Issue 15
I never expected to find the keystone of a topic I care deeply about spread throughout the Old Testament law. I grew up thinking that Genesis was pretty interesting, but Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy were included in the Bible to test my spiritual discipline of reading God’s word—aside from that, it was a muddy minefield, and one had to gain significant momentum through Genesis in order to make it out on the other side to Joshua, where real things started happening again.
Eventually, I came to think that the reason the Bible spent several books on sacrifice and law was to point to Christ and His ultimate sacrifice—the whole point of these books was to prove their own worthlessness. After all, Christ has come, and now we live in a world without any of that Old Testament sacrificial stuff because Christ did away with it all. Once we realize this, we might as well skim over Exodus through Deuteronomy for the rest of our lives.
But even with this tainted perception, something about the first several books began to intrigue me. After all, Psalm 119:97 says “O how I love Your law! It is my meditation all the day.” So, I thought, there must be something in there beneficial for me to apply myself to. And one couldn’t get away from 2 Timothy 3:16—All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness;”
I began to think to myself “Wouldn’t it be the most interesting thing ever if there was some deeper meaning to all of this—something that could apply to things we do today.”
Then, thanks to the online reformed world, I was introduced to the idea that God’s moral law in the Old Testament should be applied to our daily lives. Even the civil case law can still be rightly learned from—many countries, including ours, have been founded drawing principles from the moral and civil law of the Old Testament. They are not, as I thought, done away with by Christ. In fact, in Matthew 5:17, right after giving the beatitudes, Jesus strikes down a possible objection of the crowd, who may have taken his sermon to be replacing the ten commandments and the Old Testament law: “Do not think that I came to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I did not come to abolish but to fulfill.” Nonetheless, it was my operating assumption that with Christ the entire sacrificial system was obliterated, to include the animal sacrifices, the congregational gatherings, the procedures, the illustrative patterns, the festivals, the whole calendar, the way of life.
It wasn’t until a year or so ago that I realized that, while partially true, this was an incorrect way of looking at the topic of sacrifice. And I further realized that it was because of our misunderstanding of the Old Testament sacrificial system that we are completely clueless about what our Lord’s Day worship is for.
This is going to be a longer article, but as I have said before, we have lost much, and there is much to be regained. This is not a simple or easy topic to think through, and we have a decent amount of unhelpful presuppositions to clear from our minds if we are to understand this subject properly.
Clueless, the Whole Lot of us
We are painfully aware that church today is whatever we want it to be—there are no solid guiding principles. This is not unique to the ultra charismatic or the independent fundamentalist baptist or the megachurch—it is as much a problem in a substantial percentage of the reformed world. I believe this is because a substantial percentage of us in the American reformed world have converted to reformed theology from a largely independent baptist, evangelical, or nondenominational background—and we’re still sorting through some things from our past.
The previous series of articles I wrote has hopefully built up to this realization—some churches seem to think that the guiding purpose of corporate worship is emotional experience (such as some of the nondenominational or megachurch types). Others operate on the principle that Sunday morning is the one evangelistic outreach that doesn’t require us to go knocking on doors (such as many independent baptist churches). Others have a culture of worship centering around education, or maybe praise and thanks (such as many reformed churches). And others might sigh in relief in a rather I-told-you-so manner that their church is in the right because it happens to focus on all four of these areas, and maybe more. But in all of this, nobody from any of these churches seems to have the ability to put forth a solid argument for what church is for. You’ll get a hundred different answers from a hundred different people—in the same denomination.
John Frame, for instance, wrote an entire book on worship, in which his opening statement claims that “worship is the work of acknowledging the greatness of our covenant Lord.” The entirety of the book expounds upon this starting presupposition. Most modern reformed folks agree with this understanding. Furthermore, we tend to operate on the principle that when “worship” occurs on Sunday morning, it is no different in its essence from when “worship” occurs on Friday afternoon, whether that worship ultimately works itself out in song, prayer, or digging up mature potatoes. On this basis, Sunday is special only because more of one type of worship is occurring.
Why is it that in these times, congregants (from the laymen to the professor) are so confused as to why we gather? I believe we draw our problems in this area from a faulty hermeneutic—we discard the Old Testament, skip to the New, find there some random activities, come up with a system in which to fit these activities, and then pull in the Old Testament for some supplemental supporting arguments, claiming in the process that we are “whole-Bible people.” Matthew Everhard, in his book Worshiptainment, correctly points out many key issues with how the church conducts worship. But in attempting to support proper worship, he breaks Sunday morning down into a random series of elements which he hand-picks primarily from the New Testament (and some from the Old, for good measure) before arranging them in an order which makes the most sense.
