If there were a God, what would the right human attitude to God be? The unreflective and generally assumed answer is ‘worship’. But what exactly is worship? What attitude is being mandated by the claim that human beings owe the deity worship? Furthermore, both Judaism and Christianity represent the relationship God desires with human persons as intimate and joyful. But worship is often understood as a recognition of God’s transcendent greatness. Could recognition of one’s distance from God be compatible with joyful closeness to God? In this paper, I explore these questions by examining the understanding of worship given by Aquinas and Calvin. I argue that the answers to these questions not only illuminate the nature of worship but also make a difference to our understanding of the notion of the true self.

The Bible and religious tradition imply that 1. It is wrong to worship anything other than God, and 2. There is no good excuse for worshipping anything other than God. One question (1) raises is, wrong for whom? Jews and Christians, certainly. I suggest that there is no clear case that idolatry is a sin for Gentile pagans in the Hebrew Scriptures. Christian belief that (1) applies to pagans stems from New Testament texts and philosophy. I consider some broadly philosophical arguments that all idolatry is wrong, no matter by whom. I then argue that (2) rests inter alia on a robust doctrine of “general revelation,” and suggest some of what must go into that doctrine if it is to support (2).

In this chapter, I explore and defend the idea that the core experience of worship involves a fitting response to the excellence of the divine, and that this can be understood in roughly the same ways that we understand fitting responses to excellence in general. I also defend a particular account of the excellence involved here – I argue that in worship, as in many other cases of fitting response to excellence, we are tracking intrinsic value. Along the way, I respond to Mark Murphy’s arguments for the conclusion that no creature could have intrinsic value.

Various strands of religious thought distinguish veneration from worship. According to these traditions, believers ought to worship God alone. To worship anything else, they say, is idolatry. Yet many of these same believers also claim to venerate – but not worship – saints, angels, images, relics, tombs, and even each other. What’s the difference? Tim Bayne and Yujin Nagasawa (: 302) are correct that “it seems to be extremely difficult to distinguish veneration from worship.” Many have argued throughout history that veneration collapses into worship and that those who venerate saints or icons are guilty of idolatry. In this essay, we distinguish worship from veneration in two stages. First, we give a formal account of their difference. Drawing from St. John of Damascus (c. 675–749 AD), we argue that worship is a determinate of the determinable veneration. Second, we give more substantive accounts of both that explain both their differences and similarities. Drawing again from St. John, we argue that acts of veneration and worship signify subordination. Their difference, however, lies in the fact that worship alone requires absolute subordination.

In a well-known apocryphal story, Theresa of Avila falls off the donkey she was riding, straight into mud, and injures herself. In response, she seems to blame God for her fall. A playful if indignant back and forth ensues. But this is puzzling. Theresa should never think that God is blameworthy. Why? Apparently, one cannot blame what one worships. For to worship something is to show it a kind of reverence, respect, or adoration. To worship is, at least in part, to praise. You cannot praise and blame simultaneously. Indeed, Paul counsels against “back-talk” against God, suggesting we lack the standing to blame our creator (Romans 9:20). Drawing on Strawsonian theorizing about praise and blame, this chapter argues that, surprisingly, a person can both blame and worship God. Although blameful worship is possibly epistemically akratic, it may sometimes be acceptable given our nature as finite, emotional beings. In fact, blaming God might on occasion be the only way we have to stand with God’s goodness despite apparent evidence of evil in the world. This suggestion, I’ll argue, should change the way we think about the problem of evil. The problem has interpersonal and moral psychological dimensions that merit serious attention.

A philosophical account of worship will answer at least two questions: the constitutive question of what worship is, and the normative question of what normative standards govern worship. The questions are related because what normative standards govern worship depends on whether worship consists primarily of some attitude or some action. This chapter briefly surveys the theoretical terrain of answers to these questions, with special attention to identifying the minimal conditions under which worship is fitting or supported by reasons.

In this chapter, I argue for an account of worship as real union. To worship the Divine is to participate in the goodness of God, in an ontological way. But how can we really participate in God? The answer depends on the coherence of an important distinction between the essence and divine energies of God. We cannot participate in the essence of God, otherwise the distinction between creature and creator breaks down. Rather, we participate in the divine energies of God. Although there is a difference between the divine essence and the divine energies, the divine energies are not something distinct from God. God interacts with us and reveals himself to us through the divine energies. The divine energies are the activities of God that can penetrate our inner being and change us from potentially being good to actually being good. Thus, worship, in the proper and strict sense, divinizes us.

