Call To Worship

Quiet.

If you listen, you can hear it. It's a crisp, cool, fall morning. The sun still hasn't risen, and the only sounds wafting up from the streets below are the occasional car making the turn at the light around the corner.

The sparrows are silent, the pigeons are absent, and except for the rhythm of the clock on the mantle, it is peaceful here in the sparrow's perch. Except for my spirit. I'm anxious for an experience with the Lord. I'm always excited to see what God will do everyday, but there is something about Wednesday and Sunday services that punch it up a notch or two. I think it's because of the corporate anointing. I can imagine our little sparrow as he sits in the framework of the Tabernacle and the call to worship is sounded during one of the many feasts the Lord commanded the Children of Israel to observe. The exhilaration of the 'shofar' being sounded, must have pierced the tiny sparrow's heart like a fowler's dart. The air would be alive with the thunderous roar as the men and women of Israel began the recited prayers, singing in unison, the wondrous story of Israel's redemption. “Oh give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good and His mercy endureth forever.”

Below the tiny Sparrow, the people carry their sacrifices into the courtyard of the Tabernacle, each signifying a desire to be forgiven, or simply to have fellowship with the Lord God. They bring their sacrifices, but leave them at the Altar. No one, but the priest, makes the journey from the altar to the inner court where the Presence of God resides. The tiny sparrow is overwhelmed with sorrow as he flits from the inner court, and outer court with ease. The once mighty kings of the earth, the ones who walked with God in the cool of the day, are now relegated to coming within feet of the Presence, and turning away.

Is it any different today?

The Presence of God is no longer contained within four walls. He has made his abode in the hearts of men, and still He is no closer than he was when he was when His glory filled the Tabernacle. The Psalmists lament can be heard today; “Who is this King of Glory?” We barely know Him. We can't seem to see Him through the mist and haze of religious order. The purchase of salvation through the atoning work of Jesus is pushed off into a nice little corner, and the exuberant joy of our redemption is buried beneath decorum.

How did we get from a garden to a closed in box?

What we fail to recognize, is that we have been purchased. We are not our own. It doesn't matter whether you believe in the Atoning work of Jesus or not, you were bought. In the end, when this world is rolled up like a scroll, it will be Jesus who decides what is to be done with you. He bought you, it is His right.

The sun is breaking on the horizon, and the sparrows are coming alive. Across the park, I can hear the unending call of crows as they scavenge the refuse of mankind. It won't be long till the men start arriving for our Men's study group. I have high hopes for the service today.

Quiet. Is that the call to worship? I am always hopeful that the call to worship will be exactly that. There is nothing quite like the power of the corporate anointing.