Fasting has long been a regular practice of God’s people. It was required in the law of Moses on the Day of Atonement. Over time fasting expanded beyond this one day a year. By the time our Lord was on earth fasting was a regular part of the lives of God’s people. It had also become corrupted by selfish motives. Jesus warned against this in the Sermon on the Mount:

And when you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces that their fasting may be seen by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, that your fasting may not be seen by others but by your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

Matthew 6:16–18 ESV

Many have understood this to be a prohibition against fasting in such a way that others know or are aware of your fasting, but this isn’t what Jesus’ point is. The hypocrites went out of their way to be seen by others. A quick glance at the broader context shows this. In Matthew 6:1 Jesus warns the people to beware of practicing their righteousness “in order to be seen by them”. Next he says that when giving to the needy, “sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be praised by others” (Matthew 6:2). He continues with a warning regarding prayer: when you pray, don’t pray like the hypocrites who “love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by others” (Matthew 6:5). He says to “go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret”. If the warning concerning fasting is to not allow others to see or know about it in any way, then we must immediately cease any and all public prayer! Clearly this is not his point. His point is we must not practice our righteousness selfishly. That is, we must not parade it around in such a way that we intentionally draw attention to ourselves. When the hypocrites in his day fasted, they intentionally disfigured their faces in some way that showed to everyone that they were fasting. It’s not hard to imagine such a person holding his stomach and moaning, “Oh, I’m soooo hungry, such is my love for God! This is what he’s warning against.

Jesus’ emphasis is on fasting (and praying and giving to those in need) for the right reasons, which necessarily precludes showing off. But does this in any way obligate us today to fast? The early church thought so! In the first century document known as “The Didache”, or “the Teachings of the Apostles”, Christians were given instructions for fasting twice a week. Whereas the hypocrites fasted twice a week, on Mondays and Thursdays, the Christians were to fast on Wednesdays and Fridays. Does this mean you and I should fast regularly, whether twice a week or monthly or yearly or some other schedule? Those first-century Christians were on to something significant, and it comes from Jesus. Not only did he give instructions for how to fast if you fast, he indicated he expected his followers to fast. In Matthew 9 we read an interesting encounter:

Then the disciples of John came to him, saying, “Why do we and the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not fast?” And Jesus said to them, “Can the wedding guests mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them? The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast. No one puts a piece of unshrunk cloth on an old garment, for the patch tears away from the garment, and a worse tear is made. Neither is new wine put into old wineskins. If it is, the skins burst and the wine is spilled and the skins are destroyed. But new wine is put into fresh wineskins, and so both are preserved.”

Matthew 9:14–17 ESV

The disciples of John the Baptist fasted regularly, as did the Pharisees (the hypocrites Jesus earlier rebuked), but Jesus’ disciples did not fast. Aha! So we don’t have to fast! Well, not so (ahem) fast. Jesus explained why his disciples did not fast: he was with them. He declares that when he is no longer with them then they will fast, but that fast will be completely different from the former fasting. He illustrates this with using cloth that has not shrunk as a patch on clothing that has already shrunk: it’ll ruin the clothing when it shrinks. So, too, with wineskins. New wine gives off gases; if you put it into an old wineskin, one that has already stretched, when it gives off its gases it will burst the wineskin. His point is that the fasting of his disciples after he departs will be a new kind of fasting and will need a new kind of purpose. His kingdom is an entirely new kind of wine and needs an entirely new kind of practice.

What new practices were connected to this new kind of fasting when the Lord departed? In Acts 13 we see the church in Antioch engaged in this new kind of fasting:

While they were worshiping the Lord and fasting, the Holy Spirit said, “Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.” Then after fasting and praying they laid their hands on them and sent them off.

Acts 13:2–3 ESV

Fasting served a number of functions here. It was a way to engage in worship and it appears to have been a means of seeking direction from the Lord, for while they were fasting the Spirit led them to set apart Barnabas and Saul, and it appears to be involved in actually setting them apart for their ministry. Multi-function fasting! Barnabas and Saul (Paul) continued the practice of fasting when setting apart leaders:

And when they had appointed elders for them in every church, with prayer and fasting they committed them to the Lord in whom they had believed.

