What if the World Is Looking for What the Church Has Forgotten?
By Alicia Jones-Lumbuz
Allen P. Ross, in the introduction to Recalling the Hope of Glory, cites Malcolm Muggeridge’s sobering observation that modern culture is consumed with a quest for transcendence through music, the arts, drugs, mysticism, and countless other experiences. Ross then asks a question that should challenge every worship leader and congregation:
“Does [Christian worship] offer what people are seeking—the element of mystery, the sense of the numinous, and, in biblical language, the ‘fear of God’… so that we ‘bow down before the infinitely great transcendence,’ the mixture of awe, wonder, and joy called worship?” His conclusion is striking: “The answer to this question is ‘not very often.’” (Ross, n.d., 40)
As I reflected on this statement, I immediately thought about one of the central findings of my dissertation on worship in multicultural Seventh-day Adventist churches. Many believers today are not rejecting worship because they desire entertainment more than God. Rather, they are searching for an authentic encounter with Him. The tragedy is that churches often respond by choosing one of two extremes: either emotional excitement without theological depth or rigid formality without heartfelt engagement.
Scripture presents a different picture. When Isaiah encountered God, he cried, “Woe is me!” (Isaiah 6:5). When John saw the glorified Christ, he “fell at His feet as though dead” (Revelation 1:17). Yet David also declared, “Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling” (Psalm 2:11). Biblical worship always holds together reverence and joy, holiness and celebration, transcendence and intimacy.
One of the most significant discoveries in my research was that participants consistently redefined reverence not as silence, restraint, or one preferred musical style, but as a sincere posture of the heart before God. Reverence was understood as authentic submission to God’s presence rather than conformity to cultural expectations. This finding challenges the assumption that preserving reverence requires preserving a particular worship culture. Instead, reverence is preserved whenever God’s holiness remains central.
Holiness Does Not Have Only One Cultural Sound
Over the years, I have witnessed congregations facilitate an awareness of God’s holiness in beautifully different ways. In some congregations, particularly those shaped by European and traditional Protestant worship practices, the service may begin quietly. The organ or piano plays as worshipers enter the sanctuary. There may be a deliberate call to worship followed by a carefully chosen hymn whose text directs the congregation toward the character and majesty of God. Scripture is read slowly and without hurry. A pastoral prayer creates space for confession, gratitude, intercession, and silence. There may even be moments when nothing is heard at all.
In that setting, the silence is not emptiness. The silence itself becomes a response. The congregation is being invited to recognize: We are in the presence of a holy God. Reverence may be expressed through bowed heads, stillness, thoughtful attention to Scripture, and the corporate singing of words that generations of Christians have sung before them.
Yet I have experienced the same attentiveness to God’s holiness in Black American and Contemporary worship contexts where reverence is expressed very differently. Scripture may be proclaimed and the congregation responds, “Amen.” A worshiper may raise a hand while another quietly weeps. A testimony of God’s faithfulness may lead naturally into a song of praise. The organ, piano, drums, or percussion may accompany a congregation that does not merely listen to the music but participates in it. The worship leader may sing a phrase and the congregation responds. People may stand, clap, lift their hands, or verbally affirm the Word as it is preached.
From the outside, such worship may appear less restrained. Yet within the congregation, these physical and vocal responses can communicate something deeply reverential: God has been faithful to us. God is present among us. God is worthy of our whole response. Here, awe is not necessarily expressed by becoming quieter. Sometimes awe becomes audible.
I have worshiped in multicultural settings where several traditions meet within the same service. A familiar hymn may begin with piano or organ and later take on the rhythmic character of Caribbean or African music. Scripture may be read in English and Spanish, allowing people to hear the Word of God through the languages that have formed their families and communities. A traditional hymn may be followed by a Black gospel song, a contemporary worship song, or music emerging from another cultural tradition.
Imagine the theological beauty of hearing Revelation 7 proclaimed in several languages and then watching people from those same cultural backgrounds worship together. The different languages are no longer interruptions to worship. They become part of the proclamation. The congregation is given a small glimpse of John’s vision of “a great multitude which no one could number, of all nations, tribes, peoples, and tongues” standing before the throne (Revelation 7:9).
In each of these settings, the outward expression is different. Yet each can direct worshipers toward the same reality: God is holy, God is present, and God alone is worthy of worship. This is why we must be careful about defining reverence primarily through our own cultural vocabulary. Silence can express awe, but silence does not possess reverence. Raised hands can express surrender, but neither does a particular physical gesture guarantee it. An organ can accompany profound worship, and so can a drum. A centuries-old hymn can proclaim the holiness of God, and so can a song born from the experience of another culture.
The question is not simply, What style are we using? The deeper questions are: Where is this worship directing our attention? What is it teaching us about God? Is Scripture shaping what we sing, pray, say, and do? And are we being drawn toward surrender before the One we have gathered to worship?
For Seventh-day Adventists, this is especially important. As a people who proclaim the three angels’ messages, we call the world to “worship Him who made heaven and earth” (Revelation 14:7). That invitation is not merely about attending church or defending worship preferences. It is a call to encounter the Creator with awe, humility, obedience, and joy.
Our increasingly multicultural congregations also remind us that awe does not always sound the same. Some cultures express reverence through quiet reflection; others through joyful praise. Some worship with restrained dignity; others with visible celebration. Scripture itself gives us a vocabulary broad enough to include silence, kneeling, singing, shouting, instruments, uplifted hands, bowing, and rejoicing. The issue, therefore, is not uniformity of expression but unity of devotion.
Perhaps Ross’s challenge is even more urgent today than when he first wrote it. In an age where people seek transcendence through endless experiences, the church does not need to imitate the world. It must offer something the world cannot produce: the unmistakable presence of the living God.
When our worship exalts God’s holiness, proclaims His Word faithfully, embraces the diversity of His kingdom, and invites genuine surrender, people experience what they have been longing for all along—not merely emotional stimulation, but the awe-filled joy of standing before the King of the universe. And perhaps this is one of the gifts multicultural worship offers the church: We begin to discover that no single culture possesses the complete vocabulary for expressing the greatness of God.
One tradition may teach us to be still before Him. Another may teach us to rejoice before Him. Another may teach us to testify publicly to His faithfulness. Another may remind us of the power of communal prayer, embodied praise, lament, or song. Together, these expressions can point beyond themselves to the One who is greater than them all.
That is the kind of worship that recalls the hope of glory. And that is the kind of worship the remnant church is called to cultivate.
References
Ross, Allen P. 2006. Recalling the Hope of Glory: Biblical Worship from the Garden to the New Creation. N.p.: Kregel Publications.