A number of people at Good Shepherd for whom I have the greatest respect share a common characteristic: they have an exalted view of Christ.
In academic terms, they have a high “Christology” — doctrine of Christ.
For example, one of my Good Shepherd friends will respond with a loud “Amen” simply upon hearing the words of Colossians 1:15-17 read out loud:
15 The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. 16 For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. 17 He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.
Or another will weep as he describes what Philippians 2:9-11 means to him:
Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,
10 that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
11 and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.
And then, of course, there’s the inevitable and beloved 11:30 “Whooooo!” at the climactic verse of “In Christ Alone”:
There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave He rose again
And as He stands in victory
Sin’s curse has lost its grip on me
For I am His and He is mine
Bought with the precious blood of Christ.
And as I’ve thought about these various responses to deep teaching and rich singing about Christ, I realized what was going on.
Theology has become doxology.
Doctrine has become praise.
Teaching has become singing. And weeping. And shouting.
And I believe that’s why the Holy Spirit inspired Paul in the first place: so that what we learn determines who we adore.