Worship

Start with the scene. A woman comes to a well at midday, and Jesus ends up in a conversation with her about the oldest argument in town: where is the right place to worship? Her people say one mountain. The Jews say Jerusalem. It's a fair question. It's also a handy way to keep God at arm's length by turning prayer into a debate about logistics.

Jesus' answer in John 4:21-24 changes the whole conversation. A time is coming, and in fact has already come, when the place won't be the main issue. Then comes a line that's easy to skim past: the Father is seeking worshipers. Worship doesn't begin with us climbing toward God. It begins with God reaching toward us. In Foster's separately published essay on worship, worship is a response to God's initiative. That's good news if you've ever felt like worship was a performance you had to pump up.

The Greek word for worship here, proskuneo, carries the picture of bowing down, leaning toward someone greater in respect. It starts as a posture of the whole person, and a feeling may or may not follow. Then Jesus says worship happens 'in spirit and truth.' Spirit points to worship that isn't tied to a building and is made possible by God's own Spirit. Truth points to honesty and to the real God, not an imagined one. Hype and pretending both fall short of that.

This is where Foster's regard for ordinary worship matters. In that essay, Foster values everyday, faithful worship and doesn't treat spectacular experiences as the necessary proof that worship is real. Scripture gives plenty of backing. Habakkuk 3:17-18 imagines empty fields and empty pens, and the prophet still rejoices in the Lord. In Psalm 42 a downcast soul talks to itself and aims its hope at God anyway. Hebrews 13:15 calls praise a sacrifice, which means it sometimes costs something and doesn't always feel good.

That doesn't make feelings the enemy. Joy, awe, and tears often show up in worship, and they're welcome. The trouble starts when the feeling becomes the goal and we grade a Sunday by how it moved us. Then God quietly becomes a means to a buzz. Faithfulness says something different: I'm here because he is worthy, and he was seeking me before I arrived.

Look again at the woman at the well. Jesus met her at a well, not in the worship place she was debating. She had a conversation about her real life, met Jesus in it, and went back to town as a witness. Worship that meets the truth sends you out changed.

So ask yourself a plain question this week: what would worship look like if showing up faithfully mattered more than feeling something?