This is not an uncommon mistake, and for those of us who have converted to reformed theology from something less mature, I think it has roots in our unfortunate heritage of giving unbalanced weight to some parts of Scripture while rejecting the importance of other parts. By Scripture’s own declaration, this is nothing short of a heretical way of thinking:
All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness: That the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works. (2 Timothy 3:16-17)
All of scripture. Not just the really spiritual parts. Not just the newest parts. Not rejecting the uncomfortable areas. All of it.
So let us take off our blinders and come at this topic from a fresh view, using a Biblical hermeneutic, and start on page one.
I must say before continuing further that I have benefited greatly from Jeff Meyer’s book The Lord’s Service. I will be drawing heavily from his book throughout this article. Do yourself a favor and give it a read. Jeff Meyers is a former PCA pastor, now a CREC pastor—likely due to how well he defends paedocommunion in the same book. Now, if he’d only defended sheperdesse—
I should stay on topic.
What I’m about to propose is nothing new to Jeff Meyers or myself, though he writes a comprehensive book easily read by modern folks. John Calvin and others throughout church history hold to this position as well. We have only recently—as in within the past couple hundred years—forgotten what God summons us into His holy presence for. We come up with all sorts of things we should do or execute while in God’s presence, but aside from a free-for-all list of items we pick and choose as we skim through the Bible at 500 miles an hour, we have little idea of why we are there in the first place. And this significantly colors the proceedings.
Covenant Renewal
John Calvin accurately defined the worship of the church as “divine activity—not human creativity.” In other words, the main point is God’s actions—not our own work.
The purpose of Lord’s Day worship—on Sunday, the first day of the week—is that of covenant renewal. This is not a crazy idea unique to Anglicans or Catholics or even Presbyterians. But it is complicated (as covenants tend to be). Covenants are arranged and tied to the Trinity, and there is no pass-the-test definition of a covenant found in the Bible. Instead, God’s Word gives us an unfolding storyline behind each covenant, which in the end gives us a better idea of what a covenant is. Understanding covenants will influence our understanding of how they are renewed, and thereby that of our Sunday morning worship.
Covenants are all throughout Scripture, and while they are all different, they all contain specific elements and they all follow a structure or pattern. Jeff Meyers gives a concise list of elements or attributes of covenants here:
The Bible uses the word ‘covenant’ over three hundred times in the Old and New Testaments to describe the way in which God relates to his people. God enters into, remembers, and renews His covenant with His people (Gen. 6:18; Deut. 5:3; Ezek. 16:60; Ik.1:72; 22:20; Heb. 8:10). The people for their part must not break, but remember and renew their covenant with God (1 Chr. 16:15; Ps. 103:18; Hos. 6:7). There are covenant making rituals (Gen. 15:1-21; 21:27; Exod. 24:7-8; 34:27; Jer. 34:18), covenant documents (Exod. 34:27-28; the Decalogue, Deut. 31:9, 26; the entire book of Deuteronomy; Heb. 9:4), covenantal laws (Exod. 21-23; Ezra 10:3), covenant signs (Gen. 9:12; 17:9-14), covenant meals (Lk. 22:20; 1 Cor. 11:25), covenant mediators (Heb. 12:24); covenant sacrifices (Exod. 24:8; Heb. 9:18-20; 10:29), covenant memorials (Gen. 9:15-16; Exod. 20:24; Josh. 4:7; 1 Cor. 11:25), covenant promises (Ps. 105:9-11; Heb. 8:6), covenant curses (Deut. 29:21; 30:1; Josh. 8:34), covenant witnesses (Deut. 31:26; Mal. 2:14), and more.
Furthermore, each covenant follows a similar structure of five segments. (1) God takes hold. (2) He separates and creates something new. (3) He speaks, then (4) establishes ritual signs and seals, and (5) arranges for the future establishment and preservation of the covenant.
Looking at a few examples will help us understand this better. In what is called the Adamic Covenant or Covenant of Life, God in Genesis 2:7 takes hold of dust (1). He separates it from the ground and with it makes something new—a living being made in God’s own image, naming him Adam (2). In Genesis 2:16, God speaks with Adam, establishing the law, the ways in which Adam is to live, and what his job in the garden will entail (3). In the next verse, God establishes the ritual signs of this covenant by granting Adam permission to eat from any tree, except for one (4). And then in verse 18, God gives Adam a wife, through whom this covenant will continue throughout the rest of the generations of mankind (5).
I have listened to all sorts of theological shenanigans made by pastors in an attempt to explain why Genesis bounces around a little here (instead of strict chronology). This is why: the author of Genesis is highlighting different covenants being made in close succession at the beginning of the earth’s existence.
Case in point, the first marriage covenant occurs during the Adamic Covenant. In Genesis 2:21, God takes hold of Adam (1). In 22 through 23, Adam falls into a deep sleep—in effect dying—is separated from part of himself by God, after which God brings him Eve. Adam speaks to and names his own wife Eve, establishing the structure of authority (2). In verse 24, God speaks, telling us what all of this means (3). In verse 25, the sacrament of a sexual union is established (4), and through this, the provision (and commandment) for a future has been established: be fruitful and multiply (5).
