I had an epiphany last night (I love fancy words. It’s like hanging pretty baubles on the conversation tree-ahem-back to topic) about what it means to worship. I realized what worship really is. It is to see God as He actually is, recognize Him, accept Him as He is.
Suddenly, all those verses about seeing God, working with Him, fully, completely aware of Him and living in that awareness; all those verses now make sense.
I’ve always (and I do mean always ‘cause I’m not talking in fancy, exaggeration terms) had trouble with the idea that God needs me to brag on Him, that I must laud Him all the time, no matter what.
Makes God out to be some needy, self-focused creature that has to have His ego stroked or there will be Hell to pay. Sort of a cosmic Caligula. And if He is that, then He is not God.
In one of those half-awake, half-asleep moments, while thinking about what it means to speak plain words, I caught a thought. Worship means being worthy of adoration, praise, in a clear sense, as to see into the truth of something and recognizing the fullness.
Deceit means to present a false image, cloud truth with conjecture or pretense. A deliberate act of prevarication. An active lie.
So, if worship is to be worthy of recognized, being of extreme value, then it must reflect what really is. And if deceit is the clouding of truth, the question to Eve in Eden (did God really say…?) was meant to question the character, value and worth of God. Making it difficult, if not impossible, to worship God.
Making it easier for all hell to break loose inside Eve. Touching into the very essence of her being. Tainting her self-image, her assurance of who and what she was. Character assignation at a personal level, shattering everything.
Sounds like Cosmic war. Or more precisely, a first strike of universal magnitude.
The words ‘Do you not know that you are the pinnacle of creation, do you not know that God loves you, do you not know that He would die for you’ ring inside me as I think about this. I can hear the anguish of Paul of Tarsus in his letter to the Romans, the sorrow of Jesus as he looked at Jerusalem, the stricken voice of God when he asked Adam “Who told you that you were naked?”
Worship. To be worthy, the state of worth above all worth. The beyond of the beyond.
To suddenly realize deceit meant to steal that awareness from me. Personally. To strike me at the core of myself so that I would be blind, cut off, incapable.
But God trains my hands for war, teaches me to bend the bow of bronze, and He delights in me. Because He is God and I am me.
And we win. Always. Can you hear my sword singing?