Disengaged Devotion Worship is not a passive, spectator exercise. The Word requires total commitment not only in the heart while sitting in a pew, but also in every aspect of our lives. by Alan Mansager
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ompare two worship scenes: It’s the seventh day of the week. Dressed rather simply, an unassuming man who looks like everyone else sits on a seashore rock, speaking and gesturing to a growing group of curious gatherers. A gust of wind wafts a scent of seaweed. Waves roll over the sand as the teacher, now just offshore in a weathered fishing boat, tells a parable about a sower scattering seed on a field littered with rocks and weeds. His manner is straightforward as he punctuates his message with warnings against lust and sin, urging the crowd to beware of wicked and adulterous generations. Quoting liberally from the Old Testament Scriptures and their prophecies, he explains that he has come not to bring harmony to this world but to separate those who would follow truth from those who are at home with traditions and the allures of the world. His listeners are spellbound by his penetrating insights and boldness. They listen intently, captivated by the incisive truth of his words. Some are convinced to change their lives. He is provocative, unlike anyone they have ever heard. Some are a bit offended. Others so seethe with anger they would like nothing more than to stone him. Sensing their hostility, he breaks away, only to be followed by a large part of the crowd wanting more. We switch now to a different teacher in another place and time.
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Restoration Times Magazine July-August 2020
It’s morning, the first day of the week. An individual wearing a white robe with gilded sleeves enters an ornate sanctuary and climbs ceremoniously to a high oak podium decorated with various symbols. Nearby a golden altar supports tiers of ivory candles. Rays of rainbow-drenched light beam through stained window glass. A red-robed choir presents a melodious chorus to the rich sounds of J.S. Bach played on a massive pipe organ. The audience rises from plush pews to repetitively chant the minister’s doxology, who then motions them to sit in unison. His euphonic voice speaks of love and grace and peace and getting along with people of all faiths. He tells the halfengaged audience they are all one in the family of humanity and must accept the great diversity of religious beliefs in the interest of love and unity with all men and with planet earth. Drawing his 20-minute homily from a snippet of a “Pauline” verse, he bids farewell to the genteel laity. Another organ number breaks into a crescendo to end the service, anticipated by a congregation looking forward to finishing the rest of the day in worldly entertainment. It’s two different modes of worship totally out of touch with each other. One is firmly planted in ancient truths and is alive, relevant, spontaneous, riveting, and life-changing. The other is stale, predictable routine, low impact, and – most importantly – filled with platitudes
and centuries of musty tradition in all its fallacies. Conditioned for Error Could they be transported back 2,000 years to stand on the seashore and listen to the Savior, most churchgoers today would be too uncomfortable to linger long. It just wouldn’t feel like “church,” so how could it be right? Our society is so accustomed to tradition in worship that anything different from what many have grown up with is rejected as heresy. Especially is that true of ingrained teachings. The centuries-old legacies handed down through the mainstream have put today’s worshiper in a spiritual straitjacket. For fear of what they might discover, most are unwilling to take their Bibles out of their closets and prove what they are told. Others simply lack the motivation to test whether what they have grown up believing is in tune with scriptural teaching. Few even take their Bibles to church services to “prove all things; hold fast that which is good,” as the noble Bereans were praised for doing (IThes. 5:21, Acts 17:11). If they did, they would quickly discover that the Bible instructs very differently from what centuries of tradition and amalgamation with other belief systems have led millions to accept as truth. How many have stopped to consider that the Savior was not a “Christian,” but a Hebrew, a Jew. He based His teachings exclusively on truths taught in the Old
