21 min

Making God bigger Two Ways News

    • Christianity

This is the second in a little three-part series thinking about different aspects of our church meetings—now that many of us are back and almost approaching normal church again. 
This is also one of the free public editions of The Payneful Truth that comes out every three weeks or so—which means that if you’re on the free list, you will have missed the first post in the series (last week) on leading better church meetings (as well as a bonus post of ‘meeting templates’ that I sent out over the weekend). Don’t mean to rub it in or anything, but there is a way you can get every post every week if you’d like to … Just hit this button and sign up. (And by so doing you’ll also help me raise support for the writing work I do.)
(And if you’d like to sign up to the every-week ‘partner’s list’, but aren’t in a position to chip in financially, just send me an email at tonyjpayne@me.com saying “Please put me on the every-week list”, and I’ll take care of it. I don’t want anyone to miss out for financial reasons.)
This week we turn to the subject of singing and making God bigger. 
Making God bigger
Is it possible for singing to make God bigger? 
The answer to that question begins back in the mists of time, when dudes with Sony Walkmen roamed the earth and I was at theological college. 
As part of my Old Testament studies in 1994, I was set the task of assessing the ‘content and function of “praise” in the Book of Psalms’. 
This was much more than an academic exercise for me. 
My years in the charismatic movement were only a bit more than decade in the rear-view mirror. And as with many aspects of my neo-pentecostal youth, I had a sneaking feeling that I might have some unlearning and re-learning to do about ‘praise’.
And so it proved to be. 
I’d always thought of ‘praise’ as a personal (or corporate) expression of adoration or devotion to God. ‘I praise you, O God’ was a way of saying “I am in awe of you; I want to express just how much I love you” and so on.
So when we all sang, “I will praise you, O God” (or “We praise your holy name”) then that’s what we were doing. We were ‘praising’. To sing it was to do it. And the more we did it, the more God was praised—hence the 40 minutes of pretty repetitive ‘I will praise you’ type songs that kicked off of the charismatic church meetings I went to in the 70s and early 80s. 
But my Moore College essay got me looking afresh at ‘praise’ in the Psalms—at what the word itself meant, and what its content and functions were. I found that it had a quite different meaning and purpose. I discovered that this definition by Mark Harding was completely accurate: 
… praise and commendation result from human assessment of another’s qualities, attributes, excellences or deeds. What is seen is advertised. It is the advertisement—the public acknowledgment and acclamation—of the attributes and excellences and deeds of another which is praise.
This is what ‘praise’ is in the psalms (and in the Bible more generally). Praise is not an expression of our gratitude or awe or adoration in response to God’s mighty deeds; it’s the advertising of those deeds to others. When the psalmist says “I will praise you”, he is announcing what is about to come next, which is the actual ‘praise’—that is, a description or narrative or declaration of some aspect of God’s great character or his saving action in the life of the psalmist. This is what ‘praise’ is: it’s letting everyone know just how excellent and ‘praiseworthy’ God is by telling forth his mighty acts.
And because God is indeed very, very praiseworthy, we’ll tend to advertise his greatness with everything we’ve got—with the lyre and the cymbals and all the other joyful-noise-makers we can throw at the situation. We’ll advertise with joy and celebration and to maximum effect. And we’ll feel gladness and appreciation and love i

This is the second in a little three-part series thinking about different aspects of our church meetings—now that many of us are back and almost approaching normal church again. 
This is also one of the free public editions of The Payneful Truth that comes out every three weeks or so—which means that if you’re on the free list, you will have missed the first post in the series (last week) on leading better church meetings (as well as a bonus post of ‘meeting templates’ that I sent out over the weekend). Don’t mean to rub it in or anything, but there is a way you can get every post every week if you’d like to … Just hit this button and sign up. (And by so doing you’ll also help me raise support for the writing work I do.)
(And if you’d like to sign up to the every-week ‘partner’s list’, but aren’t in a position to chip in financially, just send me an email at tonyjpayne@me.com saying “Please put me on the every-week list”, and I’ll take care of it. I don’t want anyone to miss out for financial reasons.)
This week we turn to the subject of singing and making God bigger. 
Making God bigger
Is it possible for singing to make God bigger? 
The answer to that question begins back in the mists of time, when dudes with Sony Walkmen roamed the earth and I was at theological college. 
As part of my Old Testament studies in 1994, I was set the task of assessing the ‘content and function of “praise” in the Book of Psalms’. 
This was much more than an academic exercise for me. 
My years in the charismatic movement were only a bit more than decade in the rear-view mirror. And as with many aspects of my neo-pentecostal youth, I had a sneaking feeling that I might have some unlearning and re-learning to do about ‘praise’.
And so it proved to be. 
I’d always thought of ‘praise’ as a personal (or corporate) expression of adoration or devotion to God. ‘I praise you, O God’ was a way of saying “I am in awe of you; I want to express just how much I love you” and so on.
So when we all sang, “I will praise you, O God” (or “We praise your holy name”) then that’s what we were doing. We were ‘praising’. To sing it was to do it. And the more we did it, the more God was praised—hence the 40 minutes of pretty repetitive ‘I will praise you’ type songs that kicked off of the charismatic church meetings I went to in the 70s and early 80s. 
But my Moore College essay got me looking afresh at ‘praise’ in the Psalms—at what the word itself meant, and what its content and functions were. I found that it had a quite different meaning and purpose. I discovered that this definition by Mark Harding was completely accurate: 
… praise and commendation result from human assessment of another’s qualities, attributes, excellences or deeds. What is seen is advertised. It is the advertisement—the public acknowledgment and acclamation—of the attributes and excellences and deeds of another which is praise.
This is what ‘praise’ is in the psalms (and in the Bible more generally). Praise is not an expression of our gratitude or awe or adoration in response to God’s mighty deeds; it’s the advertising of those deeds to others. When the psalmist says “I will praise you”, he is announcing what is about to come next, which is the actual ‘praise’—that is, a description or narrative or declaration of some aspect of God’s great character or his saving action in the life of the psalmist. This is what ‘praise’ is: it’s letting everyone know just how excellent and ‘praiseworthy’ God is by telling forth his mighty acts.
And because God is indeed very, very praiseworthy, we’ll tend to advertise his greatness with everything we’ve got—with the lyre and the cymbals and all the other joyful-noise-makers we can throw at the situation. We’ll advertise with joy and celebration and to maximum effect. And we’ll feel gladness and appreciation and love i

21 min