Surrender

“Worship, in its purest form, is a complete surrender of self.”

In the summer of 2017 I was entering my sophomore year of college and my naivety was embarrassingly high for the stage of life I was walking in. It was at this time (to my humbling amazement now) that the youth pastor of my home church asked me to teach a lesson on a Wednesday night. It would be the first installment of a series that would introduce a rambunctious and hilariously animated group of young people to the idea of apostolic worship. My brother reminded me of the lesson recently, so I went back and listened to it. I laughed and cringed and cried a little as I revisited the colorfully decorated corridors of my 19 year old mind. But, in all of her fiery confidence and quite equal dose of ignorance, she got a few things right. She reminded me of some things I had forgotten. I thought I’d share them with you today, in case you’ve forgotten them too.

In this age, where worship experiences are weekly occurrences and diverse expressions of worship are more widely practiced in Christianity at large, it is becoming increasingly difficult to find the pure concentrate of worship among all of the dilution that surrounds it. 19-year- old Amy knew what it was made of, though. She knew that the heart of worship took on a posture of surrender. She found it clearly displayed in scripture as David chose sacrifice even when his position didn’t demand it. Without regard for his own throne, the king of Israel insisted on his worship costing him something.

Read through 2 Samuel 24. David comes to a place where he measures the strength of the nation he leads by the sum of their humanity rather than by the faithfulness of their God. His heart is instantly pricked once the measurement is complete. Alongside the conviction, consequences follow the sin. An altar must be built. Sacrifices must be made. Worship is in order.

There are so many beautiful and insightful applications to be pulled from the story found in 2 Samuel 24. But, the simplest take away is this: Our friend David refused to offer a sacrifice that didn’t cost him anything. We learned from Abraham and Isaac that sacrifice and worship are synonymous. Thus, one may conclude that worship comes at a price and it takes more than a lifted hand to accomplish it. Performing the action of sacrifice means very little if no other part of your being is invested in the expression. It requires the engagement of the heart; the bowing of the will. A lifted hand absent of a lifted heart holds an empty offering. Motive matters.

Somewhere in the laundry lists of to-dos and lets-shoot-fors of ministry, I lost sight of the simple, one-bullet-point list of why we do any of it. To run the risk of pulling out an old Christian cliche, I found myself cumbered about with much serving without taking time at His feet. Call me Martha.

I’m reminded of the wise words spoken over my friends’ lives and mine one night from the heart of a missionary: “the only thing you have to lose is yourself.” As long as we are constantly bowing our hearts in surrender to Him, our lives will be worship, no matter how much or how little of the to-do list gets checked off. Ministry and worship are not a collection of projects. Serving Jesus is simply getting so close to Him that you start to act like Him.

So what has your worship cost you today? What is the currency of it? Finances, time, talent, career, education, relationships, life; it can all take the form of worship when we place it on an altar of surrender. Living our lives in a vertical motion is the sweetest oil we can offer the King; doing all as unto Him.