by Ginny Owens
God’s Problem with Religion
The Lord insisted Isaiah “cry out loudly” about His people’s sins (v. 1). Though they did religious things, they were merely posing as a faithful people. The fact that they didn’t “do” God’s justice demonstrated the true state of their hearts. They were interested in knowing God’s ways, feeling Him near, and having His justice and mercy work in their favor (vv. 1–2). They felt pretty great about their superspirituality and asked the Lord why He wasn’t impressed. He replied in essence, “Even on the days you fast, you are oppressing others. Your religion stinks; your hearts and your actions are truly ugly. Why would I be moved by your fasting?” (vv. 3–4).
God’s problem with the people was that they were practicing the rituals of religion, not living in light of His blessing. If they were truly worshipping Him, they would have been in awe of Him and would have been pursuing the things He loves, including justice and mercy. To not pursue justice and mercy is to not pursue God.
At the end of the chapter, God challenged His people to honor the Sabbath, to keep “from doing whatever you want on my holy day … not going your own ways, seeking your own pleasure, or talking business; then you will delight in the LORD” (vv. 13–14).
Interestingly, in God’s messages via the prophets, honoring the Sabbath and meeting the needs of the oppressed are often spoken of in the same passage, as they are here. The root of the people’s sin was their lack of trust in God and respect for His authority. They didn’t honor His Sabbath by resting. They didn’t offer His care to suffering members of their community. Instead, they served themselves, continuing to turn away from God and oppress others.
Doing True Worship
We, like the children of Israel, tend to prefer religious practices to action. We want to sit with God and feel Him near. We want to know what His will is for our lives and watch Him do fabulous things with our unique gifts. But we forget that when we belong to Him, we are given not only a beautifully unique set of gifts and resources but also direct access to His will.
God said repeatedly that a most important part of doing His will is to love the poor and needy. Not only was it a message He had Moses and the prophets sing frequently, but it was also a mission Jesus carried out and passed along to His followers. They took it literally by selling some of their possessions so that every one of their church members was provided for (Acts 2:45).
Just like those who have come before, we serve, love, and care for others because we remember how we were lost and wandering and how He rescued us and now carries us in His arms of love. To find God is not to remain on our knees, indefinitely pondering Him. It is to rise to our feet and go do what He has called us to do with the love He has given us. And as we do, He will empower us and shape our abilities in the most amazing, unexpected ways.
During my last couple of years living in Nashville, my friend Kori taught me a lot about how to worship with my actions. Her full-time gig is working with local refugees from all over the world who have been resettled in the US by NGOs. I’ve gotten to be involved in many of her adventures with Nashville World Outreach Partnership, but the most unexpected was when she asked if I’d help lead a Bible study for middle school girls. Most of the girls were from Burma but had been raised in a refugee camp in Thailand. I loved the idea, but I was hesitant at first. I have so little time as it is. And so much to do. But in a moment of clarity, I said yes.
On the first afternoon of the Bible study, we collected the girls from their homes into a van and headed to the apartment of one of the middle schoolers, where there was enough space for all of us. Everyone sat on the floor in a circle, sharing a big bag of clementines and some milk. We talked about the good things from the day and the hard things.
School is very difficult for most of these girls since English is their second language. Life after school is also challenging, as many of their parents work multiple jobs to have enough money for food and rent. Several of these tweens were taking care of their younger siblings till their parents got home late at night—cooking for them and helping them with their homework and then doing their own.
After we talked about those things, we laid before God our requests for protection, for strength in school, and for enough money for food. Then we studied the story of how God provided for Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden.
To close out our time, we sang several worship songs together. To hear young girls who have very little, who have been to hell and back, praising at the top of their lungs—“Bless the Lord, oh my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name!” (Ps. 103:1)—is an experience I don’t have words for. I spent most of our worship times trying not to bawl as all the words we sang took on new meaning for me.
During that first Bible study, I felt as if the Lord were saying, “What better thing could you possibly have to do than worship here?”
Loving and serving those who have needs I don’t is key to doing His will. Needless to say, middle school Bible study became a favorite part of my week until I moved away from Nashville. And when I go back, we try to get the gang together to sing and hang out. God meets me through the lives of those girls in ways He couldn’t if I sat holed up in prayer by myself. As I chat, sing, and pray with them, I get a sense of God’s heart for them. I wouldn’t be able to see it or feel it if I weren’t there.
To God, it’s good to fast by denying yourself bread, but it’s even better to share your bread. True worship is to deny our need to be comfortable and instead to serve others with what we have. Our time with God is of utmost importance—but if it doesn’t inspire change, if it doesn’t lead us to go and do, we must ask whether we’re actually spending time with God with open hearts or just enjoying the quiet.
