More Than a Song

This past Sunday our three churches came together for a day of worship and music, followed by a fellowship luncheon. Even without a sermon, it was a great day with voices lifted together, hearts pointed towards heaven, the Spirit moving. Pentecost reminds us of the power of unity and the presence of God in our midst.
But on this Monday, I find myself asking: What happens when the music stops?
Too often, we act as if Sunday morning is the main event of worship—maybe even the only time that really counts. We come, we sing, we listen, and we leave. And sometimes we leave our worship behind with our offerings and our bulletins.
But real worship is much bigger.
Paul writes in Romans 12:1:
“I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship.”
Not just your voice. Your whole life.
That means how we treat people—especially the people we disagree with, or don’t understand, or feel threatened by—is an act of worship. Or not.
And that’s where things get…uncomfortable.
It’s easy to sing about grace. It’s harder to show it.
It’s easy to lift our hands in praise. It’s harder to open those same hands to help the hurting.
It’s easy to say “Amen” to sermons about love. It’s harder to love people who inconvenience us, challenge us, or disagree with us.
True worship doesn’t stop at the altar—it follows us out the door.
Right now, we’re living in a moment where some of the loudest voices quoting Scripture or posting prayer emojis are also pushing laws and policies that harm the most vulnerable—immigrants seeking safety, LGBTQ+ kids just trying to survive, poor families struggling to make ends meet. You’ve seen it: politicians posting photos of themselves in prayer circles right after passing legislation that strips dignity from the very people Jesus told us to love.
That’s not worship. That’s theater.
It’s created to cause people to hold back their criticism. Who can criticize the hand that signs the law if God is behind it? Newsflash: God is in fact, not behind it.
Colossians 3:17 reminds us:
“Whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus.”
That includes how we vote. How we advocate. How we respond to the suffering of others. That includes how we speak about people who are different from us, whether culturally, politically, or personally.
It also includes how we refuse to turn a blind eye to injustice, even when it’s unpopular or inconvenient.
Brennan Manning said it best:
“The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, walk out the door, and deny Him by their lifestyle. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.”
If our worship is limited to Sundays—if it ends when the last song fades or the livestream stops—we are missing the point. Pentecost wasn’t a one-time event. It was the launch of a new way of being in the world. A Spirit-filled, Spirit-led, justice-minded movement of love and bold truth.
So here’s the question I’m sitting with this week:
“Does my worship extend into how I live after I leave the walls of the church? How I treat my server on Sunday afternoon? How I respond to that annoying coworker or that person begging for change at the traffic light?”
Worship isn’t just a setlist or checklist. It’s the posture of our hearts, the integrity of our actions, and the witness of our everyday lives.
When our worship becomes visible in how we love our neighbors and stand with the marginalized—the world doesn’t just hear a song… it sees Jesus. And, as the saying goes, your life may be the only sermon some people will ever hear.
Closing Prayer
God of every moment,
You are not confined to sanctuaries or bulletins.
You are present in the quiet corners of our lives—
in the way we speak, the way we serve, the way we love.
Forgive us for the times we’ve treated worship as a one-hour event
instead of a way of life.
Forgive us when our lips praise You,
but our actions betray the One we claim to follow.
Holy Spirit, fall on us again—
not just to stir our hearts during a song,
but to empower our hands and feet for justice, mercy, and love.
Teach us to worship with our lives,
to reflect Your grace in our politics, our relationships, and our choices.
Let our neighbors see Jesus in the way we live,
and may our worship never end when the music fades.
We pray this in the name of the One who gave everything—
Jesus Christ, our Lord.
Amen.
