جارٍ تحميل الأرشيف الحي.
Summer in the Psalms Series (Week 1)
واصِل الاستكشاف
مرتبطة بالمقطع الكتابي أو بموضوعات مشتركة.
لم تُترجم هذه الصفحة بالكامل بعد. يظهر بعض النص أدناه أو كله بلغة English، وهي لغته الأصلية.
Welcome to a brand new series called Summer in the Psalms. Over the next six to seven weeks, we're going to explore how the Psalms address the full spectrum of human emotion. We all experience ups and downs—excited days, mournful days, times to dance and times to be reserved, times to laugh and times to cry. As Ecclesiastes reminds us, there's a time for everything. The Psalms meet us in all of these places with extraordinary beauty and depth.
There are 150 Psalms in Scripture, and I encourage you to read them. One rhythm many believers practice is reading a chapter of Proverbs each morning based on the date—if it's the fifth, read Proverbs 5. But I think equally important is reading the Psalms before bed as a way to decompress and process the stimulus we experience daily. The Psalms help us do that in a remarkable way.
Today, I want to talk with you about how we're wired for worship. Our heart over the next several weeks is to unpack what worship truly is, because worship is far more dynamic and profound than a song we sing on Sunday morning.
Songs facilitate worship, but they are not the backbone of it. When people say, "Brad, we need more singing or less singing," what they're really saying is, "The singing was worship, but the preaching was just preaching." Here's the truth: the preaching is supposed to lead us to worship.
The ultimate goal of preaching is not to give you information you didn't have before. I know some of you disagree, but hear me out. The ultimate goal is for you to come to the end of yourself, to see Jesus in a new way, and to have a fresh revelation of who He is. That is worship.
Most people think church is about learning something new. Learning is part of it, but learning combined with revelatory knowledge of God is how we worship Him more deeply.
Throughout Scripture, we see God revealing Himself progressively. To Abraham, He was Elohim—the God who created everything. To Moses, He revealed Himself as Yahweh—"I am that I am," the God who is exactly who He says He is. As they journeyed through the wilderness, they discovered He was the God who makes a way where there is no way, the God who heals, the God who "lifts up a banner" before you—meaning He goes before you and fights on your behalf before you even show up.
Then Jesus arrives on the scene and utterly transforms everything. The religious establishment couldn't even write God's name or speak it aloud. But Jesus teaches us to pray, "Our Father..." He calls God Father—an intimacy that scandalized the religious leaders. He declared, "Before Abraham was, I am," claiming the very name of God Himself.
When we understand the names of God differently, when we encounter Him in fresh ways, worship naturally follows. We see our desperate need for Him. We see Christ in a new light. We become hungrier for Him than before.
I want every one of you to achieve your goals. I bless you in Jesus' name and pray you're more successful than you've ever dreamed. But more than that—infinitely more—I want you to see Jesus. I want you to see Him in a new light and understand how deeply He loves you, how much He cares for you, how thoughtful He is toward you.
We're all a mess sometimes. Some days you've got it, some days you don't. Some days you wake up and realize that one of God's greatest blessings isn't a fancy car—it's a pillow that doesn't hurt your neck when you sleep! We're all over the map emotionally. That's why the Psalms are so crucial. They're God's special playlist for navigating the full range of human feeling.
There's a profound quote from David Foster Wallace, an atheist philosopher and writer. In a 2005 commencement speech, he said:
"In the day-to-day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshiping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what we worship... Pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive."
He goes on: "If you worship money and things, you will never have enough. Worship your body and beauty, and you will always feel ugly. When age shows, you will die a million deaths."
What Wallace recognized, even without faith, is that everyone is built for worship. We are hardwired for it.
The prophet Isaiah says it this way:
"The people whom I formed for myself, that they may declare my praise." (Isaiah 43:21)
Jesus taught:
"No one can serve two masters... You will love one or hate the other." (Matthew 6:24)
He was talking about mammon—the spirit of the age, the worldly mindset. You cannot put all your eggs in both baskets. You will end up worshiping one or the other.
Jonathan Edwards, the great revivalist, taught that every person has a hidden throne in the innermost chamber of their heart. At various times, different things sit on that throne.
Thomas Chalmers, an old Puritan, wrote something called "The Expulsive Power of a New Affection." He said you can't dethrone an idol simply by willpower—by declaring, "I'm done with you." The only way to dethrone an idol is with a greater affection. Something has to swoop into your life and dethrone it.
When the Lord rushes into our hearts, He wants to sit in that throne room because He recognizes that we are built for this. And when praise enters our lives, it recalibrates our hearts.
Worship is communal—it's a back-and-forth dialogue. You say, "Lord, I love You," and He responds, "I loved you first." But here's what I've noticed: when we leave a worship service, we often judge it based on how we felt, not how God felt.
"How was the service?" "It was great." "Why?" "I just felt it. I felt the presence." "How did God feel?" "I don't know; I didn't ask Him."
Now, there's a piece of truth in this. You can never love on God without Him loving on you in return. But we have to be careful that worship doesn't become all about us—it must be about Him.
Praise, however, is different. There are times you praise where you don't experience an emotional breakthrough. It's one-directional: you give, regardless of what you feel.