The Noahic covenant follows this pattern:
- God takes hold of Noah, finding favor with him (Genesis 6:8)
- God separates Noah and his family from the world, preserving them through death and judgement. Noah is a new Adam figure, beginning a new hierarchical society charged by God to uphold human life (Gen. 9:5-6)
- God speaks to Noah, describing his new situation in this new world.
- New signs and seals to describe this covenant are established: a new sacrificial system (Gen. 8:20) and rainbow (Gen. 9:8-17)
- God arranges for the succession of the covenant in preserving the earth (Gen. 8:21-22) and through establishing a priestly nation (the Shemites).
The same pattern is found in the Abrahamic, the Mosaic, and the Davidic Covenants. Even the New Covenant in Christ has the same structure:
- God takes hold of His creation to make something new (His effectual call).
- In Christ, God’s people are made dead to their former selves, separated from the world. They become a new creation in Him, being raised to new life. They are given new names—Christians—and have a new hierarchical structure of pastors, elders, and deacons instead of the former priestly order.
- God speaks to his people in a new way through His Son. A new way of life—love and sacrificial living—is described in the new covenantal documents called the New Testament.
- New signs are instituted: baptism and the Lord’s supper.
- Provision is made for the succession and preservation of the covenant through the ordination of ministers, elders, and deacons, and their task to make more disciples.
Taking a look at the signs of the New Covenant, we find this pattern repeated once again.
In the Lord’s Supper:
- Jesus takes hold of the bread and cup, giving thanks
- Jesus breaks the bread and pours out the wine, giving them new names (My body, My blood).
- He taught his disciples while they ate, speaking of this new covenant.
- He told them to continue this sacramental meal in remembrance.
- Having eaten, the disciples were strengthened and encouraged for their mission. They sang and then departed.
And in baptism:
- The person is called by God.
- He is separated from his old way of life and natural parents, and he is given a new way of life in the church, united with Christ and placed under the authority of the church leadership.
- As a disciple, the person learns to listen and heed God’s word.
- He is admitted to the covenant memorial meal.
- He is tasked to perpetuate the covenant by means of evangelism, marriage, and the faithful nurture of children.
These are documented, legal ways in which God interacts with us and how we interact with God. Furthermore, it is our operating principle that unless a covenant is fulfilled and ended in Christ (or abrogated), that covenant is still in operation today—take the marriage covenant as a very obvious example. One could argue (albeit wrongly) that with Christ as the Bride-groom of the church, marriage is no longer required. Abrogation in the New Testament is very specific, it is clear, and it is not usually without some amount of uproar or pushback. The covenant of marriage has therefore not been abrogated because we do not see it specifically happen.
Sunday morning is a time given to us by God in which He renews His covenant with us, and this time culminates in a covenant meal—the Lord’s Supper. But in order to make this claim more understandable, we have to back up a few steps and take a look at the way of sacrifice throughout the Old and New Testaments. I got genuinely excited when I first made this connection.
The Nuts and Bolts of Old Testament Sacrifice
The first thing to realize is that covenant and sacrifice are knit together extremely tightly (Gen. 8:20-9:17; Gen. 15.8-18; Exod. 24:4-11; 34:15; Lev. 2:13; 24:1-8: Num. 18:19; I Kgs. 3:15; Ps. 50:5; Lk. 22:20; Heb. 9:15, 18; 9:20; 12:24; 13:20). Wherever a covenant is, there you will find sacrifice. It might not be a sacrifice involving an animal, but the way of sacrifice is very much involved—both in the inauguration of the covenant and in its renewal.
Quite interestingly, a similar five-fold covenantal pattern is also found in the sacrificial system. In their systematic operation, they are mirror images of each other. In Leviticus 1:1-9, we see what God requires of a guilt offering.
- Verse 1 and 2: (The Call) God calls the worshipper to draw near with an appropriate animal.
- Verse 3 through 5: (Confession and Absolution) The worshiper identifies himself with the animal, which is then slain (instead of the worshiper).
- Verse 6 and 7: (Consecration): God has the priests appropriately cut up the animal, preparing it (and the identified worshiper) to enter God’s presence.
- Verse 8 and 9: (Communion): The worshiper (represented by the slain animal) ascends into God’s presence in smoke from the altar and is consumed by God, being incorporated into His glory cloud. This is a communion meal. God is at peace with the worshiper, as reflected in the smoke mingling with the cloud.
- Commissioning: Once the sacrifice is over, the worshiper is sent out renewed for service in the kingdom (Num. 6:24-27).