Acts 14:23 ESV

The new elders in each of these churches were committed to the Lord with fasting and prayer. We see this connection between fasting and prayer elsewhere in the New Testament. In his letter to the Corinthians Paul instructed husbands and wives to engage in the act of marriage regularly, as it is the sign of the marriage covenant. He writes,

Do not deprive one another, except perhaps by agreement for a limited time, that you may devote yourselves to prayer; but then come together again, so that Satan may not tempt you because of your lack of self-control.

1 Corinthians 7:5 ESV

Barring medical or physical issues that prevent it, husbands and wives must engage in the act of marriage, however, fasting may include abstaining from the act of marriage—but only for a limited time, only by mutual agreement, and only for the purpose of prayer. Fasting is not just giving up food or a specific kind of food, but even giving up good and regular activities. Whatever is given up, it is clear that Jesus expected his followers to fast and the early church practiced fasting regularly. What are we to do with this? It should be obvious: we ought to fast as well!

We see several important purposes of fasting in the new covenant. First and foremost it is intended to facilitate our worship. By denying ourselves something good we are demonstrating that God is more satisfying than the thing we give up. (This applies to financial giving as well, for our giving demonstrates God is worth more than whatever that money could have purchased for ourselves.) Coffee or chocolate or meat or your daily television consumption may bring you joy, but God brings even more. Thus fasting facilitates worship through its implicit declaration that God is our ultimate delight and satisfaction. Second, fasting enhances our prayer. By devoting the time we normally spend eating or drinking or watching TV to prayer, we spend more time in prayer and along with this time in prayer we experience our desperate need to hear from the Lord. Just as the church in Antioch prayed and fasted to hear from the Lord, so must we. Through our self-denial we open ourselves up more fully to listen to the Lord, that he may speak to us.

If I were to summarize the newness of fasting in the “new wineskin” that Jesus mentioned, it would be as I did in last Sunday’s sermon: fasting is not meant to make us more pleasing to God, but to show us how much more pleasing God is to us than whatever it is we give up for a time.

Because fasting was such an important part of following Jesus in the early church, over time fasting became more structured. Various spring fasts were eventually combined into one around the time of the Council of Nicea (AD 325). (You can read more here.) Whole churches would fast together, understanding that they were not fasting like the hypocrites, that is, to show off their righteousness, but to engage in a spiritual discipline together as they worshiped the Lord and sought a greater experience of his presence in their lives.

Lent begins tomorrow. Let’s join together in a fast by each one of us giving up something good and spending more time in prayer. Be sure to join us at 9:30 on Sunday mornings in the Conference Room to pray together before our worship service. Keep in mind that giving up something can also be adding a specific thing to your life, such as getting up a half-hour earlier to read or memorize Scripture. Let’s do what our Lord expected, knowing that while he is present in his assembly on Sundays we do not fast, returning to the fast on Mondays again, until Easter Sunday. Let’s see how the Lord will give us more of him through this fast.

I have had a long fascination with church history in general and with the early church in particular. I have enjoyed reading early church fathers from the second and third centuries and have gained a great appreciation for our historic faith rooted in the early movement of Christ-followers. One thing I’ve discovered is the that the early church, like the apostles, fought for orthodoxy, or right belief. Jude wrote his brief letter encouraging believers “to contend for the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints” (Jude 3). Paul exhorted young Timothy to be careful with the apostolic teaching: “what you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses entrust to faithful men, who will be able to teach others also” (2 Timothy 2:2). The early church fathers who followed the footsteps of the apostles and that first generation of believers were careful to fight for the truth that was handed down. This should not be surprising. What is surprising is the wide latitude the early church allowed in a variety of practices (we will see more of this in our Spring / Summer topical series on the Apostles’ Creed and our own New City Church distinctives).

In the early 300s, shortly before the Council of Nicea, a man named Eusebius wrote a history of the church. In this history he tells a fascinating story about an elder from the church in Rome and an elder from the church in Smyrna. Each of these men were presiding elders, or as they came to be known in the second century, “bishops” or overseers (to use the word the English Standard Version uses). Many churches today would use the title “senior pastor”. The first was Anicetus and the second was the well-known martyr Polycarp. In the second century there were a wide variety of practices when it came to fasting and observing certain days as holy. One of these was the annual observance of Easter.

