On worship and fog machines

I was surprised when a young friend told me the other day that most of his friends attended churches that use fog machines. So clearly it’s a trend.

I admit I have never been in a church service where a fog machine was used. So maybe I’m not qualified to speak on the subject. But I’m going to anyway.

I have always felt that we need to cater our music to the generations that are closer to birth than to death. That would be the people who are actually going to be alive when I am dead. They are the church’s future.

But when it comes to worship, let’s make a difference between what really matters and what doesn’t. What matters, for instance, are the words we sing. They say a lot about what we believe. There was a reason the Scots sang the Psalms, and only the Psalms. There was no doubt about the content.

So I ask the question: should not the songs we sing be every bit as rooted and grounded in Scripture as the teaching we hear?

I could make a sad joke about being in churches where most of the fog emanated from the pulpit, but for the moment I assume that most of us are in churches where the teaching is decent and Biblically grounded.

One thing I’ve noticed is that most of the arguments over worship are not about the lyrics but about the music. Music, for the most part, is a matter of taste. Taste is what changes, and that’s where we have to cater to the younger half of the congregation if we want a church capable of reaching the next generation.

And is this is a source of frustration to me. We argue over the things that matter far less -- we argue over style of music, how loud the music is, what kind of instruments we should allow, and so on. But we pass over the far more significant issue of what it is we are actually singing.

The Scots used to sing without accompaniment. There were loads of arguments over scandalous things like using an organ in worship. When I was a young Christian, people left churches when somebody dared to appear on the platform with a guitar. Never mind that the church was filling up with young people and the songs we were singing were largely Scripture put to music.

So where does that leave us with fog machines?

I admit I’m not a fan. For one thing, they seem to be a poor substitute for the cloud that filled Solomon’s temple. But let’s face it, they are part of the periphery, not part of the core.

What is a real problem is if the fog machines represent an attempt to dumb down worship and to make its focus more on making people feel a particular atmosphere rather than leading those people into glorifying the one true God.

Having said that, I would rather be in a congregation with a fog machine singing songs with Biblical lyrics and glorifying God than in a congregation with neither a fog machine nor any sense of what true worship is supposed to be.

At its root, worship is clearly defined by Paul: “Present yourselves as a sacrifice, living, holy and acceptable to God, which is worship, properly understood.” That is my translation of Romans 12:1, and it’s backed by some pretty good scholars.

If you have the foundation right, you’ll get the rest of it as well, with or without a fog machine.

But I’d still like to witness that manifest glory that Solomon saw…

What happens when the preaching dies?

In church circles I move in, we talk all the time about Word and Spirit. And I often wonder whether we really know what we are talking about. Has it become just a phrase without a lot of meaning?

The first problem is this. Why are Word and Spirit presented as two separate entities? Think about it for a minute.

We talk about having Word and Spirit churches as if we’ve achieved a wonderful situation where we have the best of all possible worlds.

But why then, I ask, is the preaching in many churches so unsatisfying?

It’s probably because we’ve separated the Word and the Spirit.

Let me explain.

In his commentary on 2 Corinthians 3, John Calvin made the point that nobody can understand the Word of God without a revelation of the Spirit of God.

Do preachers cry out to God for a revelation of the Holy Spirit every time they prepare a Biblical exposition? Does the Holy Spirit fill their hearts and minds with divine illumination as they study the text? Does he give them ways to make the Biblical text powerfully applicable to the people to whom they are speaking? Do they preach with fire in their belly? Do they so pour themselves out they feel drained at the end?

Or are they just giving nice talks and with minimal effort and preparation?

And think about this one thought. How many preachers believe for a divine and supernatural moving of the Holy Spirit as they are preaching?

Charismatics are great at believing God to move during a great time of worship, or as people come forward for ministry or prayer afterwards.

But they are lousy at believing God to move as they preach.

Part of the reason is because they fail to put the high value on the preaching of the Word that God says we should. They fail to prepare adequately. They think 15 or 20 minutes of seeker-sensitive superficiality is enough for God to say what he wants.

And then they say they believe in Word and Spirit churches.

No.

Not good enough.

Listen to what Paul says: We are stewards of the mysteries of God.

And listen again: the job of the preacher is to bring to light for everyone what is the plan of the mystery hidden for ages in God.

