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- Written by: Don Goulding
I will celebrate before the LORD. I will become even more undignified than this, and I will be humiliated in my own eyes. (2 Samuel 6:21-22) (NIV)
In West Africa they use a method of collecting offerings I call boogie for bucks. The worship band cuts loose with a beat that would make a Buckingham Palace guard tap his foot. Men, women, and children in bright Sunday finery form a Conga line and dance past the offering box, where they drop off the goods.
On a Sunday forever etched into my memory, I visited a church that added a twist to boogie for bucks. Eager to demonstrate my grasp of their culture, I joined the line, money in hand.
It was somewhere past the box, as I shook my bootie in place, that several observations stole over me. First, compared to the other worshipers, I was painfully rhythm challenged. Second, everyone watched me. Third, the men were still seated and only the women danced with me. There was nothing to do except boogie all the long way around the church and back to my chair, and enjoy my lesson in humility.
Whether it’s boogie for bucks or singing hymns, one of the richest gifts to earthbound saints is corporate worship. I may exalt God privately all week but I still love to gather with believers for celebration. It’s like a sip from the throne room in heaven.
What matters during group worship is not if our service is traditional or contemporary, but if it is genuine. Nothing is as boring as false liturgy or fake ecstasy. I’d rather be moved by the King of Kings until I transcend caring what others think. That’s dignified worship.
Prayer: Mighty God, help me lose myself in worship of you.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
But you must return to your God,
by maintaining love and justice,
and by waiting for your God to return to you. (Hosea 12:6)
An Australian electrician took his annual holiday in the nearby Fiji Islands. He met a pretty seventeen-year-old girl named Joy and promised to marry her. She got pregnant. He ran back to Australia.
A year later, the electrician returned for another holiday of parties with minor-aged girls.
Joy confronted him. “This baby is yours, and the least you could do is help with food and diapers.”
He fled once again and left the young mother to her tears and poverty.
Dani and I tried to get justice for Joy. We met with legal counsel, waited in courtrooms, and attempted service of the summons for a paternity test. The judge berated Joy for bad decisions until she gave up in tears.
We live in a universe of absolute justice, but it is delayed justice. That electrician didn’t get away with anything and neither do I when I sin. Every misdeed is written into the books John saw in Revelation 12. We are accountable for every moment.
Joy taught me a lesson. She knew when to release her perpetrator into God’s hands. Where the human judicial system failed her, Jehovah’s great white throne will prevail. The biblical promise that every action will be judged frees me from tracking the guilt of others. I can, instead, focus on repenting from my own sins.
Joy and I have a huge advantage over the electrician. Every sin we commit is transferred to the cross of our Savior. “Unjust,” some would cry. Indeed, it is unjust that innocent Jesus suffered for guilty us. But it’s the one injustice permitted by heaven.
Prayer: Jesus my righteous Judge, I rest in your justice.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
The Hungarian countryside was like those repeating backgrounds in cartoons. In a hamlet of tile roofed houses, we negotiated a horse plodding before a cart heaped with manure. Regaining the open road, we passed a farmer and his smock clad wife pitchforking compost around verdant crops. Then the scenes repeated with humorous predictability.
The key to Hungary’s agricultural triumph is organic fertilizer. While other countries spew chemicals, Hungarians have mastered the art of repurposing animal waste. I say it’s an art because spread too thinly the plants starve, whereas an application that’s too thick burns crops under the potency.
Raising up a harvest of salvation is much the same. In Hungary, and in other places, I’ve witnessed the impact of using monetary resources to support the gospel. If insufficient funds are given, God’s message starves. If money is indiscriminately heaped on, the gospel burns under materialism.
Not too thin, not too thick, simply means that in addition to sending finances, I also work alongside the locals. I am undeservedly privileged to spend time in their world. What a blessing to know the true artists of gospel fertilizer whom I can support with prayer, finances, and encouragement.
Prayer: Lord of the harvest, it is an honor to pray and pay for workers.