I should take a moment here to consider a thought that might be running through your mind and often runs through mine: I can’t add another thing to my life.
“Doing” can become its own ritual, its own religion. Most of us are tired; the idea of adding something more to our to-do lists is overwhelming. But what if we saw this work as a way to commune with God? A way to worship and honor Him? A way He teaches us to see the world more clearly and know His heart more deeply?
After the Lord challenged Israel on their view of worship, He gave them a practical list of things to do. He said they should break the chains of wickedness, set the oppressed free, share bread with the hungry, bring the poor and homeless into their houses, clothe the naked, stop the finger-pointing and malicious talk, and be attentive to the people and needs around them (Isa. 58:6–7, 9).
The Lord promised that if His people would do these things, He would walk with them, answering them, giving them strength, and protecting them. And He would give them the ability to rebuild the city of Jerusalem, which then lay in ruins. Not only that, but His people themselves would also be a living, breathing, radiant example of Him. Together, they as a community would radiate God’s light to the world (vv. 8–12).
Doing justice and mercy, then, is not only a way we please God; it is also how we reflect God and how we bring His hope to the world in tangible form. When we are connected to His heart for people, we are able to be His hands and feet. And for us, He brings not only clear vision but also deep satisfaction in Him as we pursue what He loves.
A couple of years ago, I visited Thailand to lead worship at a conference for Rescue:Freedom International, an organization fighting human trafficking and sexual exploitation. The attendees were partners working all over the world to free children, women, and men from slavery. I’ve always been a supporter of antitrafficking work in theory, but as the rescue workers shared stories from their day-to-day lives with me, I was profoundly moved.
Their work is hard. Endless risks are involved. It can take years to build trust with those who are being exploited. Sometimes the local and national governments offer no protection. The rescue workers risk their lives fighting for the freedom of the oppressed.
As they work relentlessly in the trenches, the Lord is ofte
n their only sustaining power and hope, giving them eyes for what needs to be done next and the strength to do it. Many of them told me that the endless fight for freedom would be too difficult to face each day if they did not believe it was God’s mission—and the one He had called them to.
They keep going, trusting that, even in the hardest moments when they do not understand, God is in the midst of their work and will continue to sustain them every time they come to the end of their strength. I heard their faith each night as we sang of our hope together.
Jesus’ Song of Justice
After Isaiah served as God’s mouthpiece for justice, he told of someone who had been commissioned by God to come and free the oppressed (Isa. 61:1–2).
Hundreds of years later, Jesus stood in the synagogue in His hometown, reading to the people from that very scroll: “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set free the oppressed” (Luke 4:18).
He then told His captivated audience that these words of Isaiah had been fulfilled in their hearing (v. 21). God’s Son came not only to deliver us from our captivity to fear, guilt, and shame but also to demonstrate how to live the heart of God by doing all those things literally.
Jesus took this Old Testament message a step further. He said that when we serve others—first and foremost, fellow believers—we are serving Him personally. Anticipating what He will say on the last day to those who followed Him, Jesus gave this list:
I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.… As you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me. (Matt. 25:35–36, 40 ESV)
In other words, those receiving the gift of the kingdom of God were those whose love for God motivated them to care for their brothers and sisters in Christ who were in need. Each time they had done so, they had metaphorically cared for Jesus’ physical needs. They were not doing this to earn favor, but their acts of mercy showed that they belonged to Him.2
We hear Jesus continue the Lord’s call for justice and mercy, and we see in the Gospels how He lived it out each day of His life. But where and how do we answer this call? Where do we begin?
The Bigger Story
In Galatians 6:10, Paul exhorted the church to “do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers” (NIV).
In the early centuries of Christianity, the Roman world could not make sense of this odd religion and its practices. Women, especially widows—who had no clout in society—not only made up the majority of the church population but also played important roles in its care ministries.3 Perhaps most perplexing to outsiders was Christians’ robust love and care for one another and for the general public.
The fourth-century emperor Julian said in a letter, “It is disgraceful that, when no Jew ever has to beg, and the impious Galilaeans [Christians] support not only their own poor but ours as well, all men see that our people lack aid from us.”4 Those who didn’t have God had no reason to be generous. But both God and His Son insist that we radiate love through our actions.
Before we think about serving the wide world, let’s consider serving those right under our noses. Serving Jesus means serving members of His local body first and foremost. Quite frankly, the idea of contributing money to organizations working on the other side of the world or getting a group together to serve at a soup kitchen across town is a much sexier proposition than serving the poor, needy, and often annoying right here among us. There’s nothing wrong (and everything right) with serving those who are far away, for sure. But let’s address our immediate, body-of-Christ neighbors first.
Who is your neighbor? I am, for one.