And how is this mystery made known? By the Spirit.

Read 2 Corinthians 4 and Ephesians 3 right though and ask God for understanding.

So what do I get out of all this?

Very simply this: that the Word of God is a mystery which can only be made clear by a revelation of the Spirit which comes to the preacher and then comes to the people through his preaching of the Word.

We need churches where the Holy Spirit invades the heart of the preachers and teachers, pours revelatory understanding of the Word into them, and makes the Word a sword so powerful it does the job it was designed to do and cuts to the very heart of those listening, convicting and encouraging and changing them as they listen.

Preaching is not meant to be an academic lecture. Nor is it meant to be a collection of nice thoughts. And it is certainly not meant to be a brief afterthought to worship.

Preaching grasps a weapon so powerful that it may hurt you if you misuse it. Preaching is taking hold of divine fire. But first that fire must consume the heart of the preacher.

When that begins to happen, we will have the kind of reformation Calvin saw, where the Word, set on fire by the Spirit, changed the course of history.

Let’s believe God for churches where the Spirit of God, through imperfect earthen vessels, uses the Word of God to accomplish the purposes of God.

And that is where the fire will fall.

A city on a hill

Not only are we salt, according to Jesus (see our last blog), we are light. Again (as it was when Jesus talked about salt) the construction in the Greek is emphatic: “You, you alone and no others are the light of the world!” This should be no surprise, because Jesus said of Himself: “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12), and here He teaches us that we are meant to reflect this light in our own lives. Paul wrote that we are to “become … children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe…” (Phil. 2:15), and that God has “shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.” (2 Cor. 4:6). The next thing Jesus says is this: “A city set on a hill cannot be hidden.” This statement seems to give a practical application or consequence to His declaration that we are the light of the world. What does Jesus mean by describing the church as a “city on a hill”?

Clearly, it has something to do with visibility, and again a knowledge of the historical context comes in handy. In the Israel of Jesus’ day, houses were often built of white limestone. As such, they would gleam in the sun and could scarcely be hidden, particularly if set on a hill. At night, the light of hundreds or thousands of oil lamps would cast a glow over the hillside. Even as you would not build a city on a hill and try to hide it, neither would you light a lamp and set it under a bowl, verse 15 continues. A lamp is put on a lampstand to give light to everyone, and the church is set on a hill for the same purpose. Jesus was almost certainly thinking about the Old Testament prophecies concerning Jerusalem as a city of light lifted up before the nations who would come to it: “In the last days the mountain of the Lord’s temple will be established as chief among the mountains; it will be raised above the hills, and all nations will stream to it” (Is. 2:2). “Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord rises upon you. See, darkness covers the earth and thick darkness the peoples, but the Lord rises upon you and His glory appears over you. Nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn” (Is. 60:1-3).

Jesus is reminding us that the church has taken the place of Jerusalem as the city of God in the same way that believers of Christ from every nation, Jew and Gentile alike, have taken the place of Israel as His covenant people. In the same way as a city on a hill gives out its light, day and night, God’s city will shine eternally: “The sun will no more be your light by day, nor will the brightness of the moon shine upon you, for the Lord will be your everlasting light, and your God will be your glory” (Is. 60:19). Jesus now commands us in verse 16 to let our light shine before the world, that everyone may see our good deeds and glorify God. The church is the most powerful solar energy device ever made. We are designed and created to take the light of the universe and reflect it into the world around us, imparting the energy by which that universe was created and by which Jesus Christ was raised from the dead. Without us, the people and nations around us will descend into darkness. This incredible power and responsibility is ours.

