I was glad when they said to me

Anticipation. What comes to mind when you hear the word? Anticipation is the feeling that something is coming. Something is approaching. Something is about to happen. We don’t know exactly what it will look like, but we sense that what lies ahead matters. Maybe an audience sitting in a theater before the curtain rises or a gardener planting bulbs in the autumn anticipating what they will look like in the spring.

Expectation. What comes to mind when you hear the word? It is perhaps believing that something is going to happen—and living as though it will. Expectation is more than wishing. It is more than hoping. It is the conviction, sometimes strong and sometimes fragile, that something lies ahead of us. A child standing at the window, watching for grandparents who promised to visit, or a pregnant mother preparing a nursery, making room for a child she has never seen.

Anticipation and expectation are closely related. Maybe more like dance partners who know each other so well they glide easily together on the dance floor of human excitement about what is yet to come.

In Psalm 122, we read, “I was glad when they said to me, Let us go to the house of the Lord!” The psalmist responds with gladness at the prospect of going to worship. The anticipation of worship produced joy before worship began. For the psalmist, the invitation to worship is good news. As the psalmist made the journey to Jerusalem, they expected great things. Entering God’s presence was an opportunity to offer praise, join others in community, and experience the Lord’s joy. Anticipation and expectations were a part of the preparation for worship.

As we reflect on our own worship preparation, we can ask ourselves, as Christians: Do we anticipate or expect anything from our worship of God? As we enter our sanctuaries for a community gathering or worship, do we still expect anything? Do we believe that God will speak or act, or that there will be a word from the Lord for us?

Or have we become so accustomed to the routine of worship that we no longer expect surprise? We know when the service begins, which hymns we will sing, where we will sit, and approximately when we will go home. We know the familiar faces and the familiar rhythms. That familiarity brings comfort, but it also carries a danger. We can become so familiar with worship that we lose our sense of wonder. We can go through all the motions of worship without ever expecting an encounter with the living God.

Yet the Spirit of the living God continues to invite us to step into the wonder and mystery of God’s presence. When we come to worship with hearts filled with anticipation and spirits alive with expectation, we open ourselves to the possibility that God might speak, move, and work among us in ways we never imagined. A familiar hymn may suddenly speak to a place of deep hurt. A Scripture we have heard a hundred times may come alive with new meaning. A prayer may awaken hope we thought we had lost. An ordinary encounter with someone sitting beside us may become an unexpected moment of grace. The God who spoke creation into existence is still speaking, still moving, and still making all things new.

So perhaps the greatest preparation we can make for worship is not choosing what we will wear, deciding where we will sit, or making sure we arrive on time. Perhaps it is preparing our hearts to encounter the living God. What if we came through the doors of the sanctuary next Sunday genuinely believing that something could happen? That a burden might be lifted, a broken heart might find healing, a weary soul might discover new strength, or a life might be changed? What if we came not simply to hear another sermon or sing another hymn, but to listen for a word from the Lord?

So come expecting! Come anticipating! Come with open hearts, listening ears, and willing spirits. Come believing that God is not finished with us yet. Don’t simply come to worship because it is Sunday. Come because the living God is among us, because grace is still at work, because the Spirit is still moving, and because the One who makes all things new may be preparing to do something new in you.

And wouldn’t it be wonderful if, when someone said to us, “Let us go to the house of the Lord,” something stirred within our hearts, and we could respond with the same joyful anticipation as the psalmist: “I was glad!”