Whatever You Do, Don’t Raise Your Hands in Church

Let’s be honest – raising your hands in church is a dangerous proposition.

One moment, you’re safely keeping your appendages to yourself, the next, you’re accidentally knocking your neighbor’s Bible to the floor. Or worse, you’ve forgotten you’re still holding your coffee, and now the worship team is getting an unexpected baptism from the front row.

There’s the risk of raising your arms only to suddenly realize you can’t remember if you put on deodorant amid the morning hustle to get to church or becoming “that person” who knocks over the elderly prayer warrior in the next seat with an enthusiastic hand gesture. Kneeling might wrinkle your pants or, worse, make that awkward knee-cracking sound during a quiet moment. Bowing too enthusiastically could lead to a head collision with the pew in front of you. And dancing? Well, that’s just asking for trouble in the form of sprained ankles, confused ushers, potentially clearing a five-foot radius around you, and suddenly receiving a visit from the church security team.

Sometimes I wonder if worship wouldn’t be more convenient if we were just floating souls. No awkward limbs to manage. No physical distractions. Just pure, disembodied spiritual connection.

But here’s the thing – God seems unconcerned with our practical reasons for keeping our statuesque poses. In fact, He appears to have intentionally designed worship as an embodied experience.

God cares so deeply about our physical bodies that He promises resurrection, not just spiritual existence. As Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 15:53-54, “For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality.” God doesn’t discard our bodies in His redemptive plan—He renews them. He doesn’t replace them with disembodied souls in the new heaven and new earth—He resurrects and perfects them.

Scripture suggests there might be surprising benefits to taking the “dangerous” risk of physical expression in worship with the bodies He created and will one day perfect.

So why did God give us bodies for worship in the first place? And what might we be missing when we keep those hands spot-welded to our hips?

You’ve been dragging your body to church all these years, but have you ever wondered why?

The Standing Problem

“Why do we have to stand so much in church?” I hear people complain. “My knees hurt. My back aches. The person in front of me is blocking the screen.”

But standing in scripture isn’t just about giving your posterior a break from the pews. Standing is a posture of readiness, attentiveness, and honor.

In 2 Chronicles 20:19, the Levites “stood up to praise the Lord God of Israel with a very loud voice.” When Ezra opened the book of the Law, “all the people stood up” (Nehemiah 8:5). Standing acknowledges the significance of what’s happening.

Of course, we

Nothing is a more compelling witness to Jesus than when, in our weakness, He is our strength.

Here’s the bottom line: When you stand in worship, you’re physically declaring that what’s happening is significant enough to get up for. In a culture where convenience is king, that’s a powerful statement.

The Kneeling Dilemma

“But these pants are new, and the floors aren’t that clean…”

Kneeling has largely disappeared from many modern worship services, and I think we’ve lost something significant.

In scripture, kneeling represents humility, reverence, and submission. Daniel knelt three times daily to pray (Daniel 6:10). Solomon knelt before the assembly of Israel (2 Chronicles 6:13). Even Jesus knelt to pray in Gethsemane (Luke 22:41).

Here’s what’s fascinating: Something happens when you physically lower yourself. Kneeling isn’t just about expressing humility—it can actually create humility. Your body has wisdom your mind sometimes misses.

In a culture obsessed with status and standing, the simple act of kneeling might be one of the most countercultural things you do all week.

The Hands Dilemma: What Do I Do With These Things?

Maybe you’re the person who keeps your hands firmly planted at your sides during worship. Or perhaps you’re the pocket-dweller, keeping those hands safely tucked away where they can’t get you into trouble.

But hands in worship might be the most biblically rich physical expression we have:

• Raised hands appear throughout scripture as symbols of surrender (Psalm 141:2), receptivity (Psalm 143:6), and blessing (Nehemiah 8:6)
• Clapping hands expresses joy and triumph (Psalm 47:1)
• Open palms symbolize receiving and offering, as seen when Solomon stood “with his hands spread out toward heaven” (1 Kings 8:22) and when David described “the lifting up of my hands as the evening sacrifice” (Psalm 141:2)
• Clasped hands, while more of a traditional posture than an explicitly biblical one, can embody the earnest prayer and focus we see throughout Scripture

In 1 Timothy 2:8, Paul writes, “I want the men everywhere to pray, lifting up holy hands.” This wasn’t just a cultural quirk but a meaningful practice across the early church.

Here’s the key insight: Your hands aren’t just appendages for sending memes and coffee-holding—they’re instruments of worship, physically expressing what’s happening in your heart.

Not comfortable with the full hands-in-the-air approach? Start small. Try opening your palms slightly upward while seated. The point isn’t performance; it’s participation.