One year Polycarp—perhaps the most-widely celebrated bishop of his day—visited Rome on Pascha, the day before the church in Rome would celebrate Easter. In preparation the church in Rome was fasting for the following day’s celebration. Anicetus was shocked to discover that Polycarp and his church back in Smyrna were not fasting, as they would not be observing Easter the next day. Polycarp argued that the apostle John, along with the other apostles, had taught him to observe the resurrection of Jesus on 14 Nisan, the date of Passover on the Jewish calendar, whereas Anicetus argued that the elders who came before him had taught him to observe it always on a Sunday, the first day of the week.

Think of the debate! On the one hand Peter and Paul had both been in Rome, passing on the faith to faithful men. They had, apparently, observed Easter on a Sunday rather than a specific date, much like we do today. The apostle John, however, had taught Polycarp to observe Easter on a specific date, much like we do with Christmas today. How can this be, when the apostles instructed us in the Scriptures to hold fast to true doctrine? The resolution to this “problem” is a lesson for us all today:

And when the blessed Polycarp was at Rome in the time of Anicetus, and they disagreed a little about certain other things, they immediately made peace with one another, not caring to quarrel over this matter. For neither could Anicetus persuade Polycarp not to observe what he had always observed with John the disciple of our Lord, and the other apostles with whom he had associated; neither could Polycarp persuade Anicetus to observe it as he said that he ought to follow the customs of the presbyters that had preceded him.

But though matters were in this shape, they communed together, and Anicetus conceded the administration of the eucharist in the church to Polycarp, manifestly as a mark of respect. And they parted from each other in peace, both those who observed, and those who did not, maintaining the peace of the whole church.

Philip Schaff and Henry Wace, eds., Eusebius Pamphilus: Church History, Life of Constantine, & Oration in Praise of Constantine (NPNF-2 I; Accordance electronic ed. 14 vols.; New York: Christian Literature Publishing, 1890), n.p., Book 5, Chapter 22, Parargraphs 16–17

Rather than divide over what was clearly an important practice, Anicetus allowed his fellow elder to serve communion to the church in Rome. (Churches would later agree to a common reckoning of the date of Easter, which is what we observe today.) Our unity is not in our practice, but in our common faith in Jesus!

What does this have to do with Lent? Much in every way! There were numerous times of fasting in the early church. In the first century Christians would fast every Wednesday and Friday, with various longer fasts at other times. Fasting prior to the celebration of Easter was both widespread and disparate. There were all sorts of fasts and for different reasons. Over time these consolidated into what we know of as the Lenten fast, or the spring fast (Lent comes from a word meaning “spring”). This fast became a 40-day fast of voluntary sacrifice. Though it’s a 40-day fast, it takes place over 46 days. This is because Jesus said his disciples would not fast while he was with them but when he was not with them they would fast (see Mark 2:18–22). Since Jesus is present in his gathered assembly in a unique and powerful way, we do not fast on Sundays. In fact, we share a meal together every Sunday as we observe the Lord’s Supper.

Lent begins on February 17—next Wednesday—and continues until Holy Saturday, the day before Easter Sunday, which is April 4 this year. There are six Sundays between next Wednesday and Easter Sunday, so while next Wednesday until the Saturday before Easter is 46 days, the fast is only 40 days.

There is no biblical requirement that a follower of Jesus observe Lent by sacrificing something good during this time. On the other hand, Jesus clearly expected his disciples to fast. Whether you fast regularly as the earliest Christians did, or you fast occasionally such as when you have a pressing need to hear from the Lord, or you have never fasted, why not join in the fast of Lent this year? The reason for voluntarily sacrificing something good is simple: we are reminded that resurrection ends suffering. We gather together on Sunday mornings in celebration of Jesus’ resurrection, which means each Sunday is a “mini” Easter and once a year we go big in celebrating his resurrection on Easter Sunday. When we enjoy the thing we’ve given up, be it chocolate or coffee or whatever it is, we are reminded on Sunday that resurrection ends all suffering.