Worship is typically understood as an act of religious reverence and devotion to a deity, usually involving some ritual. I aim here to explore whether, and how far, we might make sense of the idea of worship even on robust atheistic assumptions, according to which there is good reason to believe that there is no deity, nor supernatural beings of any kind, so that the only live beings in the world are humans, animals, plants and the like. We shall call this Atheist Worship (AW). Beyond that, I wish to explore the possible value of such practice. If there is no God, then in some sense AW is normatively the only possible form of worship that is not based on error or pretence. But as we shall see, there is no reason why theists cannot also engage in many forms of “AW” (in the sense of engaging in practices expressing attitudes of reverence and devotion towards something held to be of great value and importance, without theistic assumptions), so the value of this project does not depend upon atheism.

We have little basis to doubt (a) that we have good reasons to worship God, (b) that God is worthy of worship, (c) that worship of God is reasonable, (d) that it is unreasonable not to worship God, and (e) that worshipping God is obligatory. But none of these normative states of affairs amounts to or entails our owing God worship. The central aim of this chapter is to show that we do not by nature owe God worship; our owing God worship could be no more than a contingent matter. That our owing God worship is contingent does not entail or even suggest that there is any imperfection or limitation in God, and there are good reasons to hold that it is an attractive view of the relationship between God and humans that our owing God worship is a matter of a special contingent relationship between God and us rather than something that holds by nature.

Salat or prayer in Islam is a holistic act, creating parity between physical and mental health. Prayer in Islam is a collective term for a cycle of movements and acts, including Rak’ah performed by the Ummah or global community of Muslims, at the same times each day, in exactly the same order, in the same language, which is Arabic. Rak’ah unites movement and prayer. If the individual is unwell, confined to bed, or physically impaired, then the expectation is for the individual to perform Rak’ah in a way that causes least harm. The physical movements flex and extend numerous muscles and joints throughout the body, creating a gentle and consistent form of exercise. The act of praying focuses the mind, creating a form of mindfulness because the individual concentrates on Allah to the exclusion of everything else. Regularly undertaking salat exerts spiritual, physical, and cognitive benefits for Muslims. Even though evidence-based research highlights positive benefits, public health interventions in the West frequently fail to use the evidence to enhance physical and mental well-being in Muslim populations.

Ezra–Nehemiah presents multiple theological themes in accord with the complex experiences of repatriation. This chapter is divided under several subheadings, such as trauma, power, identity, hope, prayer, and others, as accessible topical introductions to the theological contributions of Ezra–Nehemiah.

This chapter treats liturgical experience. It finds that there are few textual sources for the study of this experience and that instead practices, postures, gestures, and other elements of lived ritual experience must be considered. Liturgical experience is characterized by structures of repetition and predictability that enable participants to integrate their own experiences and to feel that they belong to something that has preceded them, thus providing a sense of stability and meaningful identity. Liturgy features cycles of confession and celebration that in their back-and-forth movements allow people to process their emotions and to participate in bodily practices that express their convictions and deepest concerns. Liturgical participants are thus shaped in their identity within communities of belonging that provide meaning to their daily experience, both regular and extraordinary.

This chapter traces the consequences of the Laudian ideal of the beauty of holiness for questions of bodily worship and ceremonial conformity. For the Laudians, the reverence and fear necessarily evoked by the divine presence in the church had to take an outward physical form. God had to be worshipped by the body as well as the soul, and indeed uniform, orderly bodily worship both practised by oneself and witnessed being practised by others was deemed to have specific edifying spiritual effects. The result was an elevated view of the significance of forms of worship, and certain key ceremonies previously regarded as merely ‘indifferent’ were conceded to have religious significance and spiritual potency.

A gift of a patron necessitated a response on the part of the recipient, which most often took the form of loyalty and other honors befitting the gift. Especially magnanimous benefactions were considered “divine” and compelled “divine” honors, including festivals, processions, priesthoods, crowns, and hymns. Chapter 5 presents a survey of the honors-for-benefits system inherent in systems of patronage and benefaction in the ancient Mediterranean world, with attention to the varieties of “divine” rewards requited for “divine” gifts, including especially divine hymns. This survey contextualizes the divine honors requitted to the Lamb, namely, allegiance to the point of death and hymns of praise, which befit his divine gifts as God’s royal vicegerent.

A gift of a patron necessitated a response on the part of the recipient, which most often took the form of loyalty and other honors befitting the gift. Especially magnanimous benefactions were considered “divine” and compelled “divine” honors, including festivals, processions, priesthoods, crowns, and hymns. Chapter 5 presents a survey of the honors-for-benefits system inherent in systems of patronage and benefaction in the ancient Mediterranean world, with attention to the varieties of “divine” rewards requited for “divine” gifts, including especially divine hymns. This survey contextualizes the divine honors requitted to the Lamb, namely, allegiance to the point of death and hymns of praise, which befit his divine gifts as God’s royal vicegerent.