This is the case for every offering. Each time an animal is executed (signifying cleansing and forgiveness), after which the animal is cut up (signifying consecration), and then it finally ascends in smoke to become one with God’s presence (signifying peace and communion with God).
In addition to this, there is also the same pattern seen in the three types of offerings, which highlight (but are not exclusive to) one of these three stages of each offering.
The purification offering or guilt offering presented in Leviticus 17 accents the slaughter of the animal and the blood on the alter, specifically for the cleansing of sin. The other two aspects of consecration and communion are still present, but they are downplayed.
The ascension offering expands upon the element of consecration. In the ascension offering, the whole animal is offered up in smoke into the cloud of God’s presence. But the emphasis is placed on the skinning and cutting up of the animal to make it fit to ascend in smoke.
The peace offering focuses on the element of communion and peace with God. This peace is a crucial dimension of all sacrifices, but especially in this offering.
These three types of sacrifices are always done in the same order (guilt, ascension, peace). So not only does each sacrifice follow the same pattern, but the order of multiple sacrifices does as well.
Yet another correlation is found in a place I didn’t expect—in the ark of the covenant. I always figured that what went into the ark of the covenant was a rather uninteresting mystery, nothing more than a collection of keepsake items from the old times before the Israelites had seen their land promise fulfilled. But if we stop to consider the gravity of what is being put inside the holiest box which sits in the holiest place on earth, maybe we would learn something meaningful. Maybe God was telling us something when He instructed the placement of these items.
As it turns out, what is put in the ark is indeed deeply significant. There are three items: Aaron’s budded rod, the Decalogue tablets, and a bowl of manna. Besides their historical significance, they also exhibit meaning in their essence. They reflect what is called the Threefold Gift of God of glory, wisdom, and life. Understanding this is helpful to see the three aspects of how we draw near to God.
Aaron’s budded rod signifies the transformed person or glory. It corresponds to the sin offering and restoration. The decalogue tablets signify wisdom, corresponding to the ascension offering and consecration by God’s Word. And the pot of manna reflects God’s gift of life. It corresponds to the peace offering or a communion meal. These three items, physical representations of how God draws us near to Himself, were placed inside the Ark of the Covenant, inside the holy of holies.
Remember the Sabbath Day
Every single Sabbath day, God commanded a holy convocation with a feast (Lev. 23:1-3). Once Israel became a people with land, this commandment would have likely been kept by maintaining localized sacrifices every week—we know that the Levites were everywhere, and that their job was to execute such things. And it is also likely that not everyone from Dan to Beersheba traveled to Jerusalem every Sabbath to keep God’s commandment of a weekly convocation. These local Sabbath gatherings could easily have been what later became called synagogues in the Intertestamental Period.
In any case, if Israelites were meeting every week for a Sabbath convocation as instructed, every practicing Jew would have become rigidly familiar with these proceedings—just as we are rigidly familiar with how far along we are in the church service.
And similar to ourselves, not all Jews took their practice to heart. In fact, they were constantly being called to repentance because they did not see the implications of what the sacrifices meant. God did not care about the blood of bulls and goats, but rather the hearts of the people. The people offering the sacrifice were supposed to identify with the animal as it was killed, cut up, placed on the altar, and offered up in smoke as a pleasing and atoning aroma to mingle with God’s glory cloud. But they didn’t get it. For many of them, their lives were unchanged as they went through the motions—refusing to see the weight of what they were doing. Time after time they were called to circumcise their hearts and were chastised for not applying these sacrifices to themselves.
This is one of the foundational sins of Israel: it was in failing to apply the visual obedience to their hearts, resulting in spiritual obedience. Throughout Israel’s apostasy, God speaks through the prophets time and time again, criticizing them for their sacrifices made with unclean hearts (Ps. 40:6; 51:16; 54:6; 66:15; Is. 1:11; Jer. 6:20; Hos. 3:4; 4:13; 6:6; 8:13; 12:11; 13:2; Amos 4:5; 5:22).
A Shadow of Things to Come
Quite possibly the reason that many Israelites were dead in their worship is similar to the reason we find dead worship in the church today—it has become so normal and routine that its meaning has ceased. Or maybe it is as simple as a lack of spiritual maturity and vigor—from the backseat congregant to the pastor himself. In any case, Old Testament Israelites lived in a time when what they were doing was less clear—those who studied what they were doing and took it to heart discovered the true meaning of what the sacrifice was pointing to—that God desires a regenerate heart, grieved in remembering its sinful nature. But when only a shadow of the things to come was visible (Heb 10:1) this was harder to realize.
But thanks be to God, what was hidden in the Old Testament is now revealed in Christ through His atoning death and resurrection (Exod. 16:31-34; Eph. 3:9; Col. 1:26; 2:3; Her. 9:3-4; Rev. 2:17). And most people agree—but let’s dissect this idea a little further. Christ’s ultimate, once-for-all sacrifice both abrogated and fulfilled animal sacrifices. But it also illuminated the church for the true meaning of the sacrificial rituals. And through our union with Him we become living sacrifices (Rom. 12:1, Heb 6:20, 1 Peter 2:5).