Our voluntary sacrifice should be something we enjoy regularly. If I were to give up liver, for example, there is no sacrifice involved. It could also be something other than food. If you enjoy television each day, you could give up an hour or two and devote that time to something else. In other words, your sacrifice could be a positive addition to your life. Get up a little earlier and spend time reading Scripture. Or spend more time praying. This year I plan to get up earlier than I usually do and spend an hour each day working on Hebrew. I promise you that I will find myself longing for Sundays to end my suffering!

You could also get up early and spend time writing notes to encourage other members of the church or memorize Scripture or some other worthwhile activity. You can add a positive activity and you can remove something good from your life. Either way, allow a change in your behavior during the fast, knowing that whatever difficulty it creates for you (less sleep, a craving for that late-night snack you indulge in normally, more Hebrew flashcards, etc.), the resurrection of Jesus means our future resurrection and resurrection will end all suffering, no matter how small or how great.

Lent allows us to take on discomfort in our lives. “Sacrifice” may be too strong a word (though if my wife actually gives up Brussels sprouts for Lent, I suspect “sacrifice” may not be a strong enough word). The idea is that we take on a form, even a mild form, of suffering as a means of focusing our attention on the Lord’s suffering and his resurrection that ended not only his suffering, but will soon end all our suffering. Lent is simply a tool, one that we use to focus on that which really matters: Jesus Christ died, was buried, and rose again on the third day, and is coming soon to restore all things. Lent helps us say, “Come, Lord Jesus.”

We’ve all been there: on the top of the world and life cruising along just as it should. Then we’re not, and it’s not. As followers of Jesus we have, of course, every confidence that God remains in control and will get us through, yet we often seem utterly wrecked when difficulties come.

In Psalm 30 David writes of the vagaries of life, the erratic and unpredictable series of events and circumstances that come our way. The psalm begins with a declaration of praise for God’s rescue:

I will extol you, O LORD, for you have drawn me up and have not let my foes rejoice over me. O LORD my God, I cried to you for help, and you have healed me. O LORD, you have brought up my soul from Sheol; you restored me to life from among those who go down to the pit.

Sing praises to the LORD, O you his saints, and give thanks to his holy name. For his anger is but for a moment, and his favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.

Psalm 30:1–5 ESV

David acknowledges that he was once in desperate need and as we all do, he cried out to the Lord for rescue—and the Lord rescued him. He encourages all of God’s people to praise the Lord, to give thanks to the Lord and then he gives two key reasons. First, God’s anger is momentary yet his favor lasts a lifetime. That is, difficulties are brief but God’s love lasts forever. Second, weeping can come for a night, just like an unwelcome houseguest, but joy comes bright and early—just like a houseguest who is told to be gone by breakfast.

It is easy to have this sort of faith, for we’ve all been through difficult times and we’ve seen God get us through it. We’ve been in the valley, only to soon find ourselves on the mountaintop. As prosperous Westerners living in a truly prosperous time (for even our poor have indoor plumbing, heating, microwave ovens, and cable TV), we love victory. We love the feeling of triumph and we know we can endure the valley for the coming of the mountaintop. We strive to live in that triumph, and so did David.

As for me, I said in my prosperity, “I shall never be moved.” By your favor, O LORD, you made my mountain stand strong; you hid your face; I was dismayed.

Psalm 30:6–7 ESV

The problem with striving for the mountaintop is when we get there we tend to think we’ve arrived, that we’re finally where we belong and we’ll do everything within our power to remain there. This is living! This is triumph! No one and no thing can ever move us from this spot! This was the psalmist’s boast. He even acknowledges that God is the one who placed him there, so surely this is faith speaking, right? No. It was not faith speaking, for as soon as God “hid” his face—removed the blessing of prosperity—David was dismayed. He crashed from victory to a feeling of utter defeat. He was undone. How quickly life can move a person from incredible victory to such profound defeat! Such are the vagaries of life.

The psalm ends on a note of victory, but a victory that is rooted in something other than the uncertainty of life.

