For the last five weeks we’ve gathered on Sundays to look at specifically at the nature of our corporate worship. We’ve preached on each “element” of our gathering individually in an effort to answer two questions: What is the worship of the church? and How does worship form us?

Benediction: God’s “Good Word” To Us

On this fifth and final Sunday we looked at God’s intentions for our future as expressed in the time of “benediction” or “commissioning.” While we often ignore the bene-diction (good word) because we’re beginning to plan for dinner near the end of our service, it remains an integral element of our gathering. In the benediction, God reminds us that we have been blessed and thus have the responsibility to bless others. We have been redeemed and thus ought to live redemptively. But what does the blessing entail?

Psalm 67 reveals three truths about God’s “good word” to us:

• A Promise: The benediction acts as a reminder that God looks at you and says, “you’re good” and “I keep you.” This same God promises to “make his face shine upon [you]” (v. 1). In so doing God is offering you his undivided attention, just as close friends do during important conversations. Additionally, God promises to put his name on you, claiming you as his own: “And they shall be my people, and I will be their God” (Jeremiah 32:38). He has promised to bless us.

• A Purpose: Verses 2-4 remind us that while God has undoubtedly been gracious to us individually, he has ultimately done so for his own fame – in order that his glory might be known and proclaimed amongst the nations. God established this rhythm in Genesis when he initiated relationships with Adam and Noah and Abraham. He certainly blessed each of them, but not without a look to the future growth of his kingdom and renown (Genesis 1:28; 9:1; 12:1-3). Although God is sovereign and always working for his own renown he has commissioned us to be his ambassadors. Thus, we are to represent him faithfully, living “on purpose” by imaging his character and attributes in our speech, in our lives, and in our churches.

• A Payment: In his blessing and benediction, God not only reveals his promises to us but also his purposes behind the promises. What great delight comes from knowing the promises and purposes of God! Yet our delight cost God dearly. In fact, the payment was God’s own son: the Father has “sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins” (1 John 4:10). Put simply, Christ’s blood payment expands the availability of the blessing once meant only for Abraham and his Jewish descendants. And, by faith, the blessing comes to those who once had “no hope and [were] without God in the world” (Galatians 3:14; Ephesians 2:12). God can say “you’re good” to us because Jesus’ perfect “goodness” is credited to us.

God has blessed us. Therefore, we gather regularly in corporate worship to remember and to celebrate God’s abundant blessing. And as our gathering ends we recommit ourselves to God, pledging to take his blessing with us so that one day the Psalmist’s refrain might ring true:

“Let the peoples praise you, O God; let all the peoples praise you!” (Psalm 67:3, 5)

A time of “consecration” follows a time of “confession and cleansing” in our liturgy. Again, this is not an accident. In the “call to worship” God moves towards us and begins his process of renewal. When we “confess,” God continues this process by tearing us from our old ways and preparing us for new life in Christ. New life comes primarily through God’s word. For this reason, we continue to gather to hear God speak, allowing him to “consecrate” us through the reading and preaching of his word.

Consecration

Put simply, ‘consecrate’ means to set apart as holy or to make sacred. As humans, we have been “set apart” since creation. God bestowed his blessing on us and gave dominion to us (Genesis 1:28). In the institution of the new covenant God continued his process of consecration, making all who believe in Jesus into priests of God (1 Peter 2:9). As such, believers are to be set apart, solely devoted to the service and worship of God.

God’s word reminds us that we have been set apart, and it continues to fuel our devotion, service, and worship. To make this clear we’ll take a brief look at Psalm 19 as it: (1) captures the nature of the word; (2) reveals the effects of the word; and (3) instructs us how to respond to the word.

First, the nature of the word

Central to the nature of the word is David’s claim that the word is filled with life – it “[revives] the soul” (v. 7). David continues by proclaiming that the word is ‘perfect,’ ‘sure,’ ‘right,’ ‘pure,’ ‘clean,’ and ‘true’ (v. 7-9). Without unpacking each of these, it is clear that the word is immensely valuable.

