Worship in the Street

 Jesus heard that the Pharisees had expelled [the man born blind whom He'd healed] and when he had found him, he said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?”

“And who is he, sir?” the man replied. “Tell me, so that I can believe in him.”

“You have seen him,” replied Jesus. “It is the one who is talking to you now.”

​“Lord, I do believe,” he said, and worshipped him. - John 9

This week, I've been so struck by the wording of, the immediacy of, that last verse, v. 38. Here's the Greek: "And he said, 'I believe, Lord,' and he worshipped Him." Presumably, he did not say "I believe, Lord," while a church pianist played quiet powerchords and the rest of the worship-band silently took the stage to slip on their guitar straps and join in for their next set. No. More likely, he and Jesus are standing in the midst of a busy, bustling, dusty street in Jerusalem with life happening all around them. "And he worshipped Him."

Imagine if you'd been walking by and saw a man bowing before another man, with eyes filled with joy, reverence, laughter and all the power of Belief. You're just going about your normal life, but that man, the one down in the dust, the one with the wild look in his eyes, he has something going on that you have no idea about. His worship confronts your reality more intently than any words he might say to you. Who is the One who could call such things up in a person?

My friends, is that our worship? Does it absolutely interfere with the normalcy of our lives? Is it silently confrontive, just because it never leaves our faces?

Oh, may it be so!