The Dancing Debate

Listen, I get it. For many of us, the word “dancing” in church triggers images of TikTok crazes or, worse, that one enthusiastic worshiper who seems to need a 10-foot radius of personal space.

But here’s what Scripture says: David “danced before the Lord with all his might” (2 Samuel 6:14). His wife Michal despised him for his lack of “dignity.” Spoiler alert: the Bible sides with the dancer, not the critic. But don’t take my word for it, read it for yourself.

Psalm 149:3 puts it bluntly: “Let them praise his name with dancing.”

Now, I’m not suggesting you break out your best moves during the doxology (although that would certainly liven things up). But movement—even subtle swaying or rhythmic engagement—acknowledges that God created not just our minds but also our bodies as instruments of praise. It might even help you stop clapping on beats 1 and 3.

The real problem in many of our churches isn’t excessive expression—it’s how we’ve reduced worship to merely intellectual or emotional experiences while leaving our bodies checked in at the coat rack.

The Face Situation

Our faces communicate volumes in worship. The Psalms repeatedly mention “seeking God’s face” and the light of His countenance. Our facial expressions aren’t just accessories—they’re central to honest communication.

Research has shown something fascinating: facial expressions don’t just express emotions—they can actually help create them. When you physically smile, your brain actually starts producing the neurochemicals associated with happiness.

That’s not manipulation; it’s design. God, who created both our bodies and emotions, understood this connection all along.

The point isn’t manufacturing a perpetual worship grin; it’s allowing your face to honestly participate in what’s happening in your heart. And sometimes, your face might need to lead your heart where it’s reluctant to go.

The Walking Way

Here’s a historical bombshell: perhaps the most revolutionary—and dangerous—invention ever introduced to worship was the humble chair. Pews, which only became standard in Western churches around the 13th century, relegated worshippers to a passive position. No longer were Christians actively moving from station to station throughout the elements of worship. Instead, they became relatively stationary, unwitting bystanders throughout the service.

In our efficiency-obsessed culture, we’ve largely eliminated sacred movement from our worship. Everything needs to be convenient, stationary, and efficient.

But the Psalms of Ascent (Psalms 120-134) were literally songs for walking, sung by pilgrims as they climbed toward Jerusalem. Their theology wasn’t separate from their journey; it was embodied in it.

When we physically move toward something in worship—an altar, a communion table, a baptismal—we’re allowing our bodies to enact what’s happening spiritually. We’re literally moving toward God, not just thinking about moving toward Him.

Sometimes, the most honest worship is simply the act of walking into church when you don’t feel like it—your body leading your heart toward faithfulness when your emotions would rather stay home.

The Bowing Mystery

Bowing has largely disappeared from Western worship, but Scripture is filled with it. In Revelation, the twenty-four elders fall down and worship. Throughout the Psalms, people bow down before God.

There’s something profound about physically lowering yourself before God—it’s a whole-body declaration of His greatness and your smallness.

And let’s talk about the truly radical position—laying prostrate on the floor. In Western corporate worship, this might result in someone calling 911, thinking you’ve collapsed. But throughout Scripture, from Moses to David to the elders in Revelation, prostration was a normal physical response to God’s holiness.

While it might be too radical for Sunday morning at your church, consider exploring this posture in your personal devotional and prayer time. You might be surprised at how your body communicates with your mind and spirit. Through this physical position, you’re literally embodying humility before God—your whole self acknowledging His lordship in a way that mere words sometimes can’t express.

In a culture obsessed with self-promotion and standing out, bowing is a radical act of putting yourself in proper perspective to God.

So, What Does This Mean For You?

Here’s the bottom line: Your body isn’t just along for the ride in worship. It’s an essential participant.

When we reduce worship to merely mental assent or emotional experience without physical participation, we’re essentially saying that God is only interested in part of who we are. But the Incarnation declares otherwise—God values our physical existence so much that He took on flesh Himself. Philippians 2:6-8 reminds us that Christ, “being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God: But made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men.” The God of the universe considered embodiment so important that He willingly took on a physical body.

Here are three practical steps you can take this Sunday:

1. Try one new physical expression of worship – If you’re always seated, try standing more intentionally. If your hands are always at your sides, try opening your palms slightly.
2. Notice when your body and words disconnect – Are you singing about joy while your face communicates boredom? Are you singing about surrender while your posture speaks of resistance?
3. Use your body to lead your heart – Sometimes, the most spiritual thing you can do is simply show up physically when you don’t feel like it emotionally.
   

Embodied worship isn’t about performance or conformity to someone else’s expressive style. It’s about bringing your whole self—mind, heart, soul, and yes, that awkward body—into the presence of God. It’s about presenting your bodies as “living sacrifices” (Romans 12:1).

And maybe that is the most beautiful thing we can offer on a Sunday morning.