Introduction

If we could sit together around a kitchen table, you’d notice the warmth of the oven and the smell of fresh bread. Plates set, cups full, chairs pulled close. That’s the picture in my mind when I think of what God offers His people: a table where the hungry are welcomed, where the thirsty are refreshed, and where the Father smiles as we eat with joy. Our God is not stingy. He is lavish in love, faithful in kindness, and rich in mercy. He invites us to come hungry, because He alone can fill us. And when He fills us, worship becomes more than words—it becomes the smile of glad obedience, the music of a heart at rest, the feast of a soul satisfied.

We all know what it’s like to nibble at the world’s snack bar and still feel empty. We sample promises that never quite satisfy. We chase applause and wind up weary. But there is a table set by the Lord where the portions are peace and the flavor is faithfulness. There is a banquet called worship—where obedience is not grim duty but glad delight, where serving God is not a burden but a blessing, where songs become surrender and surrender becomes sweetness. And the warning of Scripture is clear: when we push away from God’s table, we end up in bondage at the wrong table, serving enemies we never intended to serve.

J. I. Packer once wrote, “Once you become aware that the main business that you are here for is to know God, most of life’s problems fall into place of their own accord.” (J. I. Packer, Knowing God) That kind of knowing—real, rejoicing, reverent—puts everything where it belongs. It puts God at the head of the table. It puts our hearts in His hands. It puts our work, our worries, and our worship under His care.

So let me ask with a pastor’s heart: Are you hungry today? Hungry for hope? For holiness? For a happiness that does not evaporate when the winds shift? Are you thirsty for living water that won’t run dry by Monday? The Father’s invitation stands. Come with your emptiness; He delights to fill. Come with your burdens; He delights to bear. Come with your questions; He delights to speak.

This morning’s Scripture is weighty, but it is also profoundly kind, because it reminds us where the fountain is and why our hearts grow dry. It shows us what happens when worship loses its wonder and obedience loses its gladness. And it calls us back—to the table, to the feast, to the God who satisfies.

Scripture—Deuteronomy 28:47–48: “Because you did not serve the LORD your God with joy and gladness of heart, for the abundance of everything, therefore you shall serve your enemies, whom the LORD will send against you, in hunger, in thirst, in nakedness, and in need of everything; and He will put a yoke of iron on your neck until He has destroyed you.”

These words are solemn. They are also a doorway. They open to a path of joyful service—the kind that grows from a full heart. They remind us that worship is a banquet, not a begrudging task. They beckon us to lift empty hands and find them filled, to bend willing knees and find them strengthened, to open weary hearts and find them singing again.

Before we take another step, let’s ask the Lord to meet us at His table.

Opening Prayer: Father, we come to You hungry and hopeful. We confess that we have often tasted the world’s offerings and stayed empty. We ask You now to satisfy us with Your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days. By Your Spirit, stir a holy hunger within us. Turn our duty into delight, our service into song, our obedience into overflow. Where our hearts have grown dull, awaken wonder. Where we have been anxious, grant peace. Where we have chased lesser things, draw us back to Your table of better things. Lord Jesus, Shepherd of our souls, lead us to green pastures and still waters. Break every yoke that binds us, and bind our hearts to You in glad devotion. Open our ears to Your Word, our eyes to Your beauty, and our hands to Your will. Make us a people who serve You with joy and gladness of heart because You have given us everything in Yourself. We ask this in Your mighty and merciful name. Amen.

Come Hungry to the God Who Satisfies

Hunger can feel like a problem. It can feel like something to hide. But in the life of faith, hunger becomes a gift. It tells the truth. It tells us we need more than we can carry in our own hands. It points us past our own plans. It pushes us toward God. When you feel that ache inside, you are hearing a call. Bring it to Him. Bring it without polish. Bring it now.

God does not turn away empty people. He never has. He made us with limits so that we would look up. He is not annoyed by need. He is moved by it. He loves to meet His children in that place where our lack bumps into His endless care. He has more than enough to fill the hollow places we try to stuff with small things. He has more than enough to quiet the noise that makes it hard to pray. He gives Himself. That is the gift that finally settles us.

This is why worship matters. Worship is not a trick to get blessings. Worship is what happens when God’s goodness lands on a heart and opens it wide. His kindness wakes up song. His mercy loosens tight fists. His presence puts strength in tired legs. When we taste grace, service stops feeling like a grind. It becomes the natural next step. Joy rises. Gratitude grows. Obedience begins to look like love.