Living sacrifices? Surely there’s some spiritual and allegorical way to breeze this one off. Surely we don’t have anything to do with sacrifice anymore. And yes, mostly true. But while animal sacrifices have been put to an end, the way of sacrifice has not been abrogated, but rather fulfilled—by the work of Christ for us, but also in us. The spiritual implications and liturgical flow of sacrifice continues on.
The New Testament is filled with language describing this principle of how we relate to God in the new covenant. And that way is the way of sacrifice. It is how we have access to the Father. Of course, Christ is the reason we have access to the Father. But God has set up a way in which He commands us to live our lives and draw near to Him.
This way has not been discarded with the entirety of the Old Testament, as some would believe, but it is valid for the present time, the time of the New Covenant (Heb 9:9-10). And it is not solely confined to Christ’s atoning sacrifice. In fact, all throughout the New Testament, the apostles describe, explain, and define the church and Christian life using the sacrificial precedent established in the tabernacle and temple. These acts, rites, and physical duties are no longer required today, but their spiritual implications are (Eph. 5:2, Heb 9:26, Heb 10:12).
The new life we have in Christ is described using sacrificial language. Sacrifice describes the essence of the Church’s mission on earth. We are called to offer up spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Christ (1 Pet. 2:5; Phil. 2:17; Rom. 12:1). We are instructed to live self denying, generous lives (Heb. 13:16; Eph. 5:2). We give off an aroma, similar to how a sacrifice offers up a pleasing aroma to God (2 Cor. 2:15-16). God’s sanctifying work on our lives is still present today as it was during the Old Testament sacrifices (Heb: 4:12). The work of the apostles is described using the word “priestly” (Rom. 15:16; Phil. 2:17; Col. 1:24-25). The monetary gifts of Christians (Phil. 4:18) and the worship of God’s people (Psalm 50:8, 14, 23; Heb. 13:15) is described as an offering. And the prayers of the saints arising is described as sacrificial smoke ascending (Rev. 8:1-5). And finally, the Lord’s supper is a memorial offering, fulfilling the passover feast and standing as a sacrament of the New Covenant: “Therefore, let us keep the feast” (1 Cor. 5:8). The body and blood of Christ appear before us on the table already separated—because Christ’s sacrifice has already occurred.
These are just a few examples of how our Christian life is described using sacrificial language.
While animal sacrifices have been clearly fulfilled and abrogated in the ultimate sacrifice of Christ (Mark 12:33; Heb. 7:27; 10:1-12), the way of sacrifice has not. God, and the world He has created, still operates by the same principles. Old Testament sacrifices did several things—they pointed to the need for Christ’s sacrifice, taught the people of Israel of their sin, and established precedent of how God draws man to Himself and how man should come before God. It is abundantly clear that animal sacrifices have no place in this New Covenant. But the way or the form of sacrifice still does.
Taken from another perspective, one would think that if all the elements of the Old Testament are completely done away with, that there would have been an outcry about multiple issues. From what Scripture tells us, there were indeed outcries in several areas, and two of these outcries circled around the following:
- Animal sacrifice has been done away with forever (abrogated), in Christ’s atoning death and resurrection.
- In Christ, gentiles now have equal access to the Father.
One might think that maybe, just maybe, even though we do not have such noise about the way of sacrifice passing away, that maybe it did anyway, quietly, without much fanfare.
But that’s not what we find in the New Testament.
Quite the opposite, it is strengthened. In the Old Testament, the fire of God ignites the offering, which ascends up to God in smoke to become one with His glory cloud. And in the New Testament, the fire of God ignites us (Acts 2:2).
Sacrificial Liturgy in our Worship
That’s all well and good, but how does this affect Sunday morning? To begin with, Sunday morning should exist. Christians have been sabbath keepers since the earth was created. The sabbath law was reiterated in the Mosaic law, and it was not abolished in the New Testament—though some of the legalistic idolatry was (Mark 2:27).
In Leviticus 23:1-3, a holy and solemn assembly was to be done every sabbath day. This meant that in addition to the sabbath being a day of rest, it was also a day when the entire congregation gathered for a time of sacrifice and worship. In the New Covenant, the sabbath has been moved from Saturday to Sunday as the Lord’s day. But aside from that, it is still a day of rest and of gathering. There are many people who would claim that sabbath rest, along with animal sacrifices, is something which has passed away with the Old Testament. At the same time, they would still claim that Sunday is still a day when church is supposed to happen, but in their theological structure they would have no way to back this up with Scriptural precedent.
