Carolynne's Blog

Glow in the Dark Worship—Praising God in the Pitch Black of Life

“Worship” has such a lovely, angelic sound to it, doesn’t it?

So how do I worship God when life is so pitch black that it feels like I’m lost in what the the psalmist called “the pit of destruction” and “the miry clay” (Psalm 40)? How do I glorify God when despair and sadness block out any brightness? What do I do when the God of Light seems so distant I wonder if I dreamed up the idea that God cares for me? How can I possibly offer the Lord of the universe praise when my heart hurts so much?

Thankfully, our feelings have little to do with whether we worship or not. It is our actions that provide the spark we need to push forward in times of darkness. Imagine a dimly lit room, illuminated by only the smallest glow. Now find the dimmer switch and slowly turn it up. What happens? The room becomes brighter and brighter and finally, you can see the room and its contents clearly. In this scenario, there are two steps that take place before the room is lit up. First, you find the switch, and secondly, you turn it up. Because of these actions, the room fills with light. You don’t create the light, but you enable electricity to flow and bring radiance to the space. 

The first action, or step of worship, you can take to “glow” in spiritual darkness is to remember. Faith does not exist apart from memory—it is an essential part of who we are as God’s chosen ones. The joy of faith comes from knowing where we once were, and where we are now. You are called to “proclaim the excellencies of Him who has called you out of darkness into His marvelous light” (1 Peter 2:9). Therefore, endeavor to actively recall how God has blessed you in the past and how God has worked in your life. Remember the beauty Creator God has put around you.

Memory is a powerful tool for worship. Ever wonder why older people want to sing the songs they knew when they were young? Music has the power to take us back to a memorable event or period of our lives, and it especially enables us to remember or “feel” what we were experiencing at that time. We summon hope and energy when we revisit our spiritual pasts and all that God has done for us.

The psalmist Asaph understood well the power of remembrance. He struggled with doubt about God’s love for him and honestly sang his inner thoughts,

“Will the Lord reject forever?

And will he never be favorable again?

Has His lovingkindness ceased forever?

Has God forgotten to be gracious,

Or has He in anger withdrawn His compassion?

Eventually he acknowledged, “It is my grief, that the right hand of the Most High has changed.” In other words, Asaph said, “God has not changed, but my attitude has” (and not for the better!). Once he realized this, Asaph knew the antidote for his gloom. He said,

“I shall remember the deeds of the Lord;

Surely I will remember Your wonders of old.

I will meditate on all Your work. And muse on Your deeds.”

Remember, meditate, muse. This was how Asaph worshiped during his dark trials and periods of waiting. He worshiped by thinking on the things God is doing and remembering the things God has done in history. He meditated on God’s handiwork. He mused over God’s accomplishments.

The second action you can take to worship during times of spiritual darkness is to be thankful. The point of remembering, meditating, and musing is to recall and recognize God’s goodness. Confronted by the remembrance of God’s glory and faithfulness, you will be inspired to bless and thank God. As an act of worship, deliberately thank God for specific kindnesses God has shown to you. Thank God for God’s character and attributes. Write down what you are thankful for. Sing your gratitude.

Being thankful is an act of worship that pleases God and benefits our souls. Psalm 95 urges, “Let us come before His presence with thanksgiving.” Thanksgiving ushers us into the healing, restorative company of God. Our “light and momentary troubles” (2 Corinthians 4:17) seem much smaller when we linger at the feet of the One who made us. Through thankfulness, we find joy in even the hardest trials. Paul tells us, “Be joyful always; pray continuously; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 5:18).

Remembering God’s goodness is like finding the dimmer switch on the wall of a dark, shadowy room. Being thankful is the way to turn it up. You can’t choose your trials, but you can choose how you worship through them. Choose to remember. Choose to give thanks.

If you feel alone and shrouded in darkness today, lift this blessing to the Lord who hears:

To the one who remembered us in our low estate,

His love endures forever.

and freed us from our enemies,

His love endures forever.

and who gives food to every creature.

His love endures forever.

Give thanks to the God of heaven.

His love endures forever.

Psalm 136: 23-26

Is Good Friday good?

Last night a good friend and I sang together to prepare for the Good Friday service at our church. We’re singing “Were You There,” but without the joyful last chorus, “Were you there when Christ rose up from the grave.” We’ve decided to leave it dark, ominous, uncomfortable. My friend has this amazingly beautiful tenor voice, and he quietly ends our a cappella duet with a very soft, clear, “Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?” The question just hangs in the air. It’s one of those services illuminated with only a few candles—the last candle is extinguished when they read the part about Jesus breathing his last. Everything is dark and bleak.

As a matter of fact, the African American slaves who created “Were You There,” never sang a Resurrection verse—that was added later, after the spiritual hit mainstream America. Well-acquainted with suffering, the slaves were comfortable dwelling on dark reality. 

I didn’t grow up attending a Good Friday service. Focus on the season called “Lent” just wasn’t part of my evangelical repertoire. But one day in Ft. Worth I attended an Episcopal service on Ash Wednesday and heard a wonderful sermon on the season of Lent, and why people observe this forty day period leading up to Good Friday. It’s not about religious duty, or “dead works,” to make us holier or help us earn salvation. It’s about meditating on, and calling up, the agony and suffering of Jesus. It’s about feeling what the disciples felt after their Teacher and Friend suffered a cruel and malicious death. It’s about sacrificing something in order to daily remind yourself of the self-control, love, and power Jesus had to have in order to sacrifice himself for us. It’s a time for walking through a time of devotion and remembrance in order to go deeper with the Lord.

In his book “Reliving the Passion,” Walter Wangerin, Jr. explains that, “for us, who return backward into the past, the Resurrection comes first, and through it we view a death which is, therefore, less consuming, less horrible, even less real. We miss the disciples’ terrible, wonderful preparation. Unless, as now, we attend to the suffering first, to the cross with sincerest pity and vigilant love, to the dying with most faithful care—and thus prepare for joy.”

That’s the real point of Good Friday. We prepare for joy. When we dwell on Jesus’ suffering with as much intensity and real emotion as possible, we are more awakened to the miraculous, redeeming power of the Resurrection. This week I was deeply moved when I read Luke 22:44, which describes Jesus’ condition in the hours before his arrest. Luke recounts, “being in agony He was praying very fervently; and His sweat became like drops of blood, falling down upon the ground.” Jesus sweating blood is an ugly, painful image of his humanity. Sometimes it’s easy for us as moderns to forget that the Son of God suffered human feeling and pain when he died on the cross. Contemplating the fullness of his suffering and sacrifice humbles me and gives me renewed gratitude for Christ’s abundant love for me. So yes, Good Friday is good.

So, this weekend before you put on your Easter best, may you take some time for dreadful contemplation on the death of Christ. Remember, His death was for you. And too, His victory over death. I wish you a desolate, dark Friday, that you might experience a fresh and exquisite joy this Sunday.