Chris Tomlin & Darren Whitehead Talk About The Words That Will Change How You WorshipНамуна
Day 2 – Holy Roar
The Fools of Praise
HALAL
Hâlal, haw-lal´: To boast. To rave. To shine. To
celebrate. To be clamorously foolish.
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Let them praise (hâlal) his name with dancing
and make music to him with timbrel and harp.
—PSALM 149:3
From Darren Whitehead:
A couple of years ago my wife and I were invited to a Jewish wedding. I’d never been to one before and had no idea what I was getting into. There were differences in the ceremony—that much is true—but the culmination of the wedding was just like any other. There were vows, a kiss, and a pronouncement. There was a new union—husband and wife.
After the ceremony, we made our way to the reception where the real fun and games began. A huge banquet awaited us—a spread of food and drinks as impressive as any I’d ever seen at a wedding. There was grand music and dancing, and everyone shouted and laughed in celebration. And though I was the Gentile of Gentiles in the room (how else would you describe a Christian preacher at a Jewish wedding?), I quickly found that participation in this party was not optional.
I was watching the rowdy festivities when, without warning, two yarmulke-wearing men in their mid-sixties sandwiched me between them. Seconds later, I was swept into a dance with these two strangers, and after a few moments, as if on cue, both men threw their heads back and laughed with such energy that it seemed to come from their very souls. These guys knew how to have fun, but even more importantly, they knew how to draw others into their party. They knew that the cosmic union of souls, the coming together of two people in holy matrimony, was a thing worthy of foolish, near-nonsensical celebration. The celebration was for everyone, Jew and Gentile alike.
The wedding was an amazing experience, and those men personified a word I’d read in the Hebrew text of the Old Testament. It was a word of praise, a word used again and again throughout the book of Psalms—hâlal.
Hâlal is the primary Hebrew word for praise. It’s the word from which we derive the biblical word hallelujah. It’s an exuberant expression of celebration, a word that connotes boasting, raving, or celebrating. It carries with it the notion of acting in a way that is “clamorously foolish.” True hâlal contemplates laying aside your inhibitions and killing your self-consciousness. It’s an exuberant expression of celebration, a word that connotes boasting,raving, or celebrating.
In the Old Testament, the word hilul (which comes from the same root word) is used in two places outside the psalms. In both the book of Judges and the book of Leviticus, it is used to describe the way the people might celebrate a harvest festival. There, they’d dance on the grapes, expressing the harvest’s juices for use in wine making. Imagine their enthusiasm as they danced and danced, as the hems of their robes were dyed purple. This dance carries with it the idea of hâlal.
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From Chris Tomlin
BEHIND THE MUSIC: God’s Great Dance Floor
There are songs that seem to come from nowhere, that take me by surprise, and “God’s Great Dance Floor” was one of those songs.
In early 2012, Martin Smith and I met for a writing session. He’d written an extended ballad entitled “Back to the Start,” which explored prodigal themes of return and rescue. He played me a demo of the song, haunting as it was.
Back to the start where you found me,
I give you my heart again.
Take everything; I’m all I can bring,
I’m coming home again.
It was a beautiful song—melodic, almost transfixing. And just when I thought the song might end, it began to build, and build, and build into a closing refrain of celebration: “I feel alive on God’s great dance floor.”
“What was that?” I asked, taken by the ending of the song. “It’s the prodigal return,” he said. “When we come back to the father, he throws a party. It’s not a time of lament, but a time for celebration, to dance like a child.”
I said I loved it, and I asked whether we could rip the ending and form it into its own song. Martin laughed, and in his thick English accent, said, “Mate, there are no rules. We can do what we want.”
Months after we ripped the ending into its own song, I found myself at Passion 2013 in Atlanta, Georgia. I had an idea: We’d find a mariachi trumpeter to play with us when we led the song for the first time at the conference. And so, before the event, I found a trumpeter at a local Mexican restaurant while he was playing with his band. I knew he’d be perfect.
At the conference, we prepared to take the stage, and the mariachi trumpeter stood by in full regalia. He held his trumpet by his side, relaxed, not quite aware of the magnitude of the moment. My bandmates looked at him, looked at me, then looked at him again. “It’s not too late to call it off,” one said.
Worship—so often it’s more about the seeing than the singing. Those sorts of celebrations might be a little rowdy, a little raucous, a little undignified, even. But isn’t this the essence of hâlal?
I shook my head. “Trust me. Something will shake loose when he takes the stage. That crowd will see the truth—that this is a party.”
And shake loose it did.
We cycled through the verse and chorus of “God’s Great Dance Floor,” and just before the instrumental break, the trumpeter walked onto the stage. The crowd kept clapping, kept moving, but you could see it; they were transfixed by this man who seemed so out of place in the moment. He raised his trumpet, and when he played the first note, the stadium erupted. It was a dance party, a party of praise. It was a party fit for the return of the prodigals, the return of all those sons and daughters.
The band and I have talked about that moment over these last few years. That song, the mariachi player, all of it served to let the worshippers see the sort of celebration our Father throws in our prodigal return. (Worship—so often it’s more about the seeing than the singing.) Those sorts of celebrations might be a little rowdy, a little raucous, a little undignified, even. But isn’t this the essence of hâlal?
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Reflection and Discussion Points
The most valuable thing the psalms do for me is to express the same delight in God which made David dance.
—C.S. LEWIS
Personal and group reflection questions:
1. Based on these verses, what words would you use to describe praising God?
2. If you grew up attending church, think about or describe a typical church service. Was it an outwardly expressive, enthusiastic environment of praising God?
3. Read the quote by C.S. Lewis. Do any words or phrases stand out to you? How do these words impact the way you think about praising God?
4. Why do you think some people are hesitant to express their celebration in a church gathering?
5. When you praise God in a public setting, how conscious are you of others around you?
About this Plan
What does it mean to praise God? In the ancient world, something extraordinary happened when God's people gathered to worship Him. It was more than just singing; it was a declaration, a proclamation, a time to fully embody praise to God. Get a preview of the new book Holy Roar by Chris Tomlin and Darren Whitehead who share a fresh perspective of worship.
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