The word’s “immense value” comes to the fore in the Psalm’s juxtaposition of the ‘world’ and the ‘word’. The world plainly reveals the magnificence of God and, using our senses, we’re able to discern that God is great and powerful (Romans 1:20). Ultimately, however, this Psalm points beyond the created world. While the world offers information it cannot bring transformation. It cannot give us what our heart ultimately needs; it cannot restore the soul.

Second, the effects of the word

We know from verse 7 that the word is effectual in our lives. Its “information” affects us, causing real-life “transformation.” The word reshapes us into who God wants us to be; telling us how we are to relate to God, what he requires of us, and what it means to please him. In this sense God’s word gives us a new purpose.

In addition to giving us a new purpose, God’s word gives us a new identity. God has spoken into our lives through His word and revealed to us who we are:

But now, thus says the Lord, your Creator … and He who formed you, … Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine! … I am the Lord your God, The Holy One of Israel, your Savior … you are precious in my sight, you are honored and I love you. I will give men in your place and peoples in exchange for your life. (Isaiah 43:1-4)

The word of God is effectual in our lives in that it gives us a new purpose and a new identity. And it is God himself who works these effects out on our behalf; indeed, even now he guards our salvation that is “ready to be revealed in the last time” (1 Peter 1:5). Until then we live by faith in the things that are revealed in the Bible, trusting in the revealed word of our covenant God to change us.

Third, our response to the word

Clearly, the word is filled with life and paves the way for God giving us new purpose and new identity in Christ. In Christ, God offers to change us. We must, however, still receive him and obey the very word that bears witness about him. But how do we receive him? And how do we respond to what God offers to us in Christ?

The end of Psalm 19 helps us see the ways in which we ought to receive Christ and rightly respond to his word: “Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer” (v. 14). These practical instructions teach that a right response to the word of God entails both a receiving and a responding. Practically, ‘receiving’ means ‘hearing’ – taking it in deeply – into the very “meditation of [our] heart” (v. 14). Practically, ‘responding’ means ‘doing’ – living it out – “let the words of [our] mouth…be acceptable in [God’s] sight” (v. 14). Doing one without the other results in what James calls “worthless religion” (James 1:26).

Worthless Religion and the True Word

I’m assuming these words ring true for all of us, as we have surely found ourselves ‘hearing’ but not ‘doing’, or vice versa. In this way we “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). If this were the end of our story we’d all be guilty of practicing worthless religion, and we’d be justly deserving of the wages of sin, which is death (Romans 6:23). But this is not the end.

Instead, Christ Jesus entered our story so “that he might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith” (Romans 3:26). It is in Jesus, the Word made flesh, giving himself over to death in exchange for our lives that the promise of Isaiah 43 was ultimately fulfilled. And it is only by faith in this true Word that we are made righteous as he alone makes good on the debt we owe for practicing worthless religion. Now draw near and hear God’s consecrating word – for “faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ” (Romans 10:17).

More specifically, we looked at God’s movement towards us as expressed in the church’s “call to worship.” Now we’ll look at what Jeffrey Meyers has described as God’s “separation of some portion of the old ‘material’ so that it can be formed into something new.” This process is expressed in our corporate time of “confession and cleansing.”

Confession and Cleansing

Liturgically, confession and cleansing follow the “call to worship.” This is not an accident. In the call to worship, God demonstrates his love for us by “taking hold” and drawing near. God has moved into our presence; and now, he patiently awaits our response (2 Peter 3:9; 1 Timothy 2:4). Indeed, as the old hymn reminds us:

Poor bankrupt souls, who feel and know the hell of sin within,
Come boldly to the throne of grace; the Lord will take you in.