To you, O LORD, I cry, and to the Lord I plead for mercy: “What profit is there in my death, if I go down to the pit? Will the dust praise you? Will it tell of your faithfulness? Hear, O LORD, and be merciful to me! O LORD, be my helper!”

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give thanks to you forever!

Psalm 30:8–12 ESV

Again David acknowledges that switch from suffering to joy, from desperate pleading to deliverance. He calls upon the Lord’s greatness. He declares he will praise the Lord with thanksgiving forever. How can he say “forever” when he does not know when the next valley will come? Scripture is clear that David’s life seems to have been a trip from mountain to valley to mountain to valley and back to mountain.

There is a subtle shift in the psalm. David admitted that for him, he said in his prosperity, “I shall never be moved.” What was he really trusting in when he said this? His circumstances. He even declared God made his mountain unmovable! As soon as God allowed a little more adversity to come, David was undone because David was not really trusting in the Lord but trusting in his circumstances. Notice that David pleads with the Lord for deliverance and asks how, if he dies, he will praise the Lord? He’s finally seeing that all of life is in God’s hands, the good and the bad, the mountaintop and the valley, the prosperity and the poverty and that whether in the valley or on top of the mountain, whether experiencing prosperity or poverty, whether good or bad has come, the right response is to praise the Lord and give him thanks. David was learning what Paul said explicitly in his letter to the church at Philippi.

Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

Philippians 4:11–13 ESV

As Westerners who love victory and triumph, we love the last part: I can do all things through him who strengthens me. I’m reminded of a T-shirt Ray recently told me about that read, “I can do all things…through a verse taken out of context.” Paul said he can be brought low and abound. He can face both plenty and hunger. He can receive abundance and he can experience need. The “all things” refers to these, to the mountaintop and the valley.

As David was learning and as Paul had learned, come what may, our confidence is in the Lord to get us through the bad and to get us through the good, for if the Lord will not walk with us through the good we have no hope of coming through the good faithfully any more than we can come through the bad faithfully without him. Life is unpredictable, yet God is constant. It is the constancy of God we trust, in the good and in the bad.

I don’t recall where I heard it, but it has stuck with me ever since. I don’t recall whether a person spoke this word of exhortation to me or I read it somewhere. What I remember is that ever since I have tried to embrace it in every area of my life. The exhortation was this: don’t just learn from the successes of others; learn from their mistakes, too.

We often see the positive injunctions for how we ought to live, usually in the form of some click-bait online: “Nine habits of the super-wealthy” or we read about the determined efforts of an athlete who succeeds long after most his age have retired. We’re encouraged to emulate their positive habits. Occasionally we’re told to reject some negative things, too, such as “don’t eat these five foods”, but rarely are we presented with failures of others as an exemplar for how we ought to live. Consider, then, Psalm 78—the second longest Psalm in the Bible. It begins with a call to listen up:

Give ear, O my people, to my teaching; incline your ears to the words of my mouth! I will open my mouth in a parable; I will utter dark sayings from of old, things that we have heard and known, that our fathers have told us. We will not hide them from their children, but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the LORD, and his might, and the wonders that he has done.

Psalm 78:1–4 ESV

The psalm begins with a warning that “dark sayings from old”—the nitty-gritty stuff that most of us would prefer to not hear about—will be spoken of but so will “the glorious deeds of the LORD”. The psalm immediately gets to the dark sayings.

He established a testimony in Jacob and appointed a law in Israel, which he commanded our fathers to teach to their children, that the next generation might know them, the children yet unborn, and arise and tell them to their children, so that they should set their hope in God and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments; and that they should not be like their fathers, a stubborn and rebellious generation, a generation whose heart was not steadfast, whose spirit was not faithful to God.

Psalm 78:4–8 ESV

There is the call to positive behavior: set your hope in God and don’t forget his works. See also the negative instruction: don’t be like that previous generation who was unfaithful to God. In verses 12–55 the psalm recounts the unfaithfulness of the Exodus generation, the very people who had seen and experienced God’s direct, miraculous work in rescuing them from Egypt. Though God gave them manna from heaven and meat without limit, though they had received blessing upon blessing from God,

In spite of all this, they still sinned; despite his wonders, they did not believe.

