Broken hallelujahs still reach heaven

Eric Gaudion reflects on worship through pain and why God still hears our quietest prayers

Have there been days when you just couldn’t lift your voice in the worship songs, let alone your hands? Days when tears fell more readily than talk, when you wished you could sit at the back of the crowd, just to be quiet with your heavy heart. There certainly have been in my experience, and I feel deeply for those who struggle, even if only occasionally, to join the crowd of enthusiastic worshippers.

During the 22 long years of my battle with acute and chronic pancreatitis – one of the most painful conditions known in medicine – I led Pentecostal worship and preached whenever I was strong enough, often sitting down to do so. I was always conscious of those who were struggling with pain or mental distress, but who had managed to be in the meetings. I hope that my colleagues and friends who lead our churches will always try to bear them in mind too, asking God to give us creative and helpful ways to make space in our gatherings for those going through stuff that makes it hard for them to join in.

I can recall becoming choked and unable to sing, for instance, whenever the gathering chanted that when there is pain in the offering, they would still bless God! They were right, of course, and this song was born of the author’s own bereavement, but for most singers it would be theory, whilst for me it was intensely practical and personal.

But real worship is not just all bright lights and loud songs. It’s not only about perfect harmonies, and proclamations of truth, sometimes it’s just about being there, among God’s people, when that might be the last thing you would choose to do. Sometimes it’s just whispering, ‘Jesus, please help me’. Occasionally it may be sitting in silence and letting your heart break open in his presence.

And that is the wonderful truth, he is here! God leans in to hear your whispered prayer. He calls what you are doing ‘holy’. Psalm 34:18 says that the Lord is close to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. He never turns away a cry for help that rises from a needy heart, even if those around are oblivious, caught up with the rhythm or the vibe of the moment.

So, don’t disqualify yourself if all or some of the above applies to you. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that God only wants your strong moments. He wants your real ones too. When all were surrounding Jesus, pushing and shoving to be nearest to him, he felt virtue and power go out of himself when a poor little sick woman reached out a timorous hand to touch the hem of his robe. The heart of our God is most wonderfully tender and kind. This lady’s faith caused her to press through her sense of uncleanness and enabled her to reach out and receive her miracle that day.

There is a whole theology in the Word of God about the important place of brokenness in God’s kingdom. Isaiah 28:28 reminds us that “grain must be ground to make bread” and Jesus taught about the eternal value of the grain of wheat that falls to the ground and dies, bringing forth much fruit. Just before going to the cross Jesus portrayed himself to his disciples as broken bread. Broken people are always welcome in this wonderful kingdom, and God takes notice of our tears.

Worship that is breathed out during pain, or as-yet unanswered prayer, disappointment and grief, through tears and perhaps in silent, secret moments, is always noticed in heaven. Broken hallelujahs may not impress onlookers, but they touch the throne of God.

This article first appeared in Direction Magazine. For further details, please click here.