God’s initiatory nature is just one reminder of the considerable differences between ‘us’ as creature and ‘God’ as creator. On the whole, these differences form what Meyers calls a “proper hierarchy” – one in which “Yahweh is God and Lord, [and] man is a dependent creature under Yahweh and answerable to Him” (The Lord’s Service emphasis added).

Positionally, then, God is clearly “above” man. Yet, in his grace, God takes action, inaugurating a “process” during which old “material” gives way to the new. This is the process of confession of cleansing. But what exactly is ‘confession’? Do we simply get things “off our chests,” or is there something else to it? And finally, what is ‘cleansing’?

The Joy of Restored Fellowship

Psalm 32 offers insight into these questions through King David’s claim that true confession means restoring the joy of fellowship, specifically with God. Psalm 32 consists of three sections, each ultimately given to instruct us in confession and remind us of God’s corresponding promise of cleansing.

First, David makes a claim

David begins by describing those whose sins are forgiven as “blessed” (vv. 1-2). ‘Blessedness’ here means sharing in the deep sense of fulfillment and security that only comes from God. This might seem like an easy claim to make, but it is important to remember that David had many possessions, much wealth, and extraordinary power. Yet his life experience led him to say, “Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered” (v. 1).

At some level I think we all agree and know that we are broken and in need of forgiveness. Perhaps you’ve chosen to busy yourself by searching for a deep sense of fulfillment and security, but it continues to elude you. Or maybe you’re looking for an outlet to share your wounds and secrets. If not, perhaps you at least resonate with what The Avett Brothers so aptly describe as “the weight of lies” that bring you down – you know ­– those universal feelings of guilt, shame, and despair that seem to “follow you to every town” and “chase [you] anywhere.” David’s claim is that – regardless of circumstances and position – the truly blessed person is the one who is forgiven.

Second, David shares a story

David’s story here is fairly simple: he is remembering his own sin and how, for a season, he chose to ignore it. He recounts that time as one of physical, emotional, psychological, and spiritual suffering, telling us that “when [he] kept silent, [his] bones wasted away” (v. 3). He groaned constantly under the weight of God’s heavy hand while his physical strength and prayer life “dried up as by the heat of summer” (v. 4). Clearly, David’s silence affected him deeply.

Silence affects us deeply, too. Although we act like keeping quiet is best, we know that’s a lie. After all, the power of guilt is real. It weighs us down, often manifesting itself in our blaming, rationalizing, and criticizing. But instead of confessing our sin and receiving forgiveness, we choose to hold on to our guilt. Like David, we try to bury it. But we can’t.

Third, David offers instruction

Put simply, David instructs us to “confess our sin.” To paraphrase his counsel: First, acknowledge your sin and recognize your inability to atone for it alone. Then, confess your sin to the Lord and he will forgive you (v. 5).

You might be wondering when you ought to confess your sin. In verse 6, David gives an answer – “let everyone who is godly offer prayer to you at a time when you may be found.” Now is clearly the time. Turn to God and experience the blessing of forgiveness.

Complete and total joy is found only in fellowship with God “the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ” (1 John 1:4). Psalm 32 reminds us that, as sinners, we cannot enter into this fellowship unless our transgressions are forgiven. But for those who would draw near and confess, “he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1: 9). That is the blessed life.

Sunday’s gathering kicked off a new preaching/teaching series on the specific nature of our corporate worship at Providence. On the whole, the series aims to ask and answer two main questions. First, what is the worship of the church? And second, how does worship form us?

What is the worship of the church?

In essence, the worship of the church is a “covenant renewal event” in which God’s people gather corporately to remember the ways in which God relates to them. As such, it ought to reflect the objective form, shape, and structure of God’s covenant with man. Jeffrey Meyers, in his book The Lord’s Service, has helped articulate five aspects of God’s covenant with man that consistently take this objective form: (1) God takes hold; (2) God separates and makes something new; (3) God speaks; (4) God grants ritual signs and seals; and (5) God arranges for the future. This objective form is reflected in the structure of our gathering.

