Hear Ye Him!

 

 

A tumult of voices

My eardrums abuse,

All saying something different

I am so confused.

 

In the morning

When I awake

And also, in the nighttime,

Sometimes very late.

 

A perplexing sound

And increasingly so

Such that I don’t even know

What I think I know.

 

Real is not real

Only just imagined

And what I thought stable

Is become confusing.

 

Every voice I hear

Has a ring of truth

With each of its advocates

Bringing proof.

 

Undeniable proof

And thus, convincing,

But so different in substance

It’s not worth comparing.

 

A tumult of voices

My eardrums abuse,

All saying something different

I am so confused.

 

Alas, I screamed

Tell me what can I do

To nobody in particular,

Not even you.

 

The voices returned

Not one or two

And though in great abundance

Still, I’ve not a clue. 

 

Hands thrown up

I started to despair

When out of the tumult

Something pierced my ear.

 

Clear and distinct

Though not as loud,

Yet it rose above the crescendo

Of the noisy crowd.

 

In a whispered tone

I distinctly heard

What I’ve come to understand

Was God’s Word.

 

“Hear ye him!”

Was what I heard

And I knew God was referring

To His Holy Word.

 

His Son He sent

And His Son that died,

His Son they had abused

And had crucified.

 

His Son they buried

And that rose again,

His Son who on my heart’s throne

Wanted to reign.

 

 

Those voices receded

When I said yes

And with them I must also add,

So too, my distress.

 

If my experience

Is your experience

Then hear ye him, I bid you,

This very instance.

 

Stewart Russell © December 31, 2024

 

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