
Request your free, three-month trial to Tabletalk magazine. You’ll receive the print issue monthly and gain immediate digital access to decades of archives. This trial is risk-free. No credit card required.
Try Tabletalk NowAlready receive Tabletalk magazine every month?
Verify your email address to gain unlimited access.
When I was a teenager, “getting ready for church” mainly consisted of picking out a cute outfit and grabbing my Bible on my way out the door. Fast-forward a couple of decades, and Sunday preparations involve a lot more than ironing a dress. Getting out the door with bread for the Lord’s Supper, children dressed in clean clothes, and a meal prepared for hospitality means that Saturday is a day of forethought and hard work.
If I’m honest, it’s great to walk out the door feeling ready for the day. Is the slow cooker set to low? Check. Child number 2 needs a pencil to take notes? Check. I’ve got three. There are many ways that we can be externally prepared, and giving thought to these things can indeed reflect a high view of the Lord’s Day, which is good and right. If I’m running around trying to find matching shoes at 8:55, it’s a lot more likely that I’ll arrive to worship with a frazzled heart.
Yet detailed external preparations do not magically guarantee the inward preparation of the heart. My Bible may be packed and my slow cooker full, but what is the condition of my heart toward God and His people? Getting out the door for church does not cause the daily burdens we carried the preceding week to magically disappear. And Sunday is undoubtedly Satan’s favorite day to make those burdens feel especially heavy so as to make our hearts cold and hard.
Speaking of the Pharisees in Matthew 15:8, Jesus said, “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me.” We may not be worshiping God “in vain” (v. 9) in the same way that the Pharisees were, but even if we have our doctrine settled, it’s entirely possible to arrive at worship and go through the motions with hearts far from God.
We desperately need the Holy Spirit to help us fight against this, and one of the best ways that we can do that is by taking time to ask God to make us hungry for the feast and humble for the fellowship.
Lord’s Day worship—singing, corporate prayer, Scripture reading, preaching, and sacraments—ought to be a feast for our souls. One way to come hungry is by reading in advance the passage that will be preached, or even going over the whole liturgy if it’s available. Think of any questions you might have. If it’s a familiar passage, pray that God would open it up in a deeper way. Confess your lack of understanding or interest. Name the present burdens that may distract you during worship and entrust them afresh to the Lord.
One of the outworkings of true humility is love for God’s people, even those who are awkward or unlikable. It’s easy to turn inward and let both pride and preference shape our interactions on Sunday. We can pray beforehand that providence would instead direct our fellowship, even if that means getting out of our comfort zone or missing a conversation with a close friend. And then we can be expectant that God will actually answer those prayers.