Sunday’s sermon introduced Meyers’ first aspect – “God takes hold.” God’s “taking hold” came explicitly to life “in the beginning” (i.e., in the context of creation), where God first manifested his sovereign control, giving design and purpose to that which was originally “without form and void” (Genesis 1:1-2). After creating, God moved towards that which he had created, purposing to form something new, in his image – even out of dust from the ground (Genesis 2:4-24). God’s movement towards us invites a response.

How does worship form us?

Worship starts to form us as soon as we begin to participate in it. Indeed, when the body gathers corporately, God begins shaping the individuals in that body. Thus, new forms and shapes emerge because, to borrow James K. A. Smith, “[corporate, liturgical worship] is a holistic endeavor that involves the whole person, including our bodies, in a process of formation that aims our desires, primes our imagination, and orients us to the world” (James K. A. Smith, Desiring the Kingdom, 39). In other words, form matters because form forms us.

Called to Worship

God’s immediate movement towards that which he created reveals, I think, something about his nature and character. After all, we do not worship a deistic God: God did not create and then abandon his creation. Instead, we worship an initiatory God: God created, drew near, and called creation into his presence. This continues today, and is clearly reflected in the church’s “call to worship.”

Fundamentally, then, worship is a response. We worship because God calls us to worship. He has initiated; we respond. Psalm 100 presents a beautiful invitation to worship, revealing that:

• God has called us together to worship with joy, gladness, and spirited singing (vv. 1-2).
• God created us and invites us into a special, covenant relationship (v. 3).
• God desires that we enter his presence with great anticipation, thanksgiving and praise (v. 4).
• God is good and has entered into a covenant relationship with us grounded in a steadfast love that endures forever (v. 5).

At this point, you might be wondering why the holy God of creation even bothers to invite broken creation into his presence. Or maybe you’re wondering how it is even possible. Admittedly, this mystery makes little sense up close. When we zoom out, however, we begin to see how God’s movement towards broken creation reveals his incomprehensible heart for the renewal of all things – especially his covenant people – despite our active rebellion and passive indifference.

And this, brothers and sisters, is the gospel: God has established a special covenant relationship with us, grounded in his steadfast love, which endures forever. Within this covenant are promises to us that God has obligated himself to keep. But how can we know he will keep them? We look to Jesus, in whom Paul says all the promises of God find their “Yes” (2 Corinthians 1:20). John drives this home, reminding us that on the cross God moved toward us in extraordinary love:

In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins (1 John 4:9-10).

Thus, it was primarily on the cross that God demonstrated his love for us, despite our initial and ongoing rebellion. Amazingly, God continues to demonstrate his love for us by “taking hold,” drawing near, and calling us to worship.

We are all inclined to this kind of behavior:

• We elevate the particular things we are good at to a place of prominence, as if Christianity was all about that thing (“This church doesn’t do enough [blank].”)
• We make our preferences and experiences prescriptive for everyone (“You HAVE to read this book! It is life-changing.”)
• We notice who seems to be really liked and valued and make them our measuring stick, in which case we either idolize or resent them.

In John Ortberg’s words, the problem with legalism is “pseudo-transformation.” It doesn’t produce genuine growth. He points us to Matthew 23, where Jesus dresses down the religious leaders of his day for their hypocrisy. This chapter gives us a good little list of warning signs in our own lives. I’ll just mention a few:

• HYPOCRISY (23:3): They are full of good advice that they do not live by.
• APPROVAL ADDICTION (23:5): They are more concerned with being seen as righteous by men than by God. In contrast, Jesus’ good deeds made Him unclean in the sight of men and righteous in the sight of God’s.
• JUDGMENTALISM (23:6-7): They want to be admired, but not approached. Their “holiness” pushed people away. In contrast, Jesus’ holiness attracted and drew people in.
• SINGLE-ISSUE CHRISTIANITY (23:23): They miss the forest for the trees. They take pride in exacting out their tight, but neglect justice, mercy, & faithfulness
• SHALLOW CHRISTIANITY (23:25-28): They settle for the appearance of righteousness, but inside they are unchanged – selfish and indulgent.

