An afternoon at Fenway Park. Bottom of the ninth, winning run at the plate, Big Papi David Ortiz steps up. Pitch low and away. Ortiz swings, there’s a sweet smack on the bat. Your eyes follow it and you join the thunderous applause as the ball sails high over the wall. Ortiz makes his way around the bases, and as he crosses home plate, before running into the embrace of his teammates, he pauses, and does this: (look up and point to the sky).

Have you noticed? Ortiz does it every time. It always makes me wonder: what does that gesture mean to him? Is he thanking God for another game-saving home run? Is he acknowledging some departed coach or relative watching him from heaven? Is he trying to communicate something to us, fans and TV audience, about God as the source of our lives? Or is his gesture a simple act of praise, “Soli Deo Gloria,” “To God alone be the glory.” And what would that mean, anyway, “to God alone be the glory,” as the fans chant his name and he takes home another million-dollar paycheck?

I mean no disrespect to Ortiz, nor do I intend to belittle his gesture, whatever it means to him. Because the questions I raise are not just about him and his response to home runs, but about us, and the gestures we make to the heavens. The worship we offer to God every Sunday. The “thank God!” we utter when a loved one is safe from harm, or the “praise God!” when a seemingly impossible situation gets resolved. What do these gestures mean, and why do we do them? What does it mean to praise God?

The Psalms we read today, and almost all the Psalms, really, are full of the same exhortation: Praise God! But the instructions are less clear. Enter God’s gates with thanksgiving, and God’s courts with praise! All the kings of the earth shall praise God! Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth! But what exactly does that look like? How do you know if your praise is really soli deo gloria, for the glory of God alone? And is saying it the same thing as doing it? I mean, if I say, “Praise God!” is that the same thing as actually praising God, or is there more required?

I believe, for most of us, the lines of the Psalms we understand best are the ones about praising God with music, with singing and with instruments. Music is in itself glorious, and listening to the swell of the organ or resonance of the choir, joining our voices together in song lifts us heavenward. Beautiful music catapults our whole selves, body, mind and spirit into praise.

Which is why we’re so anxious about losing our Minister of Music Gregory Peterson. After all, his gift of music has taken us heavenward, and filled our lips and our hearts with praise. Will we be able to praise God so well without him? How many of us have approached him after a service to share our appreciation, to tell him that his leadership of the choir or performance on the organ have been our avenue to praise that day? Gratefully, we thank Gregory and praise him for his gifts. But how does Gregory respond to our shower of compliments? Have you taken note? I’ve seen him time and again respond with the words Johann Sebastian Bach inscribed at the foot of his every composition. With the cry of the Protestant Reformation, defending against idols and against any human being who would claim spiritual superiority. With the motto of Luther College, where Gregory will begin serving as teacher and chapel organist. Soli Deo Gloria, To God alone be the glory.

So music in worship is an entryway into understanding praise. Perhaps, then, if we reflect on music it might shed light on some of our other questions about praise, and bring us closer to living the vision, Soli Deo Gloria, for the glory of God alone.

I remembered something from my childhood in the United Methodist Church that connects music and praise—John Wesley’s Directions for Singing. Written in 1761, as the didactic prelude to a new collection of hymns, Wesley’s somewhat heavy-handed rules have appeared in the front of Methodist hymnals ever since, instructing the congregation how to sing in a way that properly offers praise to God. I returned to these instructions seeking insight on how to praise in other ways.

Rule #1: Learn these tunes before you learn any others; afterward learn as many as you please.

Well, this rule echoes the sermon I gave last time I was in the pulpit, on Memorial Day weekend, when I broke Wesley’s rule by invoking the name of Crosby, Stills & Nash to interpret the scriptures. But my thoughts were not that different from his: whether in Psalms or songs, scripture or prayer, we need to learn the language of praise—so that the words come naturally to our lips and the spirit comes naturally to our hearts. It takes practice to sing songs of praise.

Rule #2: Sing them exactly as they are printed here… and if you have learned to sing them otherwise, unlearn it as soon as you can.

Well, The New Century Hymnal is not Wesley’s version. I think we’ve already broken that one. But not even the Methodists sing from a 1761 version, so let’s just appreciate how our United Church of Christ faith honors the many languages and traditions that voice praise to God, and move on.

Rule #3 Sing all. … Let not a slight degree of weakness or weariness hinder you. If it is a cross to you, take it up, and you will find it a blessing.

Sing all—all the time, all together, no matter your mood. This is where we part ways with David Ortiz. See, Ortiz doesn’t point to the heavens when he strikes out. We do. Whether we hit a home run or strike out, whether we’re happy or sad, brokenhearted or elated, confused or clear, lost or found, we come together to worship every week. Even when it feels like a cross, because it’s hot outside and hotter in the sanctuary, you still came to sing praise and hopefully find a blessing. Praise isn’t something we do when we feel good or because we feel good—it’s something we do all the time, because just like the Psalmist said, God is good, all the time.

And it’s that confidence in God’s goodness, all the time, that leads us to rule number 4.

Rule #4 Sing lustily and with good courage. Beware of singing as if you were half dead, or half asleep; but lift up your voice with strength. Be no more afraid of your voice now … than when you sung the songs of Satan.

I think that one speaks for itself—praise God like you mean it. With at least as much enthusiasm as you show singing along with your car radio.

So, as we sing lustily, we must also follow rule number 5:

Rule #5 Sing modestly. Do not bawl... Strive to unite your voices together, so as to make one clear melodious sound.

Sing lustily so as to praise God, sing modestly so as not to seek praise for yourself. But beyond that he’s pointing to something else—God welcomes our individual praise, but our corporate praise, our unity, is especially pleasing to God’s heart. As in the prayer Jesus prayed, which we take as the motto of our United Church of Christ: That they may all be one. Our unity with one another is itself an act of praise, a recognition that our differences, while important, are not nearly as significant as our shared status as children of the one God, to whom we all can lift our praise.

Rule #6 Sing in time. Whatever time is sung be sure to keep with it. Do not run before nor stay behind it; … and take care not to sing too slow. This drawling way naturally steals on all who are lazy; and it is high time to drive it out from us …

Not too fast, and not too slow, Wesley says, both are signs of laziness. There’s the laziness of going too fast, as in the table grace “Good bread, good meat, good God, let’s eat!”, and there is the laziness of going too slow, mumbling our praise and muttering our prayers. Do not mistake length for quality.

And finally, in the spirit of not mistaking length for quality…

Rule #7 Above all sing spiritually. Have an eye to God in every word you sing. Aim at pleasing God more than yourself, or any other creature. In order to do this attend strictly to the sense of what you sing, and see that your heart is not carried away with the sound, but offered to God continually; so shall your singing be such as the Lord will approve here, and reward you when God cometh in the clouds of heaven.

These words reach beyond our habits of singing but our habits of living. Above all, live spiritually. Have an eye to God in everything—everything you do, everything you see, everything you say. That’s what it means to praise God—it’s not an act we perform, it’s not even an attitude, and you don’t have to be a skilled musician or eloquent speaker to do it. Praise is a way of seeing, so that we live our whole lives (repeat Ortiz’s gesture, look up and point to the sky) with an eye toward God. In this way, all that we are, work and play, words and deeds, solitude and relationships, every moment of our lives we live as instruments of God’s praise. It is our sole purpose on this earth, to live lives that bring glory to God. May it be so. Soli Deo Gloria. To God alone be the glory. Amen.