At the dawn of the 20th century, American Christianity faced a defining moment. The Fundamentalist-Modernist controversy split churches and denominations over the question of biblical authority. Fundamentalists and evangelicals stood their ground on biblical inerrancy, making “people of the Book” their rallying cry against liberal theology’s challenges to Scripture’s authority. They saw themselves as the defenders of biblical truth against modernist compromises.
A century later, this historical irony haunts our churches: many of the same evangelical traditions that fought so fiercely for biblical authority have unconsciously minimized Scripture’s role in their worship services. As church leaders have chased relevance and novelty, we’ve inadvertently stripped away something precious from our congregations: their sense of identity as God’s people formed by God’s Word. While we pride ourselves on being “people of the Book,” in our worship services, the Bible often takes a backseat to what’s trending, what’s novel, or what simply feels right in the moment. As someone who grew up in the free church tradition, I’m deeply grateful for the high view of Scripture I inherited. However, I’ve come to realize that our practice doesn’t always align with our proclamation.
The Current State of Evangelical Worship
In many evangelical churches, the only guaranteed encounter with Scripture comes at the beginning of the pastor’s sermon—and sometimes, not even then. Our worship services, rather than being anchored in God’s Word, often float on the changing tides of personal preference and contemporary trends. Song selections are frequently made on Sunday morning based on the worship leader’s intuition or what we reverently call “the leading of the Spirit.”
This approach stems partly from a well-intentioned but misguided fear of “vain repetition.” We’ve somehow convinced ourselves that extemporaneous equals authentic, that unrehearsed means more spiritual. Prayers should be spontaneous, preaching should follow whatever’s “on the heart,” and worship should flow wherever the moment leads.
The Cost of Constant Novelty
In our pursuit of freshness and relevance, we’ve unwittingly subjected ourselves to what I call “the tyranny of novelty.” Worship leaders and pastors exhaust themselves trying to generate new, creative ideas week after week. We’ve fallen into the trap Neil Postman identified years ago—we’re amusing ourselves to death, even in our worship. As Postman presciently wrote in his 1985 work, “When a population becomes distracted by trivia, when cultural life is redefined as a perpetual round of entertainments, when serious public conversation becomes a form of baby-talk, when, in short, a people become an audience and their public business a vaudeville act, then a nation finds itself at risk.” The parallel to our current worship practices is striking—when our services become a “perpetual round of entertainments,” we risk losing the very substance of our faith.
The post-COVID era has revealed a growing weariness with this approach. Both young and old congregants seem tired of the constant chase for the new and novel. They’re hungry for something more substantial, more rooted, more lasting. This hunger, I believe, reflects a deeper yearning for identity—not just as contemporary Christians trying to stay relevant, but as part of the historic, eternal body of Christ shaped by His unchanging Word.
C.S. Lewis warns against what he calls “chronological snobbery”—the assumption that newer is necessarily better. He writes, “Every age has its own outlook. It is especially good at seeing certain truths and specially liable to make certain mistakes.” This insight should humble us in our pursuit of novelty.
Martin Luther, despite being a revolutionary figure, understood the importance of maintaining a connection with historical Christian worship. He argued, “We do not abolish the Mass but religiously keep and defend it… We do not introduce anything novel but keep the traditional form.” Even in the midst of massive reform, Luther recognized the value of rooted, historical worship practices.
Learning from Ancient Wisdom
The early church offers us compelling examples of Scripture-saturated worship. In fourth-century Jerusalem, Bishop Cyril’s catechetical lectures provide a stunning example of Scripture-immersed teaching. In his lectures to candidates for baptism, he declared, “Let us not then pass these things by lightly, but carefully treasure them in our souls.” His approach was deeply biblical—in a single lecture on baptism, he would weave together passages from Genesis, the Psalms, the Prophets, and the New Testament, showing how all of Scripture pointed to Christ and shaped Christian identity.
These catechumens studied the entire Bible, from Genesis to Revelation, for three months. Cyril’s method wasn’t just educational—it was transformational. He wrote, “Let us then, my brethren, endure in hope. Let us devote ourselves, side-by-side with our hoping, so that the God of all the universe, as he beholds our intention, may cleanse us from all sins, fill us with high hopes from what we have in hand, and grant us the change of heart that saves. God has called you, and you have your calling.” The journey culminated in Easter Sunday baptisms at sunrise—a powerful symbol of identification with the risen Christ that connected individual transformation with the broader story of redemption.