 Whenever you establish a means of righteousness that is based on your life, self-denial, and power instead of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, you are substituting works for faith. It is false religion. That is why Jesus says in verse 33: “You serpents, you brood of vipers, how are you to escape being sentenced to hell?”

I am not saying that if you are legalistic, you are the devil. I am saying that the system of legalism – the idea that we can earn God’s favor – is from the devil. Satan wants us to settle for a shallow Christianity that is devoid of the life and power of the Holy Spirit. He would love for us to settle for pseudo-transformation.

So you have to be honest with yourself: Are you measuring yourself in superficial ways? By what you know, by peripheral doctrines, by things you can do in your own strength? If so, we must repent of worshipping these false gods and turn to Jesus, who is our only source and hope of righteousness.

The common question among those observing Lent is, “What are you giving up for Lent?” Before you answer that, please know that giving up caffeine or TV – while probably good for you – is not the main point.

Giving up a habit or a food or a pleasure is not distinctly Christian. People give up things all the time in the name of self-help, or worse, vanity and vengeance. The point of Lent is not merely sacrifice, but also repentance. Our aim is to reorient life God-ward, and this reorientation has to do with desert and wilderness.

A “wilderness experience” in our language usually means one has been gone for a while and has returned with new insight or perspective … “a new lease on life.” People who have been to second or third world countries often speak of how different their viewpoint is now – how sickened they are by materialism and excess, how heavy their hearts are for the injustices of our world, and how lonely they are in a world of people who don’t see.

Or perhaps someone has been on a multi-day hike in the mountains, and something about the still mountain air jolted their footing in life. In either case, what happens is that people are stripped of their usual comforts, removed from the safety of familiarity, and are forced to see the world from a different vantage point (our lives are so small, which is nearly impossible to see from where we stand).

Something like a wilderness experience is our aim during the Lenten season. How far into the wilderness should we go?

• Far enough that when we reach for our usual comforts, and grasp a fistful of air, we are forced to cling to Christ – His body, His blood.
• Far enough that we begin to see just how upside down our world really is.
• Far enough to see that our “important things” are actually perishable goods, and that our “busy” lives simply lack wisdom.
• Far enough to see the layers of “self” beneath our “righteousness”.

I want a new lease on life, a view into the vast world of God, a deep breath and long look above the tree line of self-absorption. So in Lent we focus on getting away from the life of flesh and into the life of the Spirit, denying our ways and embracing God’s. I intend to give up some things, not in a way that just makes me think more about those things (of how I miss them), but rather in a way that awakens me to how much I miss God and desire his life-giving Spirit. This means, of course, that Lent is not only about giving up things. It is also about adding things, God-things.

• Having given up junk food for a healthy diet, what will you do with the energy you gain?
• Having given up reading magazines, what will you read now?
• Having given up e-mail, to whom will you devote meaningful conversation?
• Having given up lunch, how will you rely on God for the strength of “food from heaven”?
• Having given up TV as a default activity, how will you use that time to cultivate quality family time?
• Having given up isolation, how will you immerse yourself in community?
• Having given up shopping, will you see those who need clothing in our city?
• Having sacrificed whatever form of selfishness you indulge, to whom will you pay attention now?

Lent is upon us. How are you going to reorient your life this season? What will you give up? What will you add? Don’t get trapped by legalism or guilt or ambitious self-righteousness. Just think about the stuff in your life that distracts and clutters and entangles you. What are the habits or things that lie at the heart of your consumer lifestyle? Forsake them for the sake of being consumed by the God-life.

