acknowledge what I did, repent and confess to my coworker without trying to blame-shift or deny or justify my tactless speech. I can ask her forgiveness. Then, I can sleep at night knowing that God’s changing me from the inside out. And my worth still remains super-glued to Jesus’ verdict of me in God’s courtroom.

Honestly, His performance is a lot more reliable than mine. My ability to achieve seems to melt away in the presence of that kind of perfection. Ultimately, I’m less and less focused on me and my rather sketchy performance. Holiness is, in fact, an utter reliance on performance…on perfection. Just “not” mine. So stop being perfect and start being holy.