Redefining Worship

 

 

So much talk about worship:

Its glamour and its glitz

With music, dance and smoke

Reminiscent of a blitz.

 

A cacophony of noise

With bold instrumentation

Often outstripping human voices

In their exultation.

 

A lyrical expression

Of words apt and in place

Often bypassing heart and spirit

With emotions laced.

 

A dance of adoration

Perhaps like David of old

But choreographing a select song

With movements bold.

 

A brisk song or slow,

Of a hymn or psalmody

Bursting with acute excitement

Or with staid solemnity.

 

 

Of myriad emotions

From tearful expression

To groanings and mutterings

Akin to contrition.

 

All these and more

Are expressions of worship

Conjured by modern worshippers

Appearing rather slick.

 

A professional rendering

Of wind, percussion and strings

And voices tuned in harmony

To modern worship brings.

 

Rehearsal acutely evident

To present the correct mix

But what effect does it have, I ask,

On the spiritually sick?

 

 

Of a worship leader

Complimented by a team

Showing off for close to an hour

At least, that’s as it seems.

 

Setting the tone, they say,

For the sermon to come

Often, an hour of vain rhetoric:

Substance little or none.

 

Extrabiblical worship

Thus, not based in the Word

But exciting so-called worshippers

To be emotionally absurd.

 

Redefine the redefinition

That is now commonplace

And study Genesis chapter 22

To get a correct trace.

 

I and the lad, Abraham said,

Will go yonder and worship,

Minus keyboard, drums and guitar;

Just a gathering of sticks.

 

 

 

Sacrifice was the intention,

Total sacrifice, in fact,

His son, his only son he loved,

Not Ishmael but Isaac.

 

Worship is a giving over;

It is giving all to Christ,

A personal enactment, therefore,

Of Jesus’ sacrifice.

 

Crucified with Jesus Christ

To daily follow after him,

A resurrection, in actual fact,

No longer dead in sin.

 

In spirit and in truth

Is at the heart of worship;

Go to John chapter 4 verse 24

And never let this slip.

 

Our heart, his throne

And our will his own,

Looking forward to knowing him

As also we are known.

 

Those first five verses

Of Genesis chapter 22

Detail for me what worship is;

I trust they do for you.

 

Stewart Russell © October 20, 2024

 

Ant-ology

 

 

I am into ant-ology

It’s nothing I enjoy

But having come face-to-face with ants,

I was instantly employed.

 

And I mean face to face

Since that is where they often are,

As the saying goes, “in your face”

Like drunkards in a bar.

 

They must be wind borne

For suddenly they are on your face,

In truth you do not see them

But their smell is easy to trace.

 

It’s an interesting smell

Like no other that I know,

Their smell is big, my friend,

But there is little else to show.

 

They are so very tiny

That they can be difficult to spot

Except it’s a white background,

Then you will see a moving dot.

 

I wonder, do they have a heart?

Do they breathe like we do?

Do they have an alimentary canal

And chew like me and you?

If the adults are so small

What is the size of their young?

Do they come with all the parts

Or only as they become strong?

 

I have stepped upon an ant

And it actually survived,

I was so mad that I crushed it

Then I knew for a fact it died.

 

As small as they are,

They can deliver a painful bite,

You may argue it’s a sting

And perhaps, you may be right.

 

It really doesn’t matter

Whether It’s a sting or bite,

It’s the pain that I experience

Morning, noon and night.

 

Tell me, do ants ever sleep?

And how can one tell?

Could they also have broken a leg

At any of the times they fell?

 

Or, can they fall at all,

Considering they are so light?

I guess gravity only affects them

If they’re below a certain height.

 

Well, so much for my ant-ology

It’s late so I must be gone,

If you want to know a little more

Apply for Ant-ology 101.

It must be no later than…

 Before or after the last bite,

Please also come with the evidence

The ant also has a right.

 

During the time I was typing

I was bitten no less than thrice,

You would think that by now they would know

That to bite is total sacrifice.

 

Stewart Russell © June 2020