Several weeks ago, I was driving east on I-80 to preach at a church in a nearby state when my rear
driver-side wheel flew off completely—rim and all. I immediately heard and felt a loud thump and, in
my rear-view mirror, saw a spray of sparks shooting out from the back of my car. I managed to guide
the car off to the side of the road and try to calm down. By God’s grace, there was a truck stop nearby
and I was able to get some help.
The next morning, still shaken by the events of the previous night, I attended the service and took my
seat as it began and proceeded along.
It was during the pastoral intercessory prayer—during the midst of prayer—that the following words
were prayed: “When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul” (Ps. 94:19).
Almost immediately, the car cares—“How damaged is my car?” “What will be the costs?” “How will I
even get to the shop?”—fled away as scriptural truth took tangible hold of my soul. In that moment,
my captivity to a cares of this world was exchanged for a vision of the Lord’s intention to care for his
children. An aggravating providence became gospel confidence.
What was so surprising about that moment was just how unsurprising it was. Psalm 94 was the next
Psalm in the consecutive, weekly reading and praying through of the Psalms. It was one reading of
three Scripture readings from both the Old and New Testaments. And Psalm reading/praying was a
regular feature in a well-defined worship service. In fact, one of the elders said regarding the service,
“Yup, we’re just plain vanilla Presbyterians.”
And it was beautiful.
Simple and Ordinary
Much of the beauty of Reformed worship is in its simplicity and ordinariness. It is simple (not
simplistic) and ordinary because it aims to do simply what God has commanded and ordained—
nothing more, nothing less. It values divine receptivity (what God says) over human creativity (what
man conceives). John Calvin rightly and repeatedly warned believers against “vain imaginations” and
how they must always give way to biblical revelation, especially in worship.
There is comfort in knowing that every element in the worship service is something explicitly
warranted by Scripture; that pastor and elder can open the Bible and point to specific passages and
make Scripture-based arguments when asked specific questions about the “why” of worship. It
alleviates the pressure to pastorally innovate in a quest to keep sheep engaged and interested.
If this kind of worship is simple, it is simple in an E=mc
2
or “And God said…” (Gen. 1:3) kind of way—
transparently clear and economical as statements, but housing an inexhaustible storehouse of
meaning and impact beneath the deceptively simple surface. In worship, we are called to do simple
things, having this assurance: when we attend to what God directly commands, we should expect our
Father in heaven—by the Spirit through our vital union with Jesus Christ (who makes our worship
acceptable)—to work in ways that nurture and sustain us for our good and his glory. When that elder
read and prayed Psalm 94, simply doing what the church does week in and week out, the Word spoke
in a simple but powerful way to the condition of my soul. This is Reformed worship—simultaneously
simple, profound, and beautiful.
Put plainly, the straightforward and ordinary means we should emphasize in worship are the Word,
sacraments, and prayer (cf. Westminster Shorter Catechism, 88).
God’s Word
Special attention is to be given to the Word when the saints gather for worship. We are to read and
teach it (1 Tim. 4:13). And when attended with diligence and preparation and received with faith, the
Word builds up and makes salvation effectual and real in the lives of believers. This is true whether
the preacher is endowed with abundant grace and a gift for preaching or is quite unremarkable. When
rightly preached and heard, the Word—by God’s Spirit—leaps the gap and builds us up in our most
holy faith.