Salt of the Earth

“You yourselves and no other are the salt of the earth”. This is the best translation of Jesus’ words in Matthew 5:13. Jesus envisions a role for us no one else can fulfill. If we are not prepared to be the salt of the earth, no one else will be. It is no use looking to governments, scientists, philosophers or military figures to save civilization – only the church of the living God can rise to the task. If the church fails, there is no Plan B. Jesus does not envision a world where humanists and people of various religions will join forces to establish peace and harmony. Jesus was so “narrow-minded” as to insist that only His followers, empowered by His Spirit, would be able to do the job. The most common use for salt in the ancient world, in places with a hot climate and no refrigeration, was as a preservative. A small amount of salt rubbed into meat would slow its decay. Clear enough – we are to be a preservative. But how could Jesus speak of salt losing its saltiness? Anyone who has taken high school chemistry knows that salt, sodium chloride, is what chemists call a stable compound. In other words, it does not decay or become diluted over time. Was Jesus a poor scientist? The answer is found in the fact that in the ancient world salt, rather than being mined or produced as the product of evaporation from salt water, was found in salt marshes. It therefore contained many impurities. Because the salt itself was more soluble than the impurities, it could wind up being drained or leached out in the process of being transported, stored or used, thereby leaving most of the impurities but only a little of the pure salt. The residue was so diluted it was of little worth for preserving purposes. This was described as salt which had lost its saltiness.

Jesus then states that such salt is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled by men. According to scholars, salt that had lost its saltiness was used for a specific purpose in the ancient near east. It was scattered on the soil which covered the flat roofs of houses. The nature of its chemical composition was such as to harden the soil and prevent leaks in the roof. In those times, roofs were used as playgrounds for children or as meeting places for adults (much as we use patios or decks). Consequently, they were continually being trodden under foot, and this process was used, along with the sprinkling of diluted salt, to keep the roofs hard and leak-proof. What is tasteless salt good for?  Only to be thrown out (or cast around) and trodden under foot. That was the only practical use it had left.

The message is clear. In order to be the moral disinfectant, the agent of health and wholeness in a world of decay and death, Christians must retain the full strength of what Jesus has put within them. When we come to Christ, we are given the potential of living with Christ’s nature and the ability that comes with that to affect the world around us. But along with it, we also carry the baggage of our fallen human nature. As we take the purity of what God has given us in Christ and carry it through this fallen world, we are continually confronted with the possibility of compromise, of letting our standards fall, of choosing to live with one foot in the kingdom and one foot out of it. If this takes place, the purity and strength of what we have in Christ will gradually be leached away, and all we will be left with is a pale copy of the real original. There must be no compromise with worldly standards, no letting down of our guard.

Otherwise, we will find ourselves thrown out of God’s purposes and trodden underfoot by the men, in such a way that, through our hypocrisy or inability to live up to the message we proclaim, we wind up contributing to the hardening of their hearts against God.

The church's future

1 John 2:14: “I have written to you, fathers, because you know Him from has been from the beginning. I am writing to you, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God abides in you, and you have overcome the evil one.” John says here that the strength of young men is in the Word of God and in their ability to overcome the enemy. This is an interesting statement. We tend to think that it would take as many years to come to know God’s Word and to have spiritual power to overcome the enemy as it would to gain the type of knowledge of God possessed only by the fathers who, John says, “know Him who has been from the beginning”. Yet such is not the case. It is true that some levels of understanding God’s Word take years to reach. But the problem lies in our over-emphasis on intellectual knowledge.

While it make take years of advanced training to understand certain aspects of Scripture, or to be able to get up and teach the church about it, most of the Bible is pretty simple. Anyone can gain a sufficient grasp of it quickly enough to use it. A brand-new convert with only a small understanding of the Word can use it against the enemy to devastating effect. By the same token, an unbelieving or liberal-minded professor of theology may have accumulated a lifetime of facts about the Bible – many of them erroneous –  but in truth understands it less than the new convert on fire for God. There is something in the spirit of a young man which takes the Bible as a sword and jumps at the chance of using it in battle. That’s what he’s talking about here.

The same thing is true for the second part of the statement. Young men are destined by God to overcome the enemy. You don’t have to have known God for years to enter into battle and triumph. After all, the armed forces usually recruit men under 25, not over 50! There is a raw strength of faith in young men which can be harnessed to achieve great things.

Satan’s strategy, therefore, is to neutralize the strength of the young men. The young men are the future fathers and leaders, and if he destroys them now, he destroys the future of the church. That’s why the fathers (who know God and equally know the enemy and his ways), are charged with safeguarding the young men and helping them to achieve their destiny. The generals, through their years of experience, know their enemy, know his tactics, and know the way to win. But it is the soldiers who will fight the battle. The job of the generals (like the fathers in the church) is to release the young men in such a way that their strength is employed most effectively.

All this leads us to ask the question: how many churches are making the raising up of young men their overriding pastoral focus? Food for thought!