God’s Performance Review?

I’m finding it easier to praise God these days. And why not? Things are going really well for the Vickerys right now. We’ve been blessed with an opportunity to re-enter full time ministry with an amazing church, we’re in excellent health, our kids are all doing well, and just last night, we had a long-overdue dinner with two of our oldest and dearest friends. When the blessings are flowing, it’s easy to praise the God from whom they come. So does that mean that praise and prosperity share a proportional relationship — the more you’re prospered, the more you’re able to praise?

To put it another way, is my praise to God essentially his performance review? Or even more baldly, does God earn my praise by blessing me?

On the one hand, it makes sense that the more you’re blessed, the more you praise God. In Psalm 18, David pushes his considerable liturgical abilities to their limits to praise God for delivering him from his enemies. “The Lord lives! Praise be to my Rock! Exalted be God my Savior!” Divine intervention requires human exclamation. And what kind of disciples would we be if we didn’t wind up our worship in response to what God has done?

But on the other hand, David vowed to praise God not just when he was in the winner’s circle, but all the time. “I will extol the Lord at all times; his praise will always be on my lips,” (Psalm 34:1). Paul urged his readers to rejoice continually and to give thanks in all circumstances (1 Thess. 5:16-18). So why do we find it harder to lift up holy hands in the hard times?

Maybe a part of the problem is how we define praise itself. For the last couple of decades (or more), worship to God has been evolving into more of an event and less of a lifestyle. Praise has become the province of specialists, an arena for artistically gifted brothers and sisters, and the territory of the technologically savvy. It’s as common to have a full sensory experience in church these days (complete with fireworks, lights, lasers, smoke and images) as it is at a Def Leppard concert. Well, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much.

Don’t get me wrong here — I’m not a liturgical Luddite. Using the latest technology in the service of celebrating God is a good thing if it draws us closer to Him and enables us to see His glory. I LOVE being a part of an all out, burn the house down, rock the rafters, and shake, rattle and roll the righteous worship service. But if we don’t feel like we’ve worshipped unless we’ve been to a 21st century recreation of the fire and light show at Sinai, maybe we’re missing something.

A few years ago, an older elder (read conservative), came up to me after a rather typical Church of Christ worship service. It had not been a rock concert. By some estimates, it had actually been pretty boring. Nothing special happened. There were no fireworks. But he had a tear in his eye. He said, “That’s the most moving worship service I’ve ever been a part of.” As I recall, we had spent our time that morning focused on the cross.

Praise doesn’t have to be all trumpets and cymbals. Sometimes, it is a silent tear tracing its way down a wrinkled face.

The other reason I think we struggle to praise God all the time, not just when we’re living life like a boss, is because our worship is more about us than God. More about how we feel than who He is. That may come across a little strong and, perhaps, even preachy. The reason I think it’s true is because of the first sentence in this post: I’m finding it easier to praise God these days.

Recently, I was raising the roof in my car, busting out an epic praise chorus as I drove down the road listening to Hillsong, one hand in the air, head bobbing like a pigeon perched on a New York skyscraper. I didn’t even know I was doing it until I caught the guy next to me at the stop light pointing the business end of his smart phone in my direction. Nothing kills a good glory buzz like a cell phone.

The light turned green, I went my way, Mr. Invade My Private Worship Moment went his, but I was totally unable to recover my veneration grove. What God gave me, instead, was a moment of introspection.

Why are you so eager to praise me now but found it so difficult a few months ago? What changed?

Well, all the stuff that follows the first sentence in this post. A lot of really good things started happening. To me. My praise for God was totally dependant on how I felt about how He was doing his job. It was about me; not Him. My worship had become little more than God’s performance review.

In Psalm 7:17, David wrote, “I will give thanks to the Lord because of His righteousness and will sing praise to the name of the Lord Most High.” Gratitude not for what he does for me, but for who He is. Praise not because I feel blessed, but because His name is holy.

Today, when you enter the worship service, you don’t have to feel like the king of the world to successfully worship the Lord of Lords. You don’t have to have an epic experience to experience a moment of eternal significance. And you don’t have to be living an insanely prosperous, happy life to add your voice to those who sing God’s praises. Even if all your hallelujahs are broken, you belong among those who go up to the house of the Lord. Because it isn’t about how things are going or how you’re feeling; it’s about who He is.