A couple of years ago, a friend of mine sent me a shofar from Israel made from a three-foot-long curling ram’s horn. I used to shy away from that instrument because I associated it with ancient Israel. Now, when I hear its sound and after learning a bit about how to play it, I no longer think of it as something odd and part of the past.

The blowing of the shofar was used to make announcements, bring warnings to the enemy, and call the nation to war. The testimony and purpose of its sound carry into the present and speak to me.

In the last few months, I discovered the sound of the Duduk, another Middle Eastern instrument. Its sound has the same effect on me as the shofar. These sounds take my mind back in time. 

There are other sounds that affect me similarly. As I sit in my writing chair in the predawn hours, I can hear the faint sound of a train’s horn in the distance as it travels through our valley. I have the same sense while standing atop a ridgeline, and the sound of the wind passes across my ears.

Those distant sounds catch my attention, drawing my thoughts to God and what He is thinking and doing. I am reminded of the Scripture: “I remember the days of old; I meditate on all that you have done; I ponder the work of your hands” (Psalm 143:5).

This is the essence of worship. We worship God for who He is for us in the present, while recalling what He has done in the past, and pondering what He will do in the future. Our spirit, soul, and mind are called to attention, connecting us to a sense of mystery and longing. We are created to be set apart, consecrated to, and made one in heart with our Creator. These acts of worship put all the issues of life into the right perspective.