Psalm 78:32 ESV

Even a cursory reading of the book of Exodus reveals the failures of that generation. The call in this psalm is to learn from their example—from their bad example. However, later generations failed to pay attention. In verses 55–64 the failures of yet another generation, this of the generation near the end of the period of the judges when God had settled the people in the land of Israel, are on display.

He drove out nations before them; he apportioned them for a possession and settled the tribes of Israel in their tents. Yet they tested and rebelled against the Most High God and did not keep his testimonies, but turned away and acted treacherously like their fathers; they twisted like a deceitful bow. For they provoked him to anger with their high places; they moved him to jealousy with their idols.

Psalm 78:55–58 ESV

Instead of rejecting the failures of a previous generation, they embraced them and made them their own. As you know, the psalms were written for corporate worship. Can you imagine singing a song with 72 verses that recount the failures of previous generations and the anger and discipline of God upon those generations? Over and over again the psalm recounts the myriad failures of Israel, even though it begins by declaring it will proclaim “the glorious deeds of the LORD, and his might, and the wonders that he has done”. We read that God “was full of wrath; a fire was kindled against Jacob; his fierce anger rose against Israel” (v. 21) and “the anger of God rose against them, and he killed the strongest of them and laid low the young men of Israel” (v. 31) and “he made their days vanish like a breath, and their years in terror” (v. 33). We read, “When God heard, he was full of wrath, and he utterly rejected Israel. He forsook his dwelling at Shiloh, the tent where he dwelt among mankind” (vv. 59–60). Then the psalm ends on a strangely positive note:

He rejected the tent of Joseph; he did not choose the tribe of Ephraim, but he chose the tribe of Judah, Mount Zion, which he loves. He built his sanctuary like the high heavens, like the earth, which he has founded forever. He chose David his servant and took him from the sheepfolds; from following the nursing ewes he brought him to shepherd Jacob his people, Israel his inheritance. With upright heart he shepherded them and guided them with his skillful hand.

Psalm 78:67–72 ESV

In a psalm recounting Israel’s many historical sins, David is presented as the recipient of God’s goodness, the very same David who was a murderer and who committed grave sexual sin, against God and against Bathsheba. Those who read and sang this psalm knew exactly the sort of man David was. Yes, he was called “a man after God’s own heart” yet his sins are on full display in the Scriptures.

The question in my mind is why on earth is this a song written for corporate worship? As we saw in my article titled, “Good Worship Music“, good worship music does not ignore our lived reality and experience. Rather, it includes our lived reality and experience but in light of God’s mercy and grace. The truth is Psalm 78 is not really about Israel’s sins and ongoing rebellion against God. It is not about David’s sins and rebellion against God. The psalm is highlighting the mercy and grace of God, for he chose David to be king of Israel. He called Israel out of Egypt. He blessed Israel in the land. Though they all sinned against him and failed to heed the warning of prior generations, God’s character is such that he honors his own word and keeps his own promises. His covenant is dependent on his faithfulness, not ours. By highlighting Israel’s unfaithfulness, Psalm 78 highlights the even greater faithfulness of our God.

This psalm is a call for us to heed the example of those who have gone before. We should emulate their good behavior and we must reject their sinful behavior and thoughts and attitudes. At the end of the day, however, we must rest in the overriding truth on display in this psalm: God is faithful, even when we are not. This is why we must participate in the communal life of the church, calling one another to faithfulness, both by embracing positive spiritual disciplines and by rejecting the sinful examples of those who came before us. If all of life is to be an act of worship (see Romans 12:1), then Psalm 78 is a great song of worship.

Often when we think of the Psalms we think of personal and private prayer, not public worship. They are often intimate and emotional, and we tend to not think of those things as suitable for public singing. Take, for example, one of David’s Psalms:

I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears; I drench my couch with my weeping. My eye wastes away because of grief; it grows weak because of all my foes.

