“I hate, I despise your religious feasts; I cannot stand your assemblies. Even though you bring me burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them. Though you bring choice fellowship offerings, I will have no regard for them. Away with the noise of your songs! I will not listen to the music of your harps. But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!” Amos 5:21-24
Dear heavenly Father, these are some very strong words about worship and what really amounts to “music in your ears.” But you never get “in my face” except to drive me into more of your grace. Such is the beauty of the relationship you’ve established with me in Jesus. Such is the purpose of your “life giving rebukes” (Proverbs 15:31).
Meditating on this portion of your Word leads me to these conclusions, convictions and petitions. First and foremost, it’s quite possible for me to thoroughly enjoy a service of worship—the liturgy, the Lord’s Supper, the music—and yet the same service might truly grieve you. Conversely, there are probably services I exit bored, critical and “uninspired”… and yet in these services, you find great delight and pleasure. Forgive me when I make my experience the measure of the acceptability of your worship. How arrogant of me.
Father, it’s also obvious that “justice rolling like a river” and “righteousness flowing like a never-failing stream” is music in your ears—the kind of “praise songs” you really enjoy… a hymnody for which you long… the “new worship music” that’s “new creation” new, and not just novel or noise in your ears.
Forgive me when the new song of the gospel does not lead to a new life of caring for others. Forgive me when the satisfaction of being in your presence does not lead to the sacrifice of serving in the community. Forgive me when I can be just as disconnected and merciless as the priest or the Levite in the parable of the Good Samaritan—who enjoyed your real presence then proceeded to ignore real need (Luke 10:25-37).
Lord Jesus, you were the Good Samaritan to me, and you still are. But you didn’t just find me beaten and broken alongside the road, you found me running as fast as I could from you. I know God and worship God only because you first cared for me… served me… loved me by giving your life for me. Make me a humble, grateful, joyful worship servant. So very Amen, I pray, to your glory and by your grace.
