SEARCHING FOR REAL PRESENCE - Christianity Today

I have led plenty of church services in which people came, yawned their way through the hour, and scooted out the door to more exciting activities. I believe I know why.

Earlier in my pastoral ministry, I majored on the transcendence of God, emphasizing his holy otherness. I described the sacraments as “mere symbol” and believed that only at the eschaton would the kingdom of God dawn. Nevertheless, I began to sense I was catering only half a meal to my congregation.

I realized that people in our culture, me included, were yearning for God’s immanence: his real, manifested, experienced presence. Theologically, I knew that he is present everywhere at all times, but I also knew that we didn’t sense his presence as much as we would like.

I had to admit that I had been talking like a theist but acting like a deist: praying but not expecting God to truly come. Being a functioning deist takes a lot of pressure off-once you learn to preach a sermon, once you learn to run a service, pastoring is no big deal. I didn’t have to worry about what God would do. I had things well under control.

However, I had neither the ministry nor the satisfying relationship with God that I wanted.

Consequently I now have a different priority for a church gathering-not that attenders applaud my sermon or savor the music, not that members tithe or build relationships, as important as these things are, but that we meet God. The sine qua non for me has become: Does God manifest his presence?

Can anything be done to facilitate such presence?

Certainly, we cannot manipulate God with formulas. But our immanent God, who wants us to know him, hear his voice, and feel his compassion, has made himself accessible. In our church we intentionally seek to access God’s real presence in four ways.

Invocation

Traditional invocations have tended to be wakeup calls, arousing the faithful to the start of a worship service.

I became more serious about invocations after I noticed what was happening when I prayed for individuals. When I invoked the Lord’s presence in the lives of needy people, usually I would see God touch them in some discernible way. I decided if that happens with individuals, why not in a large group?

So now our services begin with a faith-filled invitation for God to participate. Certain traditions pray, “Come, Holy Spirit,” followed by the searching injunction to “find out what pleases the Lord.”

Although I have prayed many invocations in my ministry, the current difference for me has been offering the invocation with faith and expectation. We want people to know that we fully intend to meet God in a special way in this service.

We also give opportunity for the Spirit to come. We still maintain order and structure in our service, yet with sufficient flexibility that the Spirit of God can do what he chooses, when he chooses.

For example, as we began ministry time at the end of one service (invocation isn’t restricted to the beginning of a service), I asked the Lord to come and minister to people’s needs and then said, “Is God impressing thoughts on anyone’s heart?”

One man stood in the back of the room and said, “God has given me two words: heart and surgery. Somebody here is having heart surgery, and I’m to pray for you.”

I asked, “Is that word for anyone here?”

No one responded, and we continued on.

Later we learned, however, that a man and woman in the room had a baby slated for heart surgery the very next day, but they were too frightened to say anything. The revealed message helped those parents know that God cared about their circumstances.

Worship

In our worship we value intimacy with God. That’s not easy to achieve, however. Sometimes even our songs can obstruct because the worshipers are more touched by the tunes than by God, enamored with the melody, the sentiment, or the song leader.

Granted, even hymns sung without divine intimacy have benefits-they catechize; they inspire; they uplift-but we insist on seeking real presence.

We’ve found that intimacy in worship comes most readily, though not solely, through second-person songs. They directly address God with the pronoun you (“You are worthy great Jehovah”).

First-person songs (“I once was lost, but now am found”) focus attention on us, and third-person songs (“He owns the cattle on a thousand hills”) sing about God rather than to God. Nothing wrong with either, but they make intimacy more difficult.

Our primary songs are those second-person songs that focus on God’s person and character, addressing him in words of exaltation and affection.

We still delight to sing first- and third-person hymns-after we have led people into a sense of intimacy. For example, this Sunday we have already planned to sing, “On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand.”

As we sing, we invite people to sense and respond to the nearness of God. Some raise their hands. Others kneel or lift their eyes upward. Even facial expressions can indicate something is happening, something deeper than a state of relaxation.

It is not uncommon for people to tell me after a worship service, “I don’t know what is happening. When I come and worship, all I want to do is cry and lift my hands to God.”

Lord’s Supper

The theological epicenter of Christ’s presence is the Lord’s Supper. In addition to rehearsing the historical centrality of the cross, we are releasing the present benefits of the cross. Through Communion, we actively participate as Jesus imparts his grace in forgiveness, healing, and the palpable sense of his presence.

I realized we were making a big mistake by restricting this vital sacrament to fifteen minutes once a month. We were limiting access to God’s immanence. So now we serve Communion weekly.

As worship continues, people go to any one of six serving stations in the back of the auditorium, receive Communion and often prayer from the servers, and then return to their seats.

This lasts approximately ten minutes, but sometimes we plan an extended Communion for the entire service. People receive prayer during this time spontaneously, either by their own request or at the suggestion of the server.

Personal prayer ministry

After believers have worshiped, participated in Communion, and heard the Word of God, they need an opportunity to both receive ministry and respond to the preaching. Since the Word heard without obedience leads to hardness of heart, they need to respond in specific, tangible ways.

In addition, those in need shouldn’t wait for another meeting or counseling appointment if Jesus is present and wants to help them now. I am increasingly amazed at how personal prayer cements the preached word and further accesses people into the presence of Jesus.

So at the end of every service we conduct “ministry time.” People may pray for one another in the congregation; they may come forward for prayer. We have trained a group of people to pray for those in need.

Becky had major emotional problems. Desperate to prevent hospitalization, others had referred her to me. I said to her, “Jesus will come when we invite his presence. He will reveal things you need to know and, we trust, heal the longstanding hurts in your life.”

I sensed her faith, and so I continued, “As I pray for you, the Holy Spirit will let you see something, hear something, or feel something. When this happens, tell me.” No sooner had I invited the presence of Jesus than she saw a vivid image of Jesus extending his hands toward her. At this point I led her in prayer to receive God’s love.

Becky did not have to go to the hospital that afternoon. From that day on she gradually progressed as one of our teams continued to pray with her weekly. I have seen hundreds of such encounters at the end of worship services through the ministry of trained prayer teams.

You would think that after a while people would stop responding. Yet it never fails, when we invite people to receive this ministry, they always come. People want to be touched by God.

Recently I had lunch with a man who had visited our church. I asked him, “What did you like and dislike about our service?”

He replied, “I disliked the fact that in your church, I didn’t know any of the songs. I felt like an outcast.”

“I understand that,” I said. “We need to be more sensitive to that. What did you like about us?”

“I like the fact,” he replied, “that you expect God to come. You really expect he’s going to come.”

He’s right. For if God doesn’t come, why should anyone else?

-George Mallone

Grace Vineyard Christian Fellowship

Arlington, Texas