I have been pondering the word, “worship.” From the Greek, proskuneos, its definition has and can be taken several ways. But being more straight forward, I meditated on the literal definition, “to kiss toward.” My results were provocative at bare minimum.

I listen to lots of different kinds of music, much of it Christian-oriented, so you hear the word worship. A lot. Almost flippantly so. We almost make it sound kind of — arduous…like worship is a chore, a duty-bound obligation we give to God. Which does not sound nearly as fun as kissing. So I decided to do a test.

This last week as I heard the word worship, in song, in scripture, in books, I substituted the phrase to kiss toward something. Or rather, some One. It really challenged my intimacy with God.

I was stirred to ask: Am I conscious that there is someone receiving my kiss? Am I aware that to kiss someone well requires some attraction, some adoration? Am I being whole-hearted in this moment, this moment alone, as I throw my kisses around in word, deed, and song?

So where are you throwing your kisses?

I looked at the posters hung on the bathroom wall of the music store. A guy holding a violin. A woman cradling a flute. A man grasping a trumpet. And, my personal favorite, a beaming man holding a tuba proudly, as if it were a bouncing baby boy.

What on earth had these seemingly non-descript, non-modelish, non-Brad Pitt-ish people done to have their somber, stoic, smirking or smiling faces, and their prized instruments, mounted on posters?

Then it hit me. Each of these people were masters of their instruments. They had taken the mundane middle and high school instrument, and with hours of devotion and practice they had turned it into an instrument extraordinaire. Somewhere these average Janes and Joes must have heard someone playing their instrument so well, so above average, so all together “other,” that they aspired to be like masters they had admired.

Passion does that. It takes two seemingly unimportant, obscure, random elements and creates something so beautiful that it creates a following, complete with posters.

Passion produces dedication which often produces such excellence that people want to take notice, want to hail, want to yell: this is worthy of my attention.

What can produce such an outcome? As a Jesus follower, it interests me to hear people call for more Bible verses and more service as the pathway to the Christian experience. In essence they are saying, more practice. But as in anything first comes inspiration then aspiration.

It is the passion of Jesus that makes me want to be like him. Seeing Christ in action inspires me to be like him. Seeing lives transformed, wholeness in place of brokenness, peace in the midst of storms, inspires people like you and me to be like the Master we admire. In fact Jesus promised us this very thing. “No man is above his master, but in due time he can learn to be like him.” Seeing the God life lived out inspires us to live a God life.

Jesus lived (and lives) with such passion for the goal, passion for the broken, passion for what we have been promised that he inspires us to be like him. And what is that promise? “That you will do even greater works than these,” Jesus said. Passion. Wonder if we have posters on the bathroom walls of heaven?