My point is that sabbath as rest and sabbath as a time of holy gathering comes from one and the same source. They are both reiterated throughout the Old and New Testaments, and we have no reason to assume that these attributes are done away with.
Therefore, what occurs during our holy convocation? We would do well to ask the same thing of what occurred during their holy convocation. Simply put, God drew His people near to Himself. It happened then and it happens now, though there are a few technical differences, such as animal sacrifice being done away with. To see how this plays out, it is helpful to focus on the liturgy.
Liturgy is the means by which a worship service is executed. Every church has a liturgy of some sort, whether they admit it or not—liturgy simply means the roadmap of how things progress in the service. Still, we have a tendency to think of “really liturgical” churches as very structured, with a scripted worship service, and we think of “non-liturgical” churches as those which do not. We must leave off deceiving ourselves with this misunderstanding—as Rob Rayburn points out—
Liturgical churches are churches that have thought about those elements and their proper order. Nonliturgical churches are those that have not. It is no compliment to say that a church is a nonliturgical church. It is the same thing as saying it is a church that gives little thought to how it worships God.
We would do well to give serious thought to how we enter God’s presence. We would do so, after all, if given an audience with our boss or our mayor or the Sheriff of Nottingham. The come-as-you-are and without-thinking-about-it attitude that the church has promulgated about entering God’s throne room with little to no preparation is misguided, unhelpful, and dishonoring to our Creator God. So instead, let us do some serious thinking about what is going to happen at our churches next Sunday morning.
Liturgy is not a scary figment of the Catholic church—it is a way of life. The modern church in its rejection of this has recently realized the stabilizing force that liturgy has. God be praised, many churches are beginning to return to liturgy, but without a basis other than “it’s better than the alternative” or “it helps us do things in a more orderly fashion.” However, a church can have a structured order without having a Biblical order.
Fortunately, we do not have to guess or make up an order of worship. God has communed with His people in the same way for thousands of years—and that is by the weekly renewal of His covenant with them by way of sacrifice.
In the New Covenant era, we do not see this weekly liturgical precedent abolished. In fact, quite the opposite. If the synagogue derived principles of covenant renewal sacrificial worship from the temple, and the early church understood itself to be the fulfillment of both synagogue and temple, having worship in the category of sacrifice would be obvious. This was not the pitfall of Jewish influence argued against in Hebrews. It was directly taken from the flow of worship everyone was already familiar with, a liturgy established for thousands of years.
The early church was commended for its good order in Colossians 2:5 and it was exhorted to maintain a good order in 1 Corinthians 14:33. One might make the case that “good order” means nothing but accomplishing random things in a non-chaotic fashion (instead of following an already-established order), but let’s keep digging.
In the Old Testament, liturgy is closely connected to the offering or the sacrifice. Sacrifices are qorban (that which is brought near) and to sacrifice is qrb, which literally means to cause to draw near. Therefore, the worshiper who offers sacrifice draws near to God through his sacrifice. Likewise, in the New Covenant, God offers a way for us to draw near to Him, and that is by way of spiritual sacrifice. Romans 12:1—
“Therefore I urge you, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship.”
In this passage, “Spiritual service” is translated from the word latreia which is the service or liturgy by which a worshiper presents himself to God. In other words, in the Old Covenant, the worshiper drew near to God by identifying himself with an animal. In the New, we identify with Christ. But like the Old, we still present ourselves as spiritual sacrifices.
In Acts 13:2 liturgy comes up again: “While they were ministering to the Lord and fasting, the Holy Spirit said, “Set apart for Me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.”
“Ministering” here uses the word leitourgeo, which, defined, is public, congregational service. Catch that? The New Covenant worship service is described as a liturgy—a service with a defined flow and purpose.
Hebrews 9:6—
“Now when these things have been so prepared, the priests are continually entering the outer tabernacle performing the divine worship.” In this case, “worship” uses the word latreia, which were the ceremonial rites the priests performed in the temple or tabernacle.
In Hebrews 10:1, the Old Testament sacrificial system is described as a “shadow of the things to come”. Now, a shadow has the same form, proportions, and shape of the thing that casts them. It is not the same thing, but it has the same general form. And it is also not the full picture. In the New Covenant, united to Christ, who is our High Priest, we have holy of holies sanctuary access to God’s house (Heb. 12:18-22), where we perform the Lord’s weekly service. Better? Much. A fuller picture? Absolutely. But the same shape? Yes again. We have not traded hippos for bananas.
How Sacrifice Works Today
Pastors and theologians love to bring up the fact that the New Testament does not give us a liturgy—and therefore, we are free to do whatever we want! They say that it is part of our Christian freedom. And if you read the Bible with the perspective that we should get all of our guiding principles through the New Testament, reading the Bible backwards, this is an easy conclusion to come to.