Do you remember the Christian fad circa 2001? I do. All the “Christian kids” were wearing them. They weren’t like today’s trendy Silly Bandz. There were no fancy shapes or stretchable “fabrics”. Instead, kids wore simple bracelets — the letters WWJD stitched neatly into them, usually in white. Surely you remember them.

It seems like the aptly named “W.W.J.D.” bracelets had become the cultural mark of young Christians. After all, we seemingly bought into this vision: If only we can remind ourselves ‘What would Jesus do?’ in everyday situations we’ll conquer sin. Of course, that was shortsighted. Whenever we de-emphasize the death and resurrection of Jesus, we lose the very power of the gospel to change us.

For example, one day I wore many of my bracelets. On my way to school I remember acknowledging their presence on my wrists and thinking, “Today is going to be a great day because, as soon as I become aware of any urge to sin, I’m going to make a special effort to remind myself ‘What would Jesus do?’ But something odd happened. Even after asking that simple question I found myself sinning. And then I sinned again, and again.

Simply asking ‘What would Jesus do?’ didn’t solve my struggle with sin, even when I tried really hard. And that is just the point: Christianity isn’t simply about recognizing our sin and asking God to enable us to be more like Jesus. That’s part of it, but Christianity is more about recognizing our sin and then remembering that God did in Jesus what we never could. It’s about recognizing that we’re totally incapable of being enough “like Jesus” to merit God’s love and forgiveness.

Scottish theologian Sinclair Ferguson, in his book The Christian Life, says it like this:

The great mistake many of us make is to look only at our sin and failure, and then ask, a little despairingly, What can I do? But our need is not to do, it is first of all to understand what God has done; to see that what he has made us through his Son is a man or woman who has died with Christ to sin’s dominion and has been raised with Christ to newness of life (emphasis added).

These comments help clarify the biblical intent behind the incarnation: God didn’t come to earth in Jesus just so we’d have someone perfect to imitate. Instead, God came to earth in Jesus precisely because we can’t be the person we’re required to be. On our own, we cannot ever “do” what’s required because we all have sinned and fallen “short of the glory of God” (Rom 3:23).

Imitating Jesus’ human life is still our aim, however, “for God did not call us to be impure, but to live a holy life” (1 Thess 4:7 NIV). But we can’t expect perfection. If we do we’ll inevitably lose hope because we will never measure up. We will fail repeatedly and start thinking “something is wrong” or “isn’t working” and, in the end, we won’t be able to live with ourselves.

As Christians, however, we accept and believe by faith that life is less about “doing” and more about “what’s already been done.” We recognize that, in Jesus, God freed us from the burden of constantly having to ask ourselves whether we’re “doing” enough. Accordingly, we no longer “load life on our shoulders as we once did, hoping we [can] exercise enough control over people and situations to make things work out okay. Instead, we live with the peace of knowing that a God of wisdom, power, and grace has already written the final chapter of our story.” (Paul Tripp, Forever: Why You Can’t Live Without It)

Indeed, we are “dead to sin and alive to God” (Rom 6:11). Ferguson contends that Paul’s teaching here suggests “in effect, that even when we sin we do not separate ourselves from Christ. We may distance ourselves from a sense of his presence, but we remain one with him.” It’s this reality which truly motivates, says Paul, because in Christ our victory over sin has already been assured (1 Cor 15:57)!

Because our victory over sin is already assured we no longer ask ‘What would Jesus do?’ Instead, we ask, ‘What is Jesus doing?’ In asking this, we: (1) proclaim the gospel reality that God is currently at work in and for us (Gal 2:20; Rom 8:28); (2) move from a place of fear and complacency where we’re preoccupied with falling short of God’s glory to a place of assurance and hope where we’re able rest in the God who comes to seek and to save the lost (Rom 3:23; Lk 19:10); and (3) begin to see that it’s not so much our personal effort that transforms us into the image of Jesus, but rather life in the Spirit (2 Cor 3:17‐18).

