Ends of Divine Worship

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, Cal. · Jun 18, 1885

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 11, No. 24.

Ends of Divine Worship.

Worship as an elementary part of the services of the sanctuary needs no new vindication.

Worship is, first of all, elementary, since by nothing else can the human creature come into a normal and thence a fit relation to the divine Creator. His word teaches that "whoso offereth praise," that is, worshiping homage, "glorifies" God. Such praise as this brings and places man in his truest attitude toward the Being who made him, and who in voice and aspiration and reverence has fashioned him for the service of devout song. Hence it is that the earliest annals of mankind, whether made known in the Bible or elsewhere, fail not to make due note of the vocalization of music. The birds of the air sing as if in some note of articulate praise, and man sings under an inborn impulsion, all in a suggestive sense,—

“Hymning the praise of their great Creator.”

Who will question that he who "formed the eye," and who formed the ear and the voice as well, who gave this inbred susceptibility for uplifting praise, designed in all that man the creature should adore and worship God the Creator.

It is, accordingly, that we find in the earlier Hebrew history, as in the case notably of Miriam, and Deborah, the prominence placed upon sacred song; as later on we find the same thing more minutely and elaborately formulated in the imposing musical ritual established by the psalmist-king in Jerusalem. The timbrel of Miriam, under this growth of the service of song, was supplemented by the harp, by an instrument of ten strings, by high-sounding cymbals, by the organ, that added to thousands of chorus voices, the challenge could be made loudly vocal and emphatic which calls on everything that hath breath to praise the Lord.

And the progressive growth of the Hebrew ritual in respect to divine worship, we note, has marked and marvelous extension under the Christian dispensation, so as to become, like its other institutes and appointments, all-comprehending and pervasive. So at the memorial supper, at which our Lord was the first administrator, it is tenderly recorded as its fitting close, "they sung a hymn and went out." So among other teachings addressed to the Christians of Ephesus, it is enjoined, "Speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord; giving thanks always for all things unto God and the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ."

The history of Christianity from its primitive age down to the present has not failed to record the prominence which the worship of God, especially in his sanctuary, asserts for itself. Within the current century, in an especial manner, has public religious worship, so called, along with a wonderful musical renaissance, witnessed a remarkable development. Whether all such development in the churches, especially in metropolitan and city churches, has been along the truest lines, admits of more than question.

Not a few of the more mature and thoughtful among us have been led increasingly, for years gone by, to raise the query whether, right here, there has not crept into too many Christian congregations a spirit of rampant, worldly conformity; whether the true and gracious ends of divine worship of "Father, Son, and Holy Ghost" are not in some cases, at least, so far obscured as to become lost sight of; whether there has not come to be the spectacular in voice and artistic execution, in what should be the most tender, the most uplifting, and the most helpful of the services of public worship, rather than performances suited to other places and to other occasions than the worship of the Most High in his "holy temple."

It recently fell to our lot to be present in a prominent church sanctuary in a New England city not far distant from Boston. While all the exercises (excepting the music), including a truly grand sermon, were impressive, nearly, if not quite, one-third of this morning service was a performance—doubtless deemed artistic—yet in quite an "unknown tongue," with hardly a sentence or word so articulated as to be understood.

All that was gained from almost half an hour so given up to such a vocal exercise might have been gotten at any concert or operatic or other like occasion—anywhere else, too, than "in the courts of the Lord's house." We heard of the shrewd comment, not long ago, of a prominent gentleman contributing largely and liberally toward public worship in general, "We have to endure such music as this, and then pay for it besides!"

The case above referred to is not by any means anomalous. Who has not gone to the house of God, too often to find in the initial service of song—the opening hymn, and one that especially should quicken and uplift the mind and the heart of the worshiper—not one thing that was helpful to the ends of true praise, but the very contrary instead?

Yet for such a performance, misnamed worship, there is liberal outlay of money made—even as in some churches, more or less missionary in their support, the outlay reaches, it is said, half, or much more than half, the no more than adequate salary given to the pastor! We beg to submit the inquiry whether the decay rather than the increase of spirituality in sundry churches may not be traced to the secular inroad here described? It would seem plain enough that such spirituality, truly exemplified, can never have taken away from it a true and a helpful worship.—The Watchman.