The One Thing...

In reading through the book of 2 Kings, this phrase keeps recurring: "He did right in the sight of the Lord...only the high places were not taken away; the people still sacrificed and burned incense on the high places" (2 Kings 14:3-4). In other words, this particular king--and each king of Judah for whom this was written--made choices that pleased God, but he failed to do the one thing that would have pleased God most. What was that one thing? To replace man's worship with God's worship. The people of Judah chose to worship God in the places they chose, the high places rather than Jerusalem, before two golden calves. It became so routine that even Godly kings did not question the practice.

I was struck with how easy it is for me to justify a "lesser" worship because it is more convenient, it seems to meet God's basic requirements, because it is the way God's people around me worship, because, because, because.... And yet, what is that one thing that God desires of me? What is that practice that is more important to Him than any other thing I do, or give up, or change? In my life, in the practice of the American church at large, perhaps around the world, is it not that I worship at the altar of self, the altar of man, rather than the altar of God? I am more concerned about what other think of my apparel, of my personal sacrifice, of my singing voice (or lack thereof), of my possessions or influence than in coming broken, contrite, and empty before a holy, thundering, righteous God.

To my shame there are times God receives nothing at all from my worship, because the focus is nowhere near His throne--it is centered on a high place removed from His place of residence--offering sacrifices to a dumb, mute object of self-importance. Not only in corporate worship, but in personal worship, there must be a break from self, a break from others, and I must make the trek to His temple.

Making that trek means leaving things behind. It requires commitment. It takes time and effort. It may even be costly. But as God calls me to His throne, which is itself a breathtaking invitation, is any price too high? The journey is one borne out of dependence on a God who does not ask what He will not provide. And knowing that His Son, Jesus, is my means of entry, I make that trek, abandoning self. Then, as I enter His presence, I am reminded of His awesome comeliness, of His very Self that cannot be seen, of His Self-sustaining nature and there is room for nothing on my part but humility, awe, and poverty. I would trade a high place for this? Only then do I realize the inadequacy, the filth, of that one thing I treasured for so long. And it is then that I am filled, that worship is what is was always intended to be: the heart and will of an imperfect creature bent at the throne of the Almighty Creator Sustainer.