So, let’s stop living in the paralyzing light of the fear of not measuring up to what Jesus would do, and instead start living in light of the hope we have because of what Jesus is doing, in us, right now! If we do, we’ll begin to enjoy the kind of life which ultimately produces the fruit that leads “to sanctification and its end, eternal life” (Rom 6:22).

This value makes us feel that “I” am the final authority on what I believe and do. It passes as inclusivism, but it is really just individualism. Far from promoting community, it promotes autonomy and surface relationships.

This value has shaped our view of church as well. Christians love concepts like “organic church,” and we say things like: “When I am with my friends serving people, that is church.” I continue to hear church leaders say that we need to stop talking about what we believe and start focusing on doing what we believe. Such sentiments reflect our individualistic desire to define church and spirituality on our own terms. When someone is confronted by a pastor with regard to his doctrine or conduct, he is likely to hear it as good advice from a respected friend, but not as admonishment from godly authority. His “right” is to proceed however he wants because the individual is the final authority.

So this is an important question for our day. What does it mean that the church guards the gospel? I’ll give you the big picture answer, and then four particulars.

The big picture: The church (locally) is a community of God’s people in a specific place who are lead by biblically qualified elders (1 Tim 1:3). That community, and especially the elders, is charged to teach sound doctrine and confront any different doctrine (1 Tim 1:3). By doing so, they guard the gospel by concerning themselves primarily with the redemptive plan of God that has to do with faith in Christ (1 Tim 1:4).

The particulars: I see four things from 1 Timothy 1:1-11 that are involved in guarding the gospel. Content, Conflict, Care, Correction.

Content

A “different doctrine” implies a standard from which to deviate. In this letter, we see an agreed upon, settled body of truth that has been passed down from the Apostles to their disciples and to the first churches. It is “the faith” … “sound doctrine” … “the deposit” … “the sound words of our Lord Jesus Christ and the teaching that accords with godliness” … “the glorious gospel of our blessed God”.

When a church emphasizes the implications of the gospel without understanding how they are related to the message of the gospel, she gets off track. People start to do things in the name of Jesus, but they cannot explain who Jesus is and what He has done, nor are they concerned to do so. Similarly, when a church does not define the gospel and establish its truth thoroughly, she loses it. As it has been said: one generation knows, the next assumes, and the third forgets. A church that loses the gospel ceases to be a distinctly Christian church.

If you know what the gospel does for you, but you do not know what the gospel is, then you are on a slippery slope that slides from gospel centrality to spiritual sentimentality.

Conflict

People will always disagree, but the real reason we have false teachers and conflict in the church is because there is a spiritual battle. Paul tells Timothy to “wage the good warfare” (1 Tim 1:18). Peter, in the context of telling elders to shepherd the flock, warns that our “adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Pet 5:8). Paul also says that false teachers have been “captured by the devil to do his will” (2 Tim 2:26).

Every gospel-preaching church will have conflict. There will be people in her midst who get sidetracked and lead people astray. We think it won’t happen to us because we can’t imagine anyone we know doing that. But can you imagine our adversary the devil doing that? He will come, and he will not make it obvious. False teachers do not usually set out to be false teachers. Often they do not even know they are false teachers. When they look in the mirror, they see a sheep too, but inwardly they are ravenous wolves (Matt 7:15).

Care

Guarding the gospel is about loving people and people loving God. Paul says, “The charge of our aim is love, which issues from a pure heart, a good conscience, and a sincere faith” (1 Tim 1:4). We fight for truth because we believe that it really does set people free. We defend and declare the gospel because we really do believe that it changes everything, that it saves us, heals us, and transforms our lives!

If you are strictly an intellectual and do not have the aim of love – that is, you just want to be right about what is true, but you do not have regard for what that truth means for people — then you are not much better than the false teachers because you have deviated from the aim of the gospel. On the other hand, if you don’t want to ruffle any feathers – you don’t want to confront anyone or say that something is true for everyone – then you need to see that your aim is not love, but comfort.

