O Lord, our Lord, your majestic name fills the earth!
Your glory is higher than the heavens.
You have taught children and infants
to tell of your strength,
silencing your enemies
and all who oppose you.
When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers—
the moon and the stars you set in place—
what are mere mortals that you should think about them,
human beings that you should care for them?
Yet you made them only a little lower than God
and crowned them with glory and honor.
You gave them charge of everything you made,
putting all things under their authority—
the flocks and the herds
and all the wild animals,
the birds in the sky, the fish in the sea,
and everything that swims the ocean currents.
O Lord, our Lord, your majestic name fills the earth!
—Psalm 8 (NLT)
One night last week I stood on the western shore of Lake Michigan, miles away from any significant light source, and stared in absolute wonder at the sky. I’ve seen stars before, but this night was exceptionally clear—almost surreal—and this biblical hymn kept running through my mind: “Your majestic name fills the earth. Your glory is higher than the heavens.”
These ancient words we attribute to David can speak powerfully to a contemporary reality. It’s no secret that Christianity in the West is facing a season of significant challenges. People talk about shrinking worship attendance and clergy shortages; we see once-thriving congregations disappear and the buildings repurposed a hundred different ways; the news cycle includes church/state conflicts in several countries—and while there are reports of a spiritual awakening here or the return of Gen Z men to church there, the sum is anything but a convincing witness to God’s majesty. Yet, all these seem to be merely the symptoms of a root cause. I think it’s idolatry. Humans have always been tempted to give primary importance to something—anything—other than the One to whom we sing in Psalm 8: the Lord, our Lord (as Jesus reminds us), whose majesty fills the earth and whose glory is higher than the heavens.
Our idols of choice can be personal, familial, cultural, political, doctrinal, liturgical, ideological; they can be intellectually complex or as simple as “I will only attend a church with this kind of music.” No matter the source or sentiment, when anything becomes more important to us than the worship of the majestic God, revealed to us best in Jesus Christ, our faith suffers, our faith community suffers, the witness of the gospel suffers.
Music and worship leaders aren’t immune to idolatry. Those of us who are responsible for leading others’ worship need to regularly step back, have a collective moment, and allow God’s Word to be a plumb line for our faith. “Lord, our Lord, exactly how majestic and excellent is Your name?” Meditating on Scripture, like staring into a brilliantly clear night sky, puts the swirl of contemporary chaos in its rightful place and reminds us Whose we are, what we believe, and what we are called to help others experience. Worshiping the living God is the greatest antidote to any idol or ideology.
Let’s be honest: the summer months can be a time when it’s tempting to default—make sure the blanks in the worship planner are filled and let it fly on autopilot for several weeks while we let serious ministry rest. While it’s crucial for every pastor, musician, and worship leader to have time to rest, refresh, and reset, the congregation doesn’t need a break from the worship of God’s majesty! At best, we only have 52 opportunities out of 365—that’s 14% of the year—to nurture the faith of our people in corporate worship. For some this means reminding them what and Who they know and love. For others, it’s the exciting possibility to introduce them to the God of Psalm 8 and the Resurrection. Either way, the music and the words of our worship can and should be a constant reminder of God’s majesty, God’s plan and purpose, God’s justice, and God’s love.
Here are some questions I try to ask myself regularly: When I sit down to practice or to study, for whom am I doing this and why? Is it simply to learn the notes, plan the rehearsal, finish the blog, get ready for the Bible study? Or is it to (re)discover the awe and the beauty God is revealing in the music and the words? When I rehearse an ensemble, am I going to be satisfied with getting the notes and phrasings, or can I help them see the truth of the gospel revealed? When I prepare to lead worship, do I think “I can read or play that cold—I’ve got this,” or do I practice the readings and the prayers and the stanzas of the hymns, carefully looking for ways to bring the words to life? All of these are crucial questions if you and I are going to proclaim the majesty of God.
Standing underneath that night sky I was simultaneously humbled and intensely blessed. Isn’t that the biblical reaction to God? “Who am I that You are mindful of me? And yet…” I think this is why the joy of my life is having the opportunity to proclaim through music and words the majesty and glory of God—and to nurture that same joy in others through worship. I hope it is your joy as well!
