When Praise Becomes Performance: The Reasonableness of Worship





There is an interesting question that the Church must continually be willing to confront: At what point does a praise session gradually cease to be an expression of worship and become an exercise in entertainment?
Consider a typical praise session at a Christian gathering. A ten-minute seben interlude takes centre stage, with the worship leader coordinating different dance styles, directing the congregation and enthusiastically asking, "Unachezanga wapi?"
The congregation is on its feet. The energy is high. Everybody seems to be having a wonderful time.
But here is the question: How much of that time has actually been spent singing about God, and how much has been spent dancing?
Sometimes, the words of the song are sung almost hurriedly, as though they are an inconvenient interruption to the dancing. The musical interlude becomes the main event, while the actual message of the song takes a back seat.
And this ought to get us thinking!
You see, as one grows in Christ, one gradually develops an appetite for what I would call the Reasonableness of Christianity.

One becomes increasingly concerned not merely with whether something is permissible, but whether it is actually consistent with the pleasure and honour of Christ.

The question gradually changes from "Is there anything wrong with doing this?" to "Is this actually pleasing to Christ?"

You begin to appreciate that loving Christ means wanting to ensure that the reason behind everything you do is ultimately to please Him.

This may even require auditing practices that have become so normalised within Christianity that nobody thinks to question them anymore. Such practices must be examined and filtered through the lens of what is reasonable in light of Christ's pleasure.

Music and dancing in praise and worship is one such area.

Let me be clear.

This is not an argument against seben music or dancing in the house of God. There is absolutely nothing inherently wrong with celebrating God through music and bodily expression.

The issue is that with God, MANNER is greater than FORM.

How something is done, and more importantly, the heart and intention behind it, matters far more than the mere presence of a recognisable religious activity.

The presence of a recognisable Christian activity does not automatically guarantee the presence of a recognisable Christian purpose.

I would therefore appeal to our esteemed worship leaders to become more deliberate in discerning when a praise session is gradually degenerating into a gym or Zumba class.

That something makes people happy does not necessarily mean it is right.

That a room is full of energy does not mean that it is full of the presence of God. Excitement is not the same thing as edification.

There must be an awareness of when the consciousness of God is gradually ebbing away and entertainment is beginning to take centre stage. This is a distinction that worship leaders ought to be able to recognise.

It is worth acknowledging that worship leaders are often taught and trained in the art of congregational engagement. They learn how to read a room, build momentum, sustain participation and create memorable musical experiences.

These are undoubtedly useful skills.

However, engagement that is detached from the active consciousness of God is ultimately an exercise in futility.

We cannot become so successful at engaging the congregation that we lose sight of the One with whom the congregation ought to be engaged.

Additionally, some of these elaborate dance routines require an extraordinary degree of physical and mental coordination. Participants are simultaneously concentrating on choreography, responding to musical cues, following the worship leader's instructions and executing increasingly complex movements.

At what point, then, does one summon the reverence and intentionality necessary for engaging God?

We must be honest enough to distinguish between dancing as an expression of worship and dancing as an activity that has gradually become an end in itself.

If Christ be anything, He must be everything.

He cannot be the opening reference of a praise session and then gradually become a background consideration as entertainment takes over.

He cannot be the stated reason for our gathering while everything we actually do is designed around keeping people entertained.

At that point, we must be honest with ourselves. We are simply playing. Our activities, no matter how eloquently defended, have lost their ultimate purpose.

In the final analysis, apart from Christ, we can do nothing.

Put another way: Apart from Christ, we are not doing anything.

Yet another way: Apart from His consciousness, all other ground is sinking sand.

The ultimate objective of praise and worship is not to produce an excited congregation, but to direct an engaged congregation towards Christ.

May we never become so preoccupied with the mechanics of worship that we lose sight of the One we are supposed to be worshipping.