Growing up our family attended a small store-front Baptist church with a charismatic atmosphere. I had a love/hate relationship with the church. Hate because my sister and I were the only ones of our neighborhood friends attending Wednesday night Bible study. Hate because there wasn’t an organized youth program with age-appropriate study and worship. No. The building with its concrete floors, paneled walls, and makeshift pulpit only allowed enough chair space for a handful of adults and children.
I loved the testimony service though. Sister McRae led us in the songs of Zion, and Mother Ridgeway’s raspy voice testified of God’s redemptive power. The atmosphere lulled me to a place of peace, erasing discontentment and ushering in thanksgiving.
The psalmist calls for that same kind of thankful worship of God. His cry for a collective praise is nothing but a good-ole fashioned testimonial service that gave reasons the Israelites should be thankful. That call extends to you and me.