“For where two or three are gathered in my name, I’m there with them” Matthew 18:20 (CEB).

Few of us believe this anymore. Many of us will say we believe it. Jesus said it so of course we confess it to be true. But the reality is that few in the western world believe these words to the point where they have any impact on how we live and how we worship.

This is not necessarily our fault. We have been born and raised in an age where we are taught: if you cannot see it, touch it, feel it, and prove it “scientifically” then it is not true. We have been given a disenchanted world, a reality reduced to what is material. Anything transcendent, anything with an element of mystery is viewed with suspicion. If we cannot see it, then we certainly better be able to feel it for us to give it credibility. 

The Church, at least in the west, has bought into this narrative. We live in what the philosopher Charles Taylor calls “The immanent frame”. In other words, we live within the boundaries of immanence. Immanence refers to what is near and knowable, what can be understood. Transcendence, on the other hand, refers to what is distant and mysterious, what cannot be fully grasped or quantified. Perhaps nowhere is this more evident than in how we think of worship. 

It has become commonplace for us to think of “worship” as synonymous with “music”. Where four chords are played in Jesus’ name, we believe Jesus is there with us. Of course, this assumes the chords are played well with a full band and the volume cranked up to 11! And certainly the bass must reverberate throughout the room so we can feel it in our hearts.

Do not get me wrong – I grew up going to punk rock and metalcore shows. I love loud music as much as anyone! But there is a problem when we cannot tell the difference between a sanctuary and an auditorium, a church and a concert venue, a place for worship and a place for entertainment. When worship is equated with experience, when our gatherings require for us to be entertained, when we find that we cannot worship without a certain kind of music and a certain kind of ambiance and atmosphere, then we demonstrate that we are trapped in the immanent frame. In the immanent frame, worship must be felt. In the immanent frame, worship must reach our eyes, ears, and arms. If it gives us goosebumps, that is when we know the Spirit is present.

To be clear: I would never want to say that worship can never include loud music, nor that worship cannot include and involve the senses and emotions. Grounded in a robust theology of worship, ordered around God’s Word, and in an appropriate context, these things may very well be helpful in their own way. But when we make these things necessary, when worship must involve sensual experience, then we betray that we live more according to the rules of the immanent frame than the teachings of Jesus.

The need for worship to resemble entertainment, the fear of worship being boring, is a product of the immanent frame. The saints of the past never for a moment worried about whether or not worship was boring. The paradigm of entertainment vs. boredom was not an appropriate framework for thinking about worship. All the modern tools we employ to create a worship experience – the music, the light show, the concert–like atmosphere – would never have been viewed as necessary in the times of Paul or Augustine, or Martin Luther. And here is why: people used to actually believe that what the scriptures proclaimed was true. 

It used to be assumed that when God’s people gathered together for worship, God was present. Jesus said, where two or more are gathered in His name, He is present. The Word of God said it, and people believed it. They took Jesus at His Word whether they “felt” it or not, whether they “experienced” it or not. And so when the words of confession were spoken, people knew they were not just words but words spoken to God. When the words of assurance and forgiveness were said, people understood that this was not the preacher speaking to them but God. When the scriptures were read, it was understood that this was God speaking to God’s people. The God who made the heavens and the earth and the sea and every living thing was speaking at that moment, in this place, to these people. When the people received the bread and wine, it was believed that this was truly the body and blood of Christ. After all, that is what Jesus said! There was never a thought of how to make worship more entertaining. Because if God is present as God said He is present, and if God is speaking and forgiving and sending, then that is enough! What more could anyone want?

What is necessary for Christian worship is for two or more to be gathered in the name of Jesus. In that moment, whether we feel it or not, Jesus is present. When we gather together in Jesus’ name and are open and present and submissive to God, and when the scriptures are read, listened to, and obeyed, then we are worshiping God. Music is not even necessary! Of course, music is a great way for us to respond to God’s Word in prayer and rejoicing. We can sing, we can dance, we can paint. But it is all grounded in what God has done and what God has said. Christian worship is response. God has acted. God has spoken. God has forgiven. Worship is our communal response.

So let us worship God!

Note: This reflection was born out of two things: 1) My reading of Andrew Root, particularly Churches and the Crisis of Decline and Faith Formation in a Secular Age. It is from Root that I pull in the idea of the Immanent Frame from Charles Taylor. 2) My study on the lectionary passage from Deuteronomy 18:15-20 in preparation for this past week’s sermon. Moses contrasts the way that the nations seek the gods (through divination, sorcery, etc.) with the way that YHWH will meet with his people. In studying this passage, I was greatly helped by Eugene Peterson’s work in the fifth chapter of The Jesus Way where he contrasts worship of Baal versus worship of YHWH.