Worship In Joy And In Sorrow

Worship In Joy And In Sorrow

“But many of the priests and Levites and heads of fathers’ houses, old men who had seen the first house, wept with a loud voice when they saw the foundation of this house being laid, though many shouted aloud for joy so that the people could not distinguish the sound of the joyful shout from the sound of the people’s weeping, for the people shouted with a great shout, and the sound was heard far away” (Ezra 3:12-13).

They worshipped with both joy and sorrow. There was a group of old men among those returning from the seventy years of captivity in Babylon—priests, Levites, and elders. These wept when they saw the foundations. It does not say why they wept, but they were the ones who had seen Solomon’s Temple in all its majesty. They may be weeping because the new temple is so humble by comparison, mourning the loss of the former magnificence. Perhaps they weep knowing that it was their sin that led to the destruction of that more beautiful temple. 

Others shouted for joy. Likely, these were those who had been born in Babylon. They had never had a temple of their own. So even those humble beginnings are an amazing source of rejoicing. 

There was weeping and there was rejoicing, mixed together in their worship. They were so that you could not distinguish the shouts of joy from the wails of weeping. 

Our worship will always contain elements of weeping and of rejoicing. We weep over what is unfinished; we rejoice over what has begun. We weep over our still lost children; we rejoice over  those already saved. We weep over our remaining diseases; we rejoice over the healings we have known. We weep for our departed family and friends; we rejoice over friends and family with us still. We weep over our sin; we rejoice over our forgiveness: past, present, and future. 

Here in this life our worship will always have these two parts: joys and sorrows. We worship best when our congregation is such a mixture: those who thank the LORD in joy, and those who beseech the Lord with tears. And, really, every emotion in-between. 

To worship in spirit and truth also means to worship from our hearts as they truly are. We may dress up our outsides for worship, but we dare not dress up our hearts, trying to disguise their true condition from the Lord. If we mourn, we come broken-hearted, looking for the Lord to encourage us. If we are worried, we bring our worries to him, asking for his help. If we are joyful, we bring him our joyful hearts. 

Together then, as one congregation, we sing to the Lord with a kind of spiritual harmony. The low basses of sorrow, the high sopranos of joy. The mixed emotions of the tenors and altos. We worship in a spiritual harmony that only God hears perfectly. We cannot distinguish the undertones, but he can. And such heartfelt worship delights our Father!

That day, as the foundations of the temple were laid, God’s people worshipped in joy and in sorrow. Let us worship, bringing our whole hearts—as they truly are—to our Lord.