When He Comes Into the Room...

In church culture, especially worship, a lot of references are made to “the presence of God.” I’ve accepted this phrase as just part of Christianese – the dialect that most Christians come to adopt, a language full of phraseology and vocabulary that are very common to the Christian experience that people on the “outside” may or may not understand. But lately, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about what that phrase means. “The presence of God.” What is it? What does IT do?

Presence is the state of existing, occurring, or being present in a place or thing. So when we say we experience or feel the “presence of God,” we mean, basically, that God is there. When God is there, something happens. Things shift. Faith rises. The impossible seems possible. The atmosphere changes. Depression lifts. Miracles occur. Why? Because the creator of the universe is there. It's not some mystical thing. The Bible says in Matthew 18:20 that when a few are gathered together, God is right there in the middle of it.

I’ve noticed that a lot of times when we have prolonged session of worship, the Lord tends to move in a common vein. At my church, City of Life, we used to have a Wednesday service that was devoted strictly to worship for about six months straight. In our ADD culture, you’d think that six months of weekly 90-minute worship sessions may tend to get repetitive or stale. However, God did something unique and different in each service. From listening to other worship leaders talk, I think this is a common experience. For instance, in one session of worship the focus may be on healing. Or on another night, the focus may be on liberty.

So what is it about our worship, when God's presence is there, that draws out specific elements of God’s character and nature and enables us to have a unique experience with Him? The only way I can really think of it is to parallel it to preparing for the presence of a human being. After all, God patterned us like Himself when he made us in His image.

When I’m about to enter a group of people who have gathered for a purpose, whether it’s for a party, or a meeting, or a church service, I go in with an attitude, with certain expectations of what will happen, and with a mindset prepared toward their expectations of what my role in the group will be. For instance, if I’m preparing to go into a party, I know that I’m going to need to be lighthearted and fun, no matter how crappy my day has been, or else everyone will be thinking to themselves, "What's wrong with her?" If I’m going into a work meeting, I know I’d better be prepared to voice my opinions, present items that I’ve been asked to prepare, and come with my best, most creative ideas. If I’m having lunch with my best friend, I can prepare to laugh, cry, or do both, because the atmosphere is such. I wouldn’t go into a party with a meeting attitude. And I certainly wouldn’t go into a meeting with a party attitude!

So, when we have a church service, where many people are gathered for a variety of reasons, the atmosphere that we set can draw out different aspects of God’s character and personality. I’ve been in services that seemed like a party. In these situations, it makes sense that God would enter our “party” with a party-like attitude, bringing freedom, liberty, and joy. The atmosphere has been set. The demand has been placed on which side of his personality should be present. And he moves. And it's not like God is Sybil, either, that we just cross our fingers and hope the right one of His multiple personalities shows up. But just as you are capable of being serious at times, then at other times sensitive and empathetic, and then again at other times hard and stern, so is God. There are different aspects to who He is. When He comes, he brings his whole self. He is fully and completely available to us. And He can surely minister joy to some while concurrently ministering love to another and healing to yet another. But the atmosphere determines the general move...

I think the unity of the saints is so vital to a move of God when we're in His presence. If I come to church because I'm forced to, while someone else comes to church because they expect the act of going to church to somehow free them of the guilt they've accumulated for actions done in the week leading up to the service, and yet others come because they want to worship the Lord, then we've got a mixed bag here. If we all come into worship for the same reason and purpose, whatever that may be, then the atmosphere is solid, the expectation is sure, and God will truly move.

When was the last time we walked into a service with a common, united expectation? When we truly expected the supernatural to occur, instead of letting services pass us by week after week and seeing no evident change? Have we come with our minds, attitudes, and focus set on making the atmosphere one in which God feels comfortable to sit right down in the middle of? Have we placed a demand on the Lord by setting the tone, preparing our hearts, and expecting BIG things? These are questions that are challenging me right now. It's not enough to sail along on the faith of your worship leader or pastor. They can't believe for the miraculous for you. Their job is to guide the worshipers into God's presence and then just step aside so that He can do what He wants to do. Unite with your leaders. That's my heart. No longer will I look to my pastors and worship leaders to do the expecting for me.

What I Believe About Leading Worship

For the past two weeks I've been on vocal rest, as ordered by my doctor. I had been feeling achy and strange after singing, so I visited an ENT and they told me that I showed signs of what could develop into nodules, a singer's worst nightmare. For the past two weeks, I've still stood in my place on the stage every service, four services a week. I've held the mic. I've been under the lights. But I haven't been able to make a sound. This whole experience has been one of the most challenging things I've ever gone through. I don't think I'd trade it for anything, though, because it's given me an opportunity to really think about what I believe when it comes to worship.

I believe that for too long, we've embraced a celebrity mentality when it comes to leading worship in a church. The idea of "being a worship leader" or "leading worship" has been glamorized. After all, it has all the makings of celebrity - stage, lights, music, microphone. The church isn't American Idol, however. This isn't our "one shot" for fame.

In this time of silence, I've realized what it means to really lead worship. True worship has nothing to do with the leader at all. To make it so is to make yourself an idol before the people. Sure, a great worship leader facilitates people entering into the presence of God. The perfect worship, in my opinion, is when every person and every heart is so captivated by the presence of God that they can't help but sing, when each person so embraces the expression of absolute adoration to the Lord that they reach for a unity with the sound of heaven.

You know those moments when the people with mics stop singing because the worshipers in the crowd are singing so loudly, so passionately, that they carry the song themselves? THAT is what every worship leader should aim for. It's not all about everyone hearing how great you can sing, or the ad-libs that you do, or the perfect words that you think of to say during the instrumental. The best worship leader is the one who can stop singing and let the people worship on their own. The best worship leader works himself or herself out of a job.

A few months ago we were singing "Revelation Song" in church and as I worshiped I saw something in the spirit that stirred me. It was as if the walls of our church building evaporated into thin air and instead of being limited by four walls, the entire stage was surrounded, front and back, side to side, by thousands and thousands of people singing "Holy holy holy/is the Lord God Almighty/Who was and is and is to come." And in the center of it all was this shining, bright light. The sound of the worship was overwhelming, deafening. And Jesus' glory was in the center of it all.

This silent experience has shown me how selfish I am, and how driven by my own agenda, my pride, my own need for position and place and recognition that I am. It's shown me how I've put myself in the center of my worship. When I sing well, when my performance meets my own standards, then I'm happy and somehow worship was "great." When I've failed, my voice cracked, my words forgotten, then worship was "bad." My worship has been about ME - idolatry in its purest form. I've had to repent many times in the past two weeks. I've wept with sorrow for wrong attitudes, wrong thoughts.

Funny, I've been able to worship in a deep, true way without singing a word. My heart has taken on the words to the songs. Instead of thinking about the way things sound, I've been thinking on the beauty of God, the attributes of his character. How stunning He is.

I'll probably be able to talk and sing in the next few days. I have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow, and he'll let me know. But I approach the day that I'll be able to use my voice again with trepidation, because I want all of the things I've learned, all of the things God's showed me, all of this burning in me to STAY. To stay real. To transform my future and WHATEVER God has for me in the future and in His church, whether it's leading worship or scrubbing toilets. He is the in middle of it all. And here am I. At His service. Totally available.