R. C. Sproul and the Worship Cohort on Worship

How Should We Then Worship?

Three-quarters of the way through the twentieth century, Francis A. Schaeffer asked the question, “How should we then live?” His book of the same name answered the questions raised by the radical shift in our culture from modernity to post-modernity. The question that we face in our generation is closely related to it: “How should we then worship?” The “how?” of worship is a hotly disputed matter in our day. The issue has been described as the war of worship. If there has been a worship war in the church in America in the last thirty years, then surely by now its outcome has been decided. Far and away, the victorious mode of worship in our day is that form roughly described as contemporary worship. “Contemporary” in this context is contrasted with “traditional,” which is seen as being outmoded, passé, and irrelevant to contemporary individuals. Those who deem the contemporary shift in worship as a deterioration are in the minority, so it behooves us to explore the “how” question that Schaeffer first raised. Read More

This Thing No One Talks About Is Having a Huge Effect on Worship

A couple of years ago, I attended a large, super savvy ministry conference with musical worship led by some of the most influential worship leaders of our day. The quality of production for the conference was top notch. But when it came time to participate in corporate worship, the room in which we gathered was so dark that one could scarcely see anything. I remember one moment at which I was particularly moved by the heartfelt singing that reverberated through the sea of people all around me, but as I looked around me to see others lifting up their sung-praise to the Lord, all I saw was pitch darkness. Were it not for the sound of voices, I would have felt totally alone in the room.

This practice is common among churches today. Corporate worship often takes place in a dark room. When the music gets going, the stage lights come up and the house lights go on black-out mode. But, please permit me to ask, What does this communicate to the congregation? What exactly are we saying about the nature of corporate worship when create environments in which we can’t even see other worshipers? Do blacked out house lights imply that Christian worship is a privatized encounter—just me and Jesus? And if so, could it be that this practice could perpetuate a consumeristic attitude about attending church? Read More

This article was originally titled "What Do Your House Lights Communicate?"