Correction

In Ephesus, the false teachers apparently flipped the indicatives and the imperatives of the gospel. They held up the moral law and drew people’s attention to it as the means of righteousness. It was a burdensome teaching, which is why Paul brought nuanced correction to the issue: “The law is good if one uses it lawfully” (1 Tim 1:8). The law and the gospel are both concerned with a righteous life. The former depicts it and thus condemns. The latter saves and then enables it.

When we say, “I don’t care about doctrine, I just want to know how to follow Jesus,” we are saying, “Give me the law! Give me the law!” When we say we just want to get practical, we are saying, “Give me the law! Give me the law!” Paul is saying, “No, you don’t want the law. It only leads to death!”

That’s the good news: Jesus was obedient to the law on our behalf, took upon himself the wrath reserved for lawbreakers, and then rose from the dead so that the law might be accomplished not only for us, but also through us, by the power of his Spirit (Rom 8:1-5). That is sound doctrine that is “in accordance with the glorious gospel of the blessed God” (1 Tim 1:11).

With that in mind, our worship service at Providence has a very intentional flow: Call to worship, singing songs of praise, confession of sin, absolution, profession of faith, reading of Scripture, preaching, communion, benediction. This form of worship mirrors several biblical patterns or rhythms:

Call and Response

Again and again in the Bible, we see God as the initiator. He’s the primary mover. God spoke and called the universe into existence. God called Abraham to leave his homeland, and Abraham responded by doing so. God called Moses to lead his people out of slavery, and Moses (reluctantly) did so. God called Paul on the road to Damascus, and Paul responded with a life of following Jesus. God calls all his children to himself, and they respond in faith and are justified and will be glorified. A worship service should reflect this pattern of call and response. God graciously calls us (we who are stubborn and self-interested) to worship him, and we respond by singing, confessing sin, praying, professing what we believe, listening attentively to God’s word, and feasting on the meal that signifies his grace in Christ. We aren’t spectators at a worship service, we are participants responding to our gracious God!

Creation, Fall, Redemption, Consummation

This is the storyline of the Bible and of our lives. God not only created the world, he created people in his own image. Then people sinned, bringing death and brokenness to themselves and to God’s good creation. God redeemed (and is redeeming) that which is broken through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. One day Jesus will return and his people will live forever with him in new bodies on a new earth. A worship service should bring to mind this biblical storyline. The Creator calls us. We acknowledge our sin (our “fallenness”). God assures us of his forgiveness in Christ. We experience that redemption (in part) as we are renewed by his Word and nourished by communion.

Gathering In and Sending Out

In the Old Testament, leaders like Moses and David shepherded God’s people like sheep by bringing them in (for rest and nourishment) and leading them out (to fulfill God’s calling). Jesus gathered the twelve disciples to be with him, but then he sent them out on mission. The church was gathered in one place at Pentecost, and then the Spirit sent them out with the gospel to new people and new places. A worship service mirrors this rhythm. God gathers his people in for nourishment, renewal, and rest, and then he sends them out with a blessing (a benediction) that they might live as salt and light in the world.

The gathered worship of the church on Sundays is not less than music and preaching, but it is so much more. It is a participation in biblical patterns that have always shaped God’s people. It is a reminder that God, although he is our personal God, is not our private God. As you think about your participation in the weekly gathered worship of the church, consider these practical suggestions:

• Be on time. If you miss the call to worship or the confession of sin or some other element, you’ve missed some aspect of how God normatively renews his people.
• Pray beforehand and ask God to help you enter with a heart inclined towards him and towards others. This doesn’t come naturally for most of us.
• Don’t judge the service based solely upon your feelings. Sometimes your heart will soar as you sing, you’ll feel deeply convicted by the sermon, and your emotions will be high. Sometimes you won’t feel any of that. But we worship by faith, knowing that the Triune God is at work in and through his people.