Sometimes, worship reminds us that the church is far larger, more diverse, and more beautiful than the communities we know best. My recent experience at the World Methodist Council meeting, Aug. 13-17 in San Salvador, El Salvador, was one of those moments.

Throughout the gathering, I had the privilege of serving as director of liturgy and music, helping to shape worship alongside people from different countries, cultures, languages, and Methodist traditions. I also served as a panelist in a conversation on “The Joy of Worship.” Both experiences allowed me not only to lead but also to listen, receive, and learn.

Worship as a meeting place

One gift of global worship is that it reminds us that no single culture owns the language of praise. We sang music shaped by diverse histories and traditions. We prayed in different accents and languages. We encountered expressions of faith that were familiar and others that invited us beyond what was comfortable or expected.

Rev. Tercio Junker

That is one of the great gifts of the worldwide church. Sometimes we become so accustomed to our own patterns of worship that we begin to confuse what is familiar with what is universal. Yet the body of Christ is wider than any one style, tradition, language, or congregation.

Global worship asks us to listen. It asks us to receive others’ gifts without immediately measuring them against our preferences. It teaches us that the Holy Spirit has been working in communities whose experiences differ greatly from ours.

When we worship together despite those differences, something beautiful can happen. We begin to hear the gospel with new ears.

The joy of worship

The phrase “the joy of worship” stayed with me throughout the week. What makes worship joyful? Joy is not merely singing lively songs. It is not mere emotional enthusiasm. It is not pretending that everything is well when the world is wounded. Christian joy is deeper. Joy is the conviction that suffering does not have the final word.

We worship in a world marked by war, injustice, displacement, violence, grief, political division, and fear. We do not leave those realities outside the sanctuary. We bring them in. And still we sing. Still we pray. Still we proclaim resurrection. Still we gather around the table. Still we say, “Thanks be to God.”

That is not denial. It is faith. At times, joy becomes an act of resistance. To sing in the face of despair is to declare that despair is not sovereign. To pray amid uncertainty is to confess that fear does not rule us. To gather around one table is to challenge the divisions that claim some people belong more than others.

Worship gives hope a voice.

Sometimes the joy of worship is loud and exuberant. Sometimes it is quiet and contemplative. Sometimes it appears in tears. Sometimes it emerges when someone else sings the words we are not yet able to sing. That too is grace. The church carries one another in worship.

Justice, peace, and joy belong together

In Rom. 14:17, Paul presents justice, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit as belonging together. Joy without justice can become a shallow celebration. Peace without justice can become silence in the face of suffering. Justice without peace can lose sight of reconciliation.

Worship, therefore, should help form communities that seek right practice of reconciliation and refuse to surrender hope. That means worship is never only about what happens in one hour on Sunday morning. If we sing about justice, we must become more attentive to injustice. If we pray for peace, we must learn to become peacemakers. If we celebrate joy, we must become people who help others discover reasons for hope. The true measure of worship is not only what happens while we are gathered. It is also what happens after we are sent.

The gift of community

Another profound gift of the gathering was the privilege of working alongside gifted, talented, humble, and deeply committed local musicians. What touched me most was not only the quality of their gifts but also the spirit in which they offered them. They served with generosity, attentiveness, flexibility, and a genuine desire to support the worshiping community.

Making music together creates a particular kind of fellowship. Musicians must listen to one another. We must adjust and leave room. Sometimes we lead, and sometimes we follow. We learn that the beauty of the whole depends on each person contributing fully without overpowering the others.

Paul uses the image of the body of Christ to describe the church. We are many members, yet we belong to one another. We do not all have the same gifts or functions. Music makes that visible.

A single voice may begin a song, but the song grows richer when other voices join. Different rhythms can become one prayer. Different languages can proclaim one hope. Different people can create something together that no one could create alone. That is also a picture of the church.

A joy we carry into the world

Worship shapes our imagination so we can recognize the signs of God’s kingdom already appearing among us. Whenever dignity is restored, justice becomes visible. Whenever enemies begin to listen to one another, peace becomes visible. Whenever people who have every reason to despair find the courage to sing again, joy becomes visible. These are not small things. They are signs of the Holy Spirit.

May our worship deepen our hunger for justice. May our prayers form us into peacemakers. May our songs strengthen those who are weary. May our table remind us that grace is never ours to possess but always ours to share. And may the joy of the Holy Spirit become not merely something we experience in worship, but something we carry from worship into the world.

This is a condensed version of Rev. Junker’s post in Friendship UMC’s Substack.