I hate praise because it requires getting uncomfortable. It's not about Brad and how Brad feels. I like my little zone, my decaf ice coffee, staying in my corner. But God says, "Put your coffee down and engage—because you need it. It recalibrates you."
Praise is God's gift to you, not to Him.
God is self-sufficient. He's omniscient—all-knowing. He's omnipresent—everywhere at once. He doesn't need your strength to become stronger, your intelligence to become smarter, or your adoration to inflate His ego. If God asks us to praise, it's entirely for us, not for Him.
Why? Because praise points us back to Him. It reminds us: God is God. He is enough. I belong to Him.
Feelings are a terrible leader, but they're an incredible counselor. Don't ignore your emotions—they're signals telling you something's right or wrong. But don't let them lead you either.
The culture around us says, "Follow your heart." The Bible says, "Lead your heart."
You declare truth. You speak it. You pray it. You declare it again. Throughout Scripture, we see praise happening before, during, and after every situation—not because people felt like it, but because they chose it.
One of the most controversial modern worship songs contained the line, "Your love never lets me down." Some pastors changed the words, arguing: "We shouldn't tell people God's love will never let them down because sometimes they feel let down."
But here's what I said in response: when's the last time you sang a praise song because you felt that way? I sing praise songs because I believe them theologically—because I know that God has never let me down in all my life.
You might have felt let down many times. You prayed for healing or provision, and God seemed silent. But when you look back with hindsight, you realize, "God was faithful. He showed up. He was there the whole time. I just couldn't see it."
So when you come to church and say, "I just don't feel it today," let me be direct: you need to praise when you don't feel like it. Don't pretend to be a "fake Christian." Show up. Lead your heart. Declare what's true.
Could you imagine a leader saying every Sunday, "I'm not feeling it today, so we'll stand in silence for 30 minutes"? No. Leadership demands that you show up, even on the days you don't feel inspired. The day-to-day operation requires you to walk through ups and downs.
Praise when you don't feel like it. I don't feel like it, but I'm going to praise. I don't feel like it, but I'm going to live. I don't feel like it, but I'm going to declare what's true.
Look at Scripture: praise appears everywhere. King Jehoshaphat faced an overwhelming military situation. His strategy? "Send the worshippers out first." His army thought he was crazy—but he believed God. Praise went before the battle.
Paul and Silas sat in prison in the middle of the night. They prayed and praised, and the walls shook with an earthquake.
Moses led the people across the Red Sea. They sang the Song of Moses in celebration.
Before, during, after—it's always praise. Why? Because praise recalibrates our hearts to the One who loves us most.
Here's something else: in our prayer times, we spend a fraction of the time thanking and praising God. Pray for 15 minutes? I'd guess 10 or more are spent anguishing over requests. "God, please... bless my mom, bless my dad..." Then we pray the same petition for 17 more days straight.
Jesus taught that people think they'll be heard "for their many words." Instead, be persistent with your praise. Once you've asked God, thank Him for already answering. If you prayed, "God, heal me," don't go back every day saying, "Heal me, please heal me." Instead: "Thank You, Lord, that You've already done it. Thank You that You heard me. Thank You that You're bringing the provision."
Because God is a God who answers prayer. God is faithful. He is good.
Jesus is the perfect worshipper. He sang the Psalms. He trusted the Father completely. When John the Baptist hesitated to baptize Him, saying, "I should be baptized by You," Jesus responded, "No, it must be this way," because He trusted the Father.
Even on the cross, Jesus quoted the Psalms: "My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?" He went through the full gamut of human emotion so He could empathize with every single one of us.
Because of His sacrifice, we are accepted when we come to God. When we praise, we're not trying to get God to move on our behalf. We're thanking Him and reminding ourselves that because of Jesus, He's already moving on our behalf.
The Psalms begin with Psalm 1: a blessed man who does not walk in the counsel of the ungodly, does not sit in the seat of scoffers, does not stand in the path of sinners—but delights in the law of the Lord. Walk. Stand. Sit. A good way to remember the progression of compromise!
But Psalm 150, the final Psalm, shows us the culmination. It opens with "Hallelujah"—which literally means "Praise God! Praise Yahweh!"
"Praise the Lord in His sanctuary. Praise Him in His mighty heavens. Praise Him for His mighty deeds. Praise Him according to His excellent greatness. Praise Him with trumpet sound, with lute and harp, with tambourine and dance, with strings and pipe, with loud clashing cymbals!"
When you read this with understanding of the Hebrew, it's emphatic and explosive. It says, "Get out of yourself! Hallelujah! God is awesome!"
Then comes the crescendo:
"Let everything that has breath praise the Lord!"
Not just in the sanctuary. Not just during the musical numbers. Everything that has breath—your lungs, your voice, your life—praise Him.
Today, I want to invite you to loosen up. I don't care if you don't like to sing. You never have to sing after you leave here. But for this moment, I want you to free yourself.
Take a deep breath in and out. If you were able to do that, you have breath in your lungs. And the Psalmist says:
"Let everything that has breath praise the Lord."
So let's praise Him together this morning. Let's worship.