But this perspective is misguided from the beginning—instead, wouldn’t it be great if we knew how God wanted to be worshiped as opposed to making blind attempts and guessing? When we start with a hermeneutic of finding precedent in the Old Testament and seeing how the New Testament builds on top of it, we discover that a precedent has indeed been established for how we worship. What we find is that the weekly worship of God’s people established from the beginning of creation is the weekly renewal of God’s covenant with us. It is done by way of sacrifice (spiritual sacrifice in our case), and it has a specific order or liturgy.
This may seem like a terrifying slippery slope to those unfamiliar with these principles. Is Will saying that we should conduct pretend sacrifices on Sunday? Does he want us to return to new moon festivals and Old Testament feasts? The apostle Paul would say otherwise:
But now that you have come to know God, or rather to be known by God, how is it that you turn back again to the weak and worthless elemental things, to which you desire to be enslaved all over again? You observe days and months and seasons and years. I fear for you, that perhaps I have labored over you in vain. (Galatians 1:9-11)
And of course, we don’t sacrifice animals. How many times have we been clearly told that this is not what God desires? How many times are we told that Christ is the fulfillment of these animal sacrifices?
These things aside, we are clearly told that spiritual sacrifice continues on—not on a completely different set of guiding principles, but on those which have already been established. And it’s actually not very far from what many protestant reformed churches are already doing—many of them, in returning to a more carefully thought out liturgy, have managed to reverse engineer the same order of worship established throughout Scripture—though they have inadvertently come to this solution through reading the Bible backwards. Therefore, they have no reason for their order aside from “We thought this was the best way of doing things.”
Following the sacrificial system in our worship is as simple as arranging our worship service to reflect the same steps as were demonstrated and pictured for us in the animal sacrifices of the Old Testament. This is nothing new—it is what the church has done for thousands of years, first as animal sacrifices for the entirety of the Old Testament, then confirmed by the New Testament apostles, and becoming visible again during the Reformation. The same order has always existed.
This order, following the same five step pattern seen in the sacrificial system and every established covenant, would work itself out in a modern worship service as follows:
- God calls His children to draw near.
- God deals with our sin as we confess our shortcomings and evildoings to the Lord. This is the first act we do when we come into His presence, and as we enter into right standing with God, we can dialogue with Him properly for the rest of the service. The air has been cleared.
- God consecrates us by speaking to us through Scripture. The double-edged sword of God’s word chops us up and rearranges us as fit spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God. This sword does not destroy, but transforms us (Heb 4:12).
- The Lord’s supper, the climax, the goal, the communion and peace with God. It will also cap off history as the redeemed and glorified bride of Christ participates in the marriage supper of the lamb (Rev 19:9, 17).
- Once the service is over, God charges us to go out and extend His kingdom in to the future and into the world (Numbers 6:24-26).
Jeff Meyers gives some beneficial clarity to this:
God invites people to church on Sunday for a meal. Eating and drinking together with the Lord caps off the service. It is the goal of the Lord’s service. The Lord’s supper should never be something occasionally tacked on to the end of a Christian worship service. One of the chief reasons so many distorted answers are given to the question “Why do I come to church on Sunday” is that the communion meal has not figured prominently into much of American evangelical worship. It gets pushed off to a weeknight or Sunday evening celebration with select Christians who decide they might have some pious use for the ritual. We come together as the church for the Lord’s Supper. If we are not coming together to eat with Jesus at this common Table, then we deserve the rebuke of the apostle Paul (1 Cor. 11:20).
This is not a scary return to Old Testament doctrine such as is argued against in Galatians. It is not a return to the sacrificial system—it is a continuation of the spiritual implications without the elemental things of animal sacrifices, festivals, and incense. It is the shadow of things to come revealed for all to see—for Christians, their children, and everyone fortunate enough to observe God’s covenanting weekly service with His people.
Many churches are already following this liturgical pattern found throughout the Old Testament. They have either kept this liturgy through all the modern liberalism, they have regained a proper understanding of it, or they have inadvertently reverse-engineered this type of service through watching others and finding worthwhile things to emulate. It is not difficult to regain what has been lost—and as long as an understanding of what is happening is also regained, long-term growth and maturation will be possible.
While I have not yet heard this from other authors, I think the entire book of Revelation gives us a glimpse of what occurred on a particular Lord’s Day in God’s throne room. While it is not the main focus, the same liturgical flow is happening in the background while John is receiving His vision.
- In Revelation 1, John states that he is “in the spirit on the Lord’s day.” He is summoned into his vision by the voice of Christ, like unto a trumpet blast, and he first sees Christ amongst the seven golden lamp-stands, which represent the church. This is the call.
- In Revelation 2 and 3, God pronounces judgement on these churches, commending some for their faith and warning others of their sin. This is God’s response to the stage of confession.
