The rocks are crying out as is all of nature in worship of the one true God and we stand silent.  We mouth the words and appreciate, in our society of entertainment, the lengths the worship team goes to in order to entertain us.  Perhaps the right chord or the right mix of lighting effects will combine to move our hearts and cause us to sing; because those things are much more important than recognizing God in our lives.   I sing the worship songs on Sunday morning with the same gusto with which I sing any other song.  And we move through each Sunday; as a duty.  Sunday is for God, after all.  It is time to pay him his dues, sing him his songs, pay him his money, listen to his word and avoid any comparisons to the Pharisees.

Our college chaplain used to open his prayers with "Accept us into your presence as we lay our prayers before your throne."  What an image.  I think about all the ways that God has blessed me.  And I am humbled.  He has blessed me with friends who have shown me love and acceptance.  He has blessed me with a job where I am humbled to impact the lives of young adults.  He has blessed me with a talent to write and to touch others lives with what I write.  I can't even wrap my mind around that immense blessing; the God of the universe would deign to use me to touch someone else.  I am almost reduced to tears.  I am blessed in a million other ways: I can read, I can see.  And I get a chance, once a week, to stand before my brothers and sisters and, with them by my side, thank God; to raise my voice with many so that as one we can worship God as a unified whole, an act, in and of itself, of worship.  I yearn for the place when I can thank God, praise him, tears streaming down my face because God is so good.  It is my choice.  Each person in the congregation needs to make the choice.  Too bad we are spoiled.  I am glad that the rocks are doing my job for me.

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