What If We Really Meant the Words We Sing?

This past Sunday I visited a large, modern church. You know the kind—polished production, lights, cameras, a full worship band with high energy songs that get the congregation clapping and singing along.

At first, it was electric: voices raised, hands clapping, hearts lifted in rhythm. But then, on cue, the lights dimmed. The band softened their sound. The crowd grew quiet and solemn. Suddenly, the words we were singing shifted: “How wonderful You are… how beautiful You are… how much I love You.”

These words were directed toward God, of course. But in that moment, I had a thought: What if every person in this room turned and sang those same words to their neighbor?

What if we truly lived as though God does not dwell in some distant heaven, but within each and every one of us? How different would our world look if we recognized the divinity in one another—the God-in-disguise standing beside us?

So many of us remain chained in Plato’s cave, mistaking shadows for reality, worshiping a God we believe is “out there” while ignoring the spark of God shining right here—in ourselves and in each other.

This is where the ancient word Namaste comes alive. It essentially means, “The light in me sees the light in you.” It is one soul recognizing the divine spark in another. It is worship, not through performance, but through presence.

Here’s my challenge: For one hour this week, look at every person you encounter—the cashier, the driver who cuts you off, your family, the stranger at the grocery store—and imagine they are God in disguise. Speak, look, and act as though you were face-to-face with the divine Source itself.

What would change in you? What would change in us?

Because maybe worship isn’t meant to stop when the lights come back up. Maybe worship begins the moment we see the sacred spark in one another.

Namaste.