Tuesday: A Solution Through Worship?

(Posted in loving stead for Theresa by Paul)

One crisp night in April, I find myself crunching through a crusty remnant of snow along the overgrown remains of a long abandoned logging road. My tennis shoes are wet and my stomach will not let me forget the promise of warm food with close friends I have failed to keep. The mountains here are my friends, but tonight they loom as ominous sentinels over a midnight trek laced with panic and fear.

With each step, my knees alternately cling to the wet cloth of my pants, reminding me of a belated supplication to God that convicted rather than relieved. My friend might be out there suffering in his own way, and my thoughts race at a dizzying pace, driving me on. One minute we were sharing our passion of flight, the next minute lives of those I had not yet been fortunate enough to meet changed forever. Many hours later, after a final, tortured decision at a dark crossroads in a mountain clear-cut, my own salvation results in tears instead of relief. The next day, one form of suffering is replaced by another as I learn the ugly fate of my friend.

The trappings of death are often the most vivid embodiment of suffering we have. There lies an ultimate and tangible finality for the mortal, an unknown quantity that can never be shared outside of the imagination. This cold night in April and the subsequent day was my novice experience with such penetrating emotion. A terrible accident occurred and my own life was threatened, my salvation just short of miraculous. Yet God and his provision did not enter my mind until my position was an embarrassing distance from where I started. The omnipotent, loving God I’ve known since a child was not paramount in my thoughts for reasons of spiritual bankruptcy. Yet, I sought him in prayer anyway, though it left me with emptiness.

The passages selected for this week did not bring these thoughts to the surface immediately, but I believe it was inevitable they turn in this direction. As I read Jon’s post from yesterday, I also wondered how the festering of my own recent experience is evidence of God’s oft hidden work. Sinking into the snow at a higher elevation and earlier hour that April evening, I had knelt and prayed to God seeking his protection for my friend and thanking him for such mercy in a time of my life noted for its deficiency of character and faith. Perhaps this was a kind of worship, but without satisfaction due to the context of my heart and mind.

What is the link between worship, suffering, and the condition of the heart? If the effort is made to preserve the condition of the heart in a way that honors God, how does an approach to suffering change? What if I had worshipped God in the context of the life of a seeker who stumbles but looks to God instead of the world for assistance during my prayer in the snow? Lately, I’ve been seeking to break down my old life and re-center around the search for a Christian identity separate from that which I was spoon-fed as a child. This experience seems to confirm my belief in worship - through whatever form seems appropriate – as the door to incredible strength from God. Perhaps worship in the midst of our suffering and trial is one method through which, “He will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it”.