A dangerous book

Mark Labberton doesn't seem a likely candidate to write such an "in your face" challenging book as The Dangerous Act of Worship: Living God's Call to Justice. For 16 years he pastored the venerable (by California standards) First Presbyterian Church of Berkeley -- not your typical mainline church, but mainline nonetheless. I came to this book through my pastor and his wife who were formerly on staff there. But seasons of ministry in far-flung places like Uganda and India, as well as a formative friendship with Gary Haugen, founder of International Justice Mission, gave Labberton a message he was compelled to get off his chest. At least that's how it seemed to this reader. TDAOW reads like a book by a man on fire.

It's a blunt critique, but Labberton is as hard on himself and the church he pastored as he is on the mainline left and evangelical right. His primary contention is that much of the American church is sleepwalking through worship, preoccupied with stylistic "worship wars" and worried about false dangers in worship (e.g., worship that's not under control or worship that doesn't seem relevant), yet blind to "real dangers". Worship that doesn't change us is a real danger. Worship that lies about God is a real danger.

This book calls on the church to search herself. Do our lives show forth the God we claim to worship? Does worship result in a reorientation of our lives around God's purposes in the world? Do we really believe that encountering the true and living God changes everything? Labberton makes a solid biblical case that the fault line between true and false worship is intimately bound up with the prophet's imperative to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God.

Here's a taste:

Our context is breathtakingly different from the norm for millions and millions around the world. On a trip to India, for example, I remember talking to a pastor about books and reading. He said, "If I save for four months, I am able to buy one Christian book through a discount I am offered. I have never traveled outside India, but I have heard that sometimes people in America buy books and don't read them." He asked with dismay, "Is that really true?" I mumbled something to cover my embarrassment, as I thought of just such books on my shelves at home.

It's not a matter of if we have bought books we don't read, but how many. It's not whether we get our children's inoculations, but whether we can keep track of the paperwork to prove it to the schools. It's not whether we eat, but how much we eat beyond what we need or even want. It's not whether we have a bed, but what color and theme the bed coverings will be. It's not whether we have a chance to hear about the love of God in Jesus Christ, but which ministry or church or medium we like best.

Some people in our own country don't have these choices (a scandal in itself). But most people in America do. Meanwhile, millions in the Southern Hemisphere and in Asia have never lived a single day with choices like these.

This disparity between economics and justice is an issue of worship. According to the narrative of Scripture, the very heart of how we show and distinguish true worship from false worship is apparent in how we respond to the poor, the oppressed, the neglected and the forgotten. As of now, I do not see this theme troubling the waters of worship in the American church. But justice and mercy are not add-ons to worship, nor are they the consequences of worship. Justice and mercy are intrinsic to God and therefore intrinsic to the worship of God. (pp. 37-38)

One of my favorite sections of the book is the chapter on the Sabbath. Paradoxically, "a life that does justice rises out of worship, which starts with rest. . ." (p. 95)

More here.