Akron Ohio Stake News

Worship

At the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, even though it is but a remnant of the outer retaining encasement of the destroyed Herod’s temple, endless Jewish and other faithfuls throng to approach the God of Israel there—touching and wedging written notes between the stones, praying and bowing, crying and wailing.

Not far off in the Holy City, multitudes from all over the world pay homage at the Garden Tomb and the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, where our Savior’s body purportedly lay after His crucifixion. Although at most only one of the two sites was the real scene of the resurrection, and angels had already rhetorically asked: “Why seek ye the living among the dead?” (Luke 24:5), many a Christian pilgrim has felt the reality of our risen Lord there.

Special places augment our spiritual sensibilities, and our sacred memories often carry a location stamp. What are we to do then, when we’re restrained or even severed from our churches and temples—places where the Spirit of the Lord constantly attends, where saving ordinances are administered, families sealed, service consecrated, and hymns of praise and broken hearts offered unto our Creator?

To the distressed, poor Zoramites who had been cast out of their synagogues, Alma taught what Zenos taught, that they can pray to or worship our God whether they be in the wilderness or field or house or closet (Alma 33:3-7). To that list, we may, of course, add a certain grove in Palmyra or any grove, Liberty Jail or any jail, a temple altar or a personal altar. For God is not limited by time and space, only our heart and mind.

Prophetically, our leaders have prepared us to worship without the anchor of designated places. We now know our anchors can or should be our home, Come Follow Me (the study and the doctrine), and the Presence of the Lord (versus His past). Such a realization may well be part of a possibly indispensable spiritual survival skill set in the calamitous end time.

The Lord has promised that when we gather in His name, He will be in our midst (Matthew 18:20). But He also promised that when He knocks and we open the door, He would enter and sup with us and we with Him (Revelation 3:20).

When we can’t go visit a dear friend, we want to get him to come to us. If we cannot go to a burning bush to worship, and even if we can, on our invitation, the Burning Bush will gracefully come to us. Instead of lighting up the holy ground (Exodus 3:5), He will light up our sanctum within where we will come to know Him, thank Him, and unavoidably, profoundly love Him. And thus, true worship, without the aid of environment or any outward magnificence or eloquence, takes place on our inner ground; and thus, our inner ground becomes one of the holy places where we are commanded to stand (Matthew 24:15) in the face of desolation.

In the overarching Book of Mormon vision, we noticed two groups of people reaching the Tree of Life. One group stayed, and the other, despite their having tasted the Tree’s fruit, still managed to fall away. The first group did a few things differently than the second group, one of which was falling down at the Tree (1 Nephi 8:30). Both groups traveled the same distance, so it’s unlikely that one group was feeling more exhausted. Falling down being the act immediately preceding worship (see, for example, 1 Nephi 11:24 and 3 Nephi 11:17), it should be a good guess that the first group fell down because they were overwhelmed by reverence, awe, and the love of God, while the second group, even standing at the Tree, never felt “it” and was, absurdly, casting about their eyes (proving again that venue is not what matters most). Note to self: fall down, worshipfully, or fall away.

There’s another kind of falling down that some of the truest worshippers undergo. Who can forget the publican who stood afar smiting his breast (Luke 18:13) or the woman who stood behind weeping, washing the Savior’s feet with her tears (Luke 7:38)? These, too, had fallen, but they had fallen because of sin. And in the pangs of sin and under the weight of an unpayable debt, they, trembling, cried out to their Redeemer. And notably, it is in the act of such brokenhearted and contrite worship that they cannot sin; it is in the continuance of such worship that they’ll find transformation and salvation. For we, in time, will become what we truly worship.

Come, whether in place or in spirit, gathered or scattered, let us worship our God—no matter where, no matter what!