Psalm 6:6–7 ESV

Not exactly the sort of thing we talk about with close friends, let alone sing together in public! Yet the Psalms were worship songs—public worship songs, sung as part of temple worship. A popular criticism of modern worship songs is the tendency of the writers to use the first-person singular. For example, last Sunday we sang the Matt Redman song “Once Again”:

Once again
I look upon the cross
Where You died
I’m humbled by Your mercy
And I’m broken inside
Once again I thank You
Once again I pour out my life

The song is about our individual, personal experience of being reminded of God’s mercy and grace. Critics have argued that “true” worship music should be in second-person singular, that is, they should be sung to God about God. According to these critics Israel Houghton’s song “You Are Good” is the only way to worship:

Lord You are good
And Your mercy endureth forever
Lord You are good
And Your mercy endureth forever

At the most, some say, worship songs should be from a collective perspective, such as Bob Kauflin’s song “Glory Awaits”:

We are longing for Christ’s appearing
It won’t be long, It won’t be long
Tears will vanish when we see Him
It won’t be long, It won’t be long

The idea is that this is corporate worship. It is about what we, the gathered assembly, do. These critics denounce any personal expressions in worship—at least in worship music. The difficulty with these critiques comes when one reads the Psalms. Consider Psalm 119:

With my whole heart I seek you; let me not wander from your commandments! I have stored up your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you. Blessed are you, O LORD; teach me your statutes! With my lips I declare all the rules of your mouth. In the way of your testimonies I delight as much as in all riches. I will meditate on your precepts and fix my eyes on your ways. I will delight in your statutes; I will not forget your word.

Psalm 119:10–16 ESV

Notice how many times the psalmist refers to himself and what he will do in response to God’s goodness. I seek you. I have stored up your word. I declare all your rules. I delight in your testimonies. I will meditate. I will delight in your statutes.

The Psalms were written for public, corporate worship. Yes, many were intimate and personal prayers. Many reveal the author’s private thoughts and fears and struggles. Many were written in the first-person singular. Still, they were written for public worship by God’s people. What is remarkable about the Psalms and the corporate worship of God is how experiential they are.

In his letter to the Colossians the apostle Paul instructed them in a specific way.

Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God.

Colossians 3:16 ESV

If we only read this it would seem that worship music merely describes propositional truth: God is like this and he is like that and he does these other things. There are many worship songs that do this. If we read this instruction in context, however, a different sense begins to emerge. Worship music must include teaching and admonishment as it points us to the Lord, but consider the context. In just chapter 3 of Colossians Paul tells the church there to pursue heavenly things (vv. 1–4)—to live as citizens of the kingdom of heaven. He tells them to put to death whatever belongs to the earthly kingdom, things like immorality and impurity and anger and wrath and such (vv. 5–10). He emphasizes that in the church ethnic distinctions (Greek and Jew) and religious background (circumcised and uncircumcised) and cultural expression (barbarian and Scythian) and socio-economic distinctions (slave and free) do not and cannot divide the church for Christ is in all (v. 11). He tells them instead of division to put on things like compassionate hearts and kindness and humility and patience and if they have difficulty with one another, to forgive as the Lord has forgiven them (v. 12–13). They must live in community in love as the peace of Christ permeates their very being as they are one body (v. 14–15).

It is at this point that he tells them to teach and admonish one another with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs! Why? Because these psalms and hymns and spiritual songs relate directly to their experience of life in Christ together! The rest of the chapter gives more instructions for life together, thus emphasizing the corporate experience of God.

It is clear, then, that worship music is necessarily experiential. Yes, it proclaims great and wonderful things about God, but it also speaks of our response to his goodness and our responsibility to respond to him in love, not only for him, but for one another. This is why it is an act of worship for us to sing songs like Nic’s song “One In Christ”:

Bearing with one another
In humility and peace
We will walk into the hope as we’ve been called
Faithfully we will labor
For the splendor of Your bride
Growing in the leadership of Christ

We are all in one body
We are called to one hope
And we drink of one Spirit
We are one in Christ

Our faith is not merely an intellectual assent to various truths about God and about ourselves. Our faith is rooted in the truth that the Son of God became human, lived, died for our sins, and rose again, but it is also rooted in the experiential reality that God in Christ is transforming all things—including us as we live in community together. Let’s live out our faith this way, and let’s worship God together in this same way.