Stimulus–response. An amoeba does it. A Venus fly trap does it. A snake does it. We do it.
A tap on the knee and our leg kicks out, all by itself! Automatically, without consulting the rest of us. Even our brain is surprised. Reflexes are part of our programming designed to protect, support and allow us to move even without our permission. A sign we’re alive! Some things are just too important for a committee decision.
This morning I read, “True worship is a response to God’s glory, the evidence of God’s presence and power displayed in our lives…” (Christy Bailey, Devozine magazine)
What if worship was more than a worship service? More than a good sermon? More than a praise song? More than a few bucks in the offering plate? What if worship was stimulus-response, any time, anywhere? What if, when God got my attention I let my reflexes do the responding. What if…
- When God taps me, I respond.
- When God touches my heart, I cry.
- When God tickles me, I giggle.
- When God calls me, I turn.
- When God whistles, I look up.
- When God calls me to dinner, I come to the table.
- When God shows me a miracle, I stand still.
- When God thinks in me, I write.
- When God writes to me, I correspond.
- When God speaks, I listen.
- When God whispers, I lean in.
- When God invites, I accept.
- When God hugs, I sigh.
- When God kisses, I smile.
- When God takes my hand, I squeeze.
- When God opens a door, I walk through.
- When God says, I do.
- When God does, I join in.
- When God sends a sunrise, I applaud.
- When I see God, I point him out.
If God and I have a reflex relationship, there’s no sense beating myself up about a missed opportunity, any more than I’d chastise my leg for not kicking when the doctor tapped my knee with the hammer. And it’d be pretty silly to kick later hoping to get full credit. I would have to be extra careful about responding from fear or anxiety, though. You know what a haunted house can do to your reflexes.
Imagine, something as simple as ‘stimulus-response’ wired in so God and I can connect 24-7.
At 9:35 am God said, “Good morning” in the dazzling rays through my window.
I said, “Good morning, sunshine.” And there was worship on a Wednesday in my kitchen.