- Revelation 4 through 20 would correspond to the ascension offering—in it, God reveals His intentions for the earth through His Word, He considers and deals with the prayers of the saints, and He accepts praise to Himself.
- Revelation 21 and 22 give us a picture of the new heavens and the new earth, the bride of Christ glorified and united with Him, and the beginning of life forever. This is the ultimate communion with God.
- And in a final benediction, Revelation 22:21 reads “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen.”
I admit that I have not yet heard of this perspective on Revelation from other sources. But it is a glimpse into God’s throne room, where the saints are spiritually gathered on the Lord’s day, and it is where God and His people commune every week. Therefore, we should expect to see this at least in the background of Revelation—and I think we do.
Benefits of Covenant Renewal Worship.
Until now, I have not discussed the benefits of following God’s established liturgy. That is because we should not build our theology around our own perceived benefits—that is called pragmatism, and it can lead to some bad places, good as the intention may be. Unfortunately, many churches are guilty of this. For instance—
A congregation, full of good intentions to return to a better way, combs through the New Testament and has difficulty finding a pattern. Nevertheless, a specific liturgy is established because it’s helpful and orderly. Music becomes traditional because it cultivates an attitude of respect. Topical sermons are outlawed in favor of expositional preaching, and a call to worship is added because it seems natural (and everyone else is doing it). Communion is even done once a week (amazing!) but still nobody can find that one verse that says it needs to happen on a weekly basis (because there isn’t one). In an unprecedented series of events, it is decided that a confession of sins will be added right before communion. This church is on the right track. But will it stand up to criticism? Unfortunately, it will have a very, very difficult time maintaining its newfound liturgical beginnings the moment opposition arises. The best they will be able to say is “We thought it was a good idea. There’s a lot of benefits of doing it this way, after all. But, I guess there could be better ways.”
This congregation possessed the hermeneutic of starting with the New Testament and now has, for the most part, no opinion and no reason to do worship in one way versus another, though it has landed on a very good way of doing things (with the exception of confession at the end of the service). But if we start at the beginning and see the precedent God establishes, we will be much better off. And, like I mentioned, there are real benefits which do deserve our attention.
Covenant renewal worship allows us to properly and obediently respond to God’s desire to renew His covenant with us every week. It gives God our joyful offering of ourselves. Very importantly, it gives us a picture of the gospel played out through our service order, making it visible to ourselves and to our children and to any visitor. It helps us have a proper attitude of respect, fear, repentance, and joy. It makes our worship orderly and it spiritually renews us. Spiritual renewal is what everyone is longing for in church. But it is a reward for obedience, not the result of a careful vending machine selection. We do not get spiritual renewal because we can cleverly craft a specific method of worship—true renewal comes only through obedience.
Conclusion
The reformed world in America is in the process of recovering its lost heritage. Formerly Armenian and Pelagian churches are now becoming reformed. Churches with a haphazard liturgy are becoming more structured and thoughtful. They are also realizing the merit of singing in more traditional styles of worship and even Psalms. Expository preaching, the creeds, and the confessions are finding themselves popular. This is all praiseworthy and we should thank God for His mercies in bringing to light our shortcomings in these areas. I am concerned, however, that the main point of Sunday worship is still largely misunderstood. Without a solid understanding of covenant renewal and sacrificial worship, we stand in danger of casting aside all of our newfound doctrine—because it stands on a basis of pragmatism. If pragmatism gave rise to the megachurch seeker sensitive model, it can do so again.
So many doctrinal issues of our day are capable of being resolved with a proper hermeneutic. In this case, we started at the beginning—in the first chapters of Genesis. We saw how God’s unfolding story of creation and His interaction with His people was executed and how it established precedent. We saw the shadow of covenant, sacrifice, and their liturgies revealed in Christ, and in the process we found things that continue and things which do not continue. This is far more stable ground on which a foundation can be built. If we see the Bible as a free-for-all collection of random, disconnected verses compiled in a random, disconnected way, the entire structure of God’s word collapses. Eventually, we fall into the trap of picking and choosing elements dispersed throughout Scripture, coming up with our own framework and making it up as we go along.
With how many times we are given pictures of sacrifice and covenant renewal within worship, how obvious does it have to be for us to see how God wants us to draw near to Him when He call us into His presence today? Countless churches operate on the principle that the Old Testament has no bearing on our lives, that it has no bearing, for instance, on our Sunday morning gathering. But if this extensive volume of information has no bearing on us, what does? The New Testament assumes we gave it our careful attention.
When we read the Bible rightly, from Genesis to Revelation, we receive a much fuller picture of Lord’s day worship: it is structured, it has a definite purpose of God communing with us, and it operates on principles of sacrifice and covenant renewal. Armed with this perspective, we have the ability to more fully obey God when He calls, and we leave His presence better equipped to work in His kingdom.


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