If you didn’t know me and you met me trying to find my way into your church building or walking down your street with my white cane, how would you treat me? To avoid the awkwardness, would you turn tail and run when I came your direction? Or would you say hi and ask if I needed help?
Would you be interested in being my friend?
If you tend to avoid awkward, unknown, or difficult people, you are not alone. I often have the same reaction until I check myself. I don’t want to care for those whose challenges might take my precious time either.
But there is a key message in God’s song through Isaiah and also in Jesus’ songs: take care of your own—those who are in need in your local body of believers. Jesus’ brother James said to the church, “Listen, my dear brothers and sisters: Didn’t God choose the poor in this world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom that he has promised to those who love him?” (James 2:5).
Jesus sang this same beautiful news: the poor and the meek are the ones who are given the keys to the kingdom (Matt. 5:3, 5). When we are “rich,” we perceive that we have control over our lives and we sense our need for God less. But those who have little have less trouble seeing their need and their inability to make it on their own.
Trusting God is easier when we know we can’t trust ourselves. Those who have less often have a wiser perspective on the world and their need for God. That’s why we should not only serve them but also learn from them. And those receiving service can accept help with grace and love.
But don’t miss the other key truth here: Christianity ignores class distinctions. It doesn’t matter who you are, where you’ve come from, or what your financial status is—everyone is equal in the body of Christ. That includes both the giver and the receiver of aid.
I have been exceedingly blessed to live a very full life. But I know many folks with physical, emotional, or financial challenges who live unbelievably isolated lives. And I have certainly tasted this pain in many seasons. Many of those who, because of ongoing needs, live in isolation don’t always respond well to love. They haven’t had the opportunity to learn how.
So if you meet someone at church who could use help finding a seat or paying for food, do not have pity on her. Instead, invite her into your circle. It will make all the difference in her life and yours. Why? Here’s a singing analogy that might help.
During high school choral competitions, our one-hundred-voice concert choir would often link arms or pinkie fingers as we performed. The physical connection helped us breathe together, stop together, and match pitch. It was unifying, and it usually made us successful in competitions.
Serving is not merely doing for others, though that is part of it. It is singing the good news of Jesus to them until they are able to sing along with you. In other words, serving in Jesus’ way means pouring life and power into each other so that we are able to pour into the world.
Some Christians are seen and known only by their service—it defines them. Others are defined by their need to be served. But each of us needs to serve and be served in different ways, and standing together, being united in Christ’s love, is the only way to create a beautiful chorus. Then we, by God’s grace, can effectively serve the world in His name.
During my time as a worship leader at a church in Nashville, I got involved in several small groups. Many folks had never met a blind person before, but bonds formed as we embarked on the adventure of becoming friends. One wonderful retired couple, who are busier than most working people I know, regularly offered me rides to church events. During our conversations, I learned about the Next Door, a treatment program for women recovering from addictions. Soon enough, I was joining them frequently for trips to spend time with the ladies, singing, bringing morning devotions, and hearing their stories.
This couple’s service to me within the church led me to serve others outside our church. It was incredibly meaningful work to be doing with friends. We got to see Jesus at work in each other’s lives as well as in the lives of others.
Church is also where I met my good friend Kori, who invited me into all kinds of wonderful adventures wi
th refugees. I continue to be amazed by how building relationships with my neighbors not only helps me love and serve them but also helps me catch a vision of how to serve the world beyond our immediate circle.
Serving others is a one-step-at-a-time process. The best place to start is to ask God to open your eyes to whom and how you might serve. You could ask your pastors or other church members about needs they know of among your members. Or you could go over to the person across the room who looks as if he needs a friend and simply be that friend.
Whatever our starting point or our next step may be, loving and serving—and singing through the process—works only when we reflect on how we have been deeply loved and cared for. Because Jesus loved us enough to live a perfect, humble life and die in our place, we are free to love others through our actions, first within our church community, and then beyond.
Paul insisted that, instead of living to please ourselves, we live to build up our neighbors. Not out of religious duty. Not even to try to please God. But with a song of remembrance and reflection in our souls: Christ, the king of all, lived not to please Himself but to carry our pain (see Rom. 15:1–3). In light of the cross, we can eagerly carry the cares of others. What could possibly reflect the gospel more?
Your Song of Justice and Mercy
Today, as we reflect on God’s heart for those in need and Jesus’ physical demonstration of God’s heart, I can think of several songs we could write. One would be a prayer for eyes to see the needs around us and for hearts that are so moved by Jesus’ love for us that we become eager and empowered to meet those needs. Or maybe you’re already passionate about a cause or a need and you want to lament and plead with God for a solution. Whatever the case, here are some lyrics to get you started:
Take my life and let it be
