There are some definite problems with the modern evangelical church’s approach to worship. Zip lines, motorcycles, trampolines, and other gimmicks aside, there is a sentimental ethos present in many churches, which finds particular expression in the songs of these churches. Frequently, modern worship songs encourage the congregation to speak to Jesus in terms better suited for a boyfriend than for a Lord, King, Master and Savior. 

If this sounds like an exaggeration, here are some examples from actual worship songs commonly sung in churches (lyrics by John Mark McMillan): 

 And heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss,
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest.

— John Mark McMillan

I see Your face in every sunrise
The colors of the morning are inside Your eyes
The world awakens in the light of the day
I look up to the sky and say You're beautiful (Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh).

— Phil Wickham

Your love is extravagant. Your friendship is intimate.
I feel like moving to the rhythm of your grace.
Your fragrance is intoxicating, in our secret place.

— Darrell Evans

Sensual lyrics like these, often sung with eyes closed, with the leader and congregation gently swaying back and forth to the soothing soft rock vibes communicates (perhaps unwittingly) that the truest worshipers are those who can relate to Christ like a smitten young woman. 

Not surprisingly, many men find themselves alienated by this ethos within the church. If true and deep worship requires this borderline erotic expression of romantic love, they want no part in it. Many men have left such churches in search of something deeper, more solid, more theologically robust, and less… shall we say… mushy. 

However, there’s a danger here as well. It can be very easy for those who are reacting against a perceived abuse or imbalance to swing to the opposite extreme. In this case, In their rejection of emotionalism, such men frequently adopt a view that functionally says: “emotions or affections are irrelevant to worship. God is worthy of my worship whether I feel like worshiping Him or not. I have a duty as God’s creature to worship Him, which is what I will do.” In a word, duty trumps emotion. 

This isn’t entirely wrong. The worthiness of God to be worshiped should be enough to drive us to worship Him. We should praise Him because He is praiseworthy. The problem with this perspective is that it is an over-correction. In rejecting emotionalism they end up rejecting emotions or affections altogether. This is the error of the opposite extreme. Being freed from one ditch, they have launched over the road, and are now stuck in the other ditch. 

Nothing new under the sun

This is not the first time in history the church has seen something like this. As a series of revivals swept through New England in the early- to mid-18th century, great religious fervor manifested among multitudes of people, which was thought by many to be the fruit of the Holy Spirit’s working. However, not long after the period of revival ended, many of the same people who seemed so passionate in their worship only a short time before went back to their old ways, patterns, and sins. 

This led many people to disparage any display of religious fervor as spurious. Any and all passionate expressions of religious affection began to be viewed with great suspicion, if not condemned altogether.

Sounds rather familiar doesn’t it? It is in this context that the Great Puritan Jonathan Edwards wrote his treatise Religious Affections. One of his aims, which is particularly poignant for our situation today, was to show that true religion consists very much in the affections. That is to say, we cannot and do not worship God rightly, we do not serve Him well, honor or glorify Him if our affections remain unmoved. 

Edwards writes: 

“If the great things of religion are rightly understood, they will affect the heart. The reason why men are not affected by such infinitely great, important, wonderful and glorious things, as they often hear and read of in the Word of God, is undoubtedly because they are blind; if they were not so, it would be impossible, and utterly inconsistent with human nature, that their hearts should be otherwise than strongly impressed, and greatly moved by such things.”

The biblical realities of which we speak, read, sing, and put on display through the Sacraments are glorious beyond imagining. The Creator God, enthroned above the cherubim, majestic in power, worshiped by heavenly creatures the like of which would make even the strongest man tremble, has reconciled us to Himself, by sending His Son to pay our ransom, to die a bloody death on a cross, bearing the wrath of almighty God in the place of us sinners. 

How we can speak of His glory, His grace, His majesty, His wrath, His power, His love, or anything else about Him, without having our affections moved, simply proves that we have very little true apprehension of the weight of these realities. And as Edwards points out, the problem is our lingering spiritual blindness. 

For if our eyes were opened, we could not help but be moved. If we saw clearer, gained a more accurate picture, had a deeper taste of the glory and goodness of God, the redeemed heart could do nothing but celebrate!

And indeed, this is precisely what God calls us to in His Word. Examine the Scriptures and you’ll find that they are replete with examples of God calling for high affections in our devotion to Him. 

“You shall love the Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind. This is the great and first commandment.”  (Matthew 22:37-38)

“Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the LORD.” (Romans 12:11)

“Rejoice in the Lord, Always! Again I will say, Rejoice!” (Philippians 4:4)

“Serve the LORD with gladness! Come into his presence with singing!” (Psalm 100:2)

Our duty to God

Here’s where a stoic, duty-driven approach fails. Part of our duty is to not be stoic. You cannot perform your duties to God while remaining unmoved in your affections.

Joe Rigney put it well: “God is not honored by a duty-driven approach to the Christian life, unless we include the duty to delight in God.” 

If we can find no motivation to worship God outside of our knowledge that God is deserving of our worship, and that it is our duty as His creatures to render it to Him, such a man should of course still worship God, rather than not. But we should not imagine that this is a healthy heart, or one that is even truly fulfilling its duties to God.

C.S. Lewis writes: 

“A perfect man would never act from a sense of duty; he’d always want the right thing more than the wrong one. Duty is only a substitute for love (of God and of other people) like a crutch which is a substitute for a leg. Most of us need the crutch at times; but of course it is idiotic to use the crutch when our own legs (our own loves, tastes, habits etc.) can do the journey on their own.”

Were it not for our spiritual blindness, the realities of “the great things of religion,” as Edwards calls them, would move our affections. So let us not be content with a duty-driven stoicism in our worship and service of God. While the emotionalism, and sappy ethos of much contemporary Christianity rightly sends us seeking for something deeper, firmer, more rooted, and robust, let us be students of history, and not follow the errors of those who overreacted in Edwards’ day. Let us worship and serve the Lord with zeal, fervency, heartfelt devotion, and yes, the duty of affection.