(Reposted here in full because of its brevity; the original.)
In some circles, it is almost trite to say it: “Praise is the language spoken in Heaven.”
That’s because it typically refers to some scripted exercise in emotional manipulation. Yet it remains true that a genuine moment of worship will reestablish your moral priorities and lift your soul from ambient sorrows. I have worked in church music since my teen years. Not because I’m such a great musician — I’m simply competent — but I’m loud and I don’t mind taking the lead.
This is the one thing about virtual communion that I miss most. A recording is still just a recording; it’s not the same as a live experience of communion in worship. What we do here is not a complete spiritual life, but it does indicate the rest. There is a whole big slice of implied fellowship and joy that simply cannot be shared directly via this medium.
And there is also a whole big slice of experiential faith, where you simply live what you believe, things I could never see in the feedback you might offer. You can indicate it by telling it, but you can’t share it directly. It is something we all have to assume takes place, because it has no meaning otherwise.
We can pray for each other, but none of us can lay our hands on each other to share that flaming touch of the Spirit. God can certainly heal long distance, as the Centurion learned when He asked Jesus to heal his servant, but nothing can replace that personal presence of two or more rising just high enough in the Spirit to catch a glimpse of what can and will be.
Revelation is for application, not merely interpretation.