Our passage speaks into that very place. It shows what happens when hearts forget joy in the presence of God. It shows what spills out when thanks dries up. It also shows the way back. It does not leave us guessing about what God wants. He wants hearts that serve with a smile because they have seen His hand. He wants praise that grows out of real awareness of His gifts. He wants gladness that fits a people who have been cared for at every turn.

“Because you did not serve the LORD your God with joy and gladness of heart, for the abundance of everything.” Those words carry a shock. The issue is not a lack of things. The issue is a lack of joy in the Giver. Israel stood in a land with harvests, homes, and help on every side. God had carried them, fed them, and kept them. Yet their hearts cooled. Service continued, but the music stopped. The verse says God noticed the tone, not just the task. He wanted more than activity. He wanted a glad heart that knew where the abundance came from. This is not about pretending to be happy. It is about seeing grace and letting it land. Gratitude is a way of seeing. It remembers rescue. It counts daily mercies. It looks at bread and thinks of a Father. It looks at water and thinks of a Rock that never runs dry. When that sight is clear, joy rises, and service follows with warmth. When that sight is dull, we start to move through motions without wonder. The text calls that out. It says abundance should have stirred praise. It should have stirred willing hands. It should have stirred a deep “thank You” that colors all of life. When we notice how God has cared for us, even in small ways, we begin to offer Him a kind of service that fits His goodness. The verse presses this into us. God values joyful service, and He names joyless service as a serious loss.

“Therefore you shall serve your enemies, whom the LORD will send against you.” The word “therefore” ties empty-hearted worship to hard outcomes. When joy in God fades, the heart does not float in a safe place. It reaches for other rulers. It gives time, love, and energy to things that cannot bless. The text names them enemies. They are the powers that wound, drain, and take. In Israel’s case, this came through invading nations and real bondage. The Lord Himself allowed it. This was covenant discipline. It was not random. It was measured and meaningful. It exposed the lie that we can keep God at a distance and stay free. Service is built into us. We are made to give ourselves to someone. If we withhold our hearts from God, we end up handing them to harsh hands. That is what the line warns. Think of what claims you. Think of what sets your pace, calls the shots, and takes your peace. These are the kinds of enemies that send us to bed worried and wake us up weary. They make promises but string us along. God, in love, lets their weight be felt so we see the difference. His rule is kind. Their rule is cruel. The verse urges us to bring our service back to the One who made us. It urges us to return, with joy, to the King who does not use His people. He lifts them.

“In hunger, in thirst, in nakedness, and in need of everything.” The list is stark. It names the basic needs of life. Food. Water. Clothing. Supply. The passage shows how sin starves a people. It shows how turning from God to empty masters empties the pantry of the soul, and in Israel’s case, even the pantry of the home. This is the shock that wakes us. When we trade the fountain for broken wells, we come up dry. When we try to clothe our shame with thin covers, we stay exposed. When we lean on our own strength, we end up in need on every side. This is not just about ancient famine. It is about the ache so many feel today. Plenty on the outside, and yet thin on the inside. So the Scripture teaches us how to come back. Come with real need. Say the truth. “Lord, I am hungry for You. I am thirsty for Your Word. I am bare without Your righteousness. I am short on what I cannot make.” He knows how to feed. He knows how to give the drink that reaches the heart. He wraps His people in grace like a warm coat. He provides what we cannot earn. This line of the text hurts, but it also teaches. It teaches us to bring lack to the Lord who loves to provide. It trains our appetites to reach for Him first.

“He will put a yoke of iron on your neck until He has destroyed you.” This is the heaviest line. A yoke is what binds an ox to its load. Iron means it will not break by human effort. In Israel’s story, this looked like chains, exile, and the crushing force of empires. It declares that life under false masters grows heavier with time. It does not loosen. It presses down. It bends the back and steals breath. God speaks this to shake His people awake. He wants them to feel where joyless service leads. He wants them to see that pride cannot carry iron. He also points, by warning, to the grace that He alone can give. Only the Lord can take off an iron yoke. Only He can snap what human strength cannot. He does this when we turn to Him in truth. He does this by mercy that does not match our failings. He does this fully in Christ, who bore the curse for His people and offers a yoke that fits. His way does not grind us down. His way brings rest to the heart even when work is hard. So this last word in the verse presses us to reach for His hands. We do not have to keep dragging iron. We can come under His care with gladness. We can ask Him to replace weight with praise. We can ask Him to tune our service to joy again.

Worship is the Banquet of Glad Obedience

Worship fills the room when service rises from a glad heart ... View this full PRO sermon free with PRO