This rich tradition reminds us that meaningful repetition isn’t the enemy of authentic worship. Prayer books, church lectionaries, and the Christian calendar aren’t constraints but tools that help us grasp the narrative of redemption. Consider this prayer from the Book of Common Prayer, ideally suited for a new believer learning to pray:
“Heavenly Father, in you we live and move and have our being: We humbly pray you so to guide and govern us by your Holy Spirit, that in all the cares and occupations of our life, we may not forget you, but may remember that we are ever walking in your sight; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”
Notice how this simple prayer teaches essential truths: our complete dependence on God, the role of the Holy Spirit, the reality of daily distractions, and the mediating work of Christ—all while providing words that anyone can pray. Such prayers become tutors in the faith, teaching us how to approach God while giving voice to our deepest needs. How different my early Christian journey might have been had I known these resources existed!
The same is true for Scripture reading. The ancient practice of lectio divina provides a time-tested framework for engaging with God’s Word meaningfully. Imagine how many young believers might be spared the frustration of aimless Bible reading if we introduced them to these proven patterns of spiritual formation.
I remember my early years as a Christian. Despite my genuine hunger for God, I struggled to develop a meaningful prayer and devotional life. The advice I received, while well-intentioned, often amounted to “just pray what’s on your heart” or “read your Bible daily.” Still, I wrestled – staring at the pages of Scripture, unsure where to begin, or sitting in silence, struggling to find words for prayer that felt more substantial than a hastily compiled wish list.
It wasn’t until my adult years that I discovered spiritual formation practices Christians have used for centuries.
A Return to Scripture-Guided Worship
As a worship leader, my perspective began to shift after encountering Dr. Joe Crider’s book “Scripture Guided Worship.” His central thesis enhanced my thinking: God is always previous. He is the prompter, and we are the responders. This is the pattern of the gospel—we love because He first loved us (1 John 4:19). Therefore, to be true, “people of the Book,” shouldn’t our worship services revolve around the Word?
Consider how this might look in practice. Instead of selecting songs based on personal whim, we can draw from the rich well of liturgy and Christian calendar. During Epiphany, we can read from Isaiah 60 and respond with songs that celebrate Christ’s majesty. We can incorporate Psalm 72 and let the congregation declare with Joachim Neander’s timeless hymn, “Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation! O my soul, praise Him, for He is thy health and salvation!” Of course, these songs and readings can be changed and modified based on your local worshiping community. Ultimately, worship becomes a dialogue—God speaks through His Word, and we respond in song, prayer, and proclamation.
A Call to Action
As worship leaders, what’s at stake? We bear the weighty responsibility of putting words in people’s mouths. It’s time we expanded our vision beyond selecting songs. What if we returned to the beautiful prayers that have shaped Christians for centuries? What if we embraced the Christian calendar as a way to root our congregations in the gospel story? What if we truly became “people of the Book” by intentionally saturating our services with Scripture?
History shows us that genuine renewal among God’s people has never come through novel revelations but through the return to God’s Word. Whether it was King Josiah rediscovering the law, Ezra expounding the Scriptures to the returning exiles, or Jesus himself opening the minds of the Emmaus travelers to understand the Old Testament, revival has always been rooted in return to Scripture.
It’s crucial to understand that this call to return to Scripture isn’t a rejection of God’s ongoing work in our midst. Our God is indeed One who declares, “Behold, I am doing a new thing” (Isaiah 43:19). Yet He is also the Ancient of Days (Daniel 7:9), unchanging in His character and truth. What we need isn’t a new revelation but a fresh reading—not novel words but renewed encounters with the eternal Word. When we say we need “a fresh word from the Lord,” we must return to the complete revelation he has given us, allowing His Spirit to illuminate it anew in our hearts and communities.
Looking Ahead
As we move into the new year, I want to challenge worship leaders and pastors: let’s break free from the tyranny of novelty. Let’s embrace a liturgy that puts God’s Word back in the mouths of God’s people—a living word that shapes us into the image of Christ, confronts us with our need for confession and grace, and holds space for both lament and celebration.
This isn’t a call to rigid formalism but to thoughtful, Scripture-guided worship that allows God’s Word to be what it has always been—the primary prompter of our praise, the shaper of our prayers, and the foundation of our faith. In doing so, we might find that we become not just people who claim to honor the Book, but people who are truly shaped by it.
Josh Cehulik 