When Praise Stops Being a Show
- Merly Abondano
- Dec 12, 2025
- 8 min read
When Praise Stops Being a Show
Dreaming Oase: A Small Space for a Great God
By Merly Abondano

There are Sundays when we leave church more exhausted than built up. Lights, smoke, volume, song changes, instructions, transitions… and in the middle of all that, the heart trying to find a place where it can simply breathe before God.
That has happened to me many times.
I have been in gatherings where the worship team gives everything with good intentions, but the format pushes in another direction: a high stage, spotlights aimed at the musicians, the band sounding flawless… and an assembly that, without meaning to, becomes an audience that watches, compares, films, evaluates.
In those moments, something inside me shrinks.
Not because the music is “wrong,” but because I feel the center has shifted: from the face of Christ to performance, from community to production, from the heart to technique.
And it’s not only “concert-style” services that can be a problem; even a very correct but overly rigid service can leave little room for the church to respond with freedom and honesty before God.
Out of that discomfort—and also out of a deep hunger for something simpler and more honest—this dream was born in me, which I have called Oase: a model of small, intimate, participatory communal worship, meant to encourage a dynamic that is more communal than authoritarian, more relational than hierarchical. pasted
It is not a brand, nor a franchise, nor “the correct way to do church.” It is simply an attempt to return to what is essential.
Today I want to tell you what it’s about.
Oase was born five years ago in a church in Aachen; in Frankfurt no one knows it yet, because for health reasons I couldn’t continue it. But now that I have strength again, I want to share it once more.
A Circle Instead of a Stage
When I imagine Oase, I don’t see a Bühne—a distant stage.I see about 20–30 people in a circle or semicircle, all at the same level: musicians and congregation together, with no visual separation, as a simple sign of something very deep:
“We are all priests; we are all invited to the same God.” pasted
In that space:
there is no “up” and “down,”
there are no “protagonists” and “audience,”
there are people with different gifts serving one another.
Christ is understood as the true center of the gathering—not the worship team.If anyone “shines,” let it be Him.
The music is still there, of course. There are guitars, piano, voices, and also percussion: sometimes a cajón, sometimes a full drum kit, depending on what makes sense for the moment. It’s not about everything always being “soft,” but about playing with listening and sensitivity, able to raise or lower intensity together. The atmosphere is not a concert, but a kind of spiritual living room, where we sing together, pray together, cry together. pasted
In that small circle, there is room for things that, in a large format, almost always get squeezed out or become impossible:
free singing: new spontaneous chants—someone begins a simple phrase and others follow;
short prayers from the chair, without a microphone;
brief Bible readings;
silences where no one has to “fill” the air;
simple confessions or short testimonies;
freedom for anyone who needs to dance, draw, write, kneel, or even lie on the floor for a while.
This is not about creating a “spiritual circus,” but a space where the body can also express what the heart is living.
And something key for me:Music is not a show or a product, but a fragile, human channel for responding to God.
Worship as a Whole Life
Why do I feel we need something like this?
Because when I read the Bible, I discover that worship is not exhausted by music. Music is beautiful, powerful, biblical—yes—but it is only one expression of something much broader.
Paul writes in Romans 12:1 that we should present our bodies as a living sacrifice, and he calls that our “reasonable worship.” There are no guitars or microphones there—there is a whole life.
In 1 Corinthians 10:31 he says:“Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.”
And in Colossians 3:17 he insists:“Whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus…”
When I let those words pierce me, I have to admit something:
There is no “Christian music” as a magical genre separated from the rest.What exists is a holy people who—when they sing, work, love, cook, study, or rest—can do it all for the glory of God.
So what is a night of worship?
For me, Oase wants to be:
a concentrated moment of something that should be permanent: life as worship;
a spiritual laboratory, where we train a posture of the heart that we then want to carry into Monday—into work, the kitchen, the metro, the quiet room.
Music, Instruments, and the “New Song”
Sometimes we get tangled up wondering whether God prefers one style or another—volume, drums, organ, hymnody, modern worship. But the Bible does not canonize a genre.
What we do see is:
From Jubal, called “the father of all those who play the lyre and pipe” (Gen 4:21), music accompanies human history.
God commands trumpets in Numbers 10 to gather and celebrate.
In the time of David and the temple there is an impressive display of music and dance before God (2 Sam 6; 1 Chr 15–16; 23; 25; 2 Chr 5; 29).
The book of Psalms culminates in Psalm 150: “Let everything that has breath praise the LORD,” with a list of instruments that sounds like a full band.
In the New Testament, a “Levitical orchestra” no longer appears, but singing is still there:
Jesus and His disciples sing a hymn after the Supper (Matt 26:30).
Churches are called to sing “psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs” (Eph 5:19; Col 3:16).
Hebrews speaks of the “sacrifice of praise, the fruit of lips.”
In Revelation, the elders hold harps and sing new songs before the Lamb.
What do I take from all of that?
Music and instruments are a creational gift and a legitimate means of praise.
But neither the OT nor the NT fixes a specific musical style or technical worship format.
So in Oase:
It is entirely legitimate to use contemporary styles…
…but without falling into the logic of the show.
I feel the Lord inviting me to simplify:
less volume,
more bare voice,
more silence,
more participation from many, not only from the main microphone.
And here comes something I deeply love: the new song.The Psalms speak again and again about singing to the Lord a new song (Pss 33, 40, 96, 98, 144, 149). In the NT, “spiritual songs” are mentioned without specifying whether they were rigidly structured.
For me, free singing is a contemporary form of that new song:
someone starts singing a simple phrase, perhaps a verse,
the community picks it up, repeats it, adapts it,
others add harmonies,
some pray out loud in between,
and little by little a sound-dialogue with God is woven.
It is not improvisation for its own sake; it is responding to what the Spirit is doing, in the light of the Word and in mutual love.
A Body Where Everyone Participates
Another thing that marked me while dreaming Oase was rereading the New Testament with this question:
“How did Paul imagine a church gathering?”
In 1 Corinthians 12–14, Paul speaks of the church as a body in which each member has something to contribute. Then he drops a line that always challenges me (1 Cor 14:26):
“When you come together, each one has a hymn, a lesson, a revelation, a tongue, or an interpretation…”
He does not say: “When you come together, the worship leader has everything.” He speaks of a multi-voiced community, where many contribute.
Peter also describes believers as a holy priesthood (1 Pet 2:5, 9). There is no special caste of “spiritual professionals”; we are all invited into the Most Holy Place because of Christ.
That’s why the circular, intimate model of Oase is not just a nice aesthetic idea. It seeks to express three convictions:
We are all priests: there is no “stage elite” and a spectator mass.
The body has many active members: a phrase, a prayer, a simple melody—everyone can contribute something.
Physical closeness facilitates communion: we see one another’s faces, we notice tears, we hide less.
Is there a risk of chaos? Of course.That’s why Paul also insists on order, love, and edification:
love is the measure of everything (1 Cor 13),
everything must build up (1 Cor 14:12, 26),
God is not a God of confusion (1 Cor 14:33, 40).
In Oase, freedom does not mean “everyone does whatever they want,” but rather:“We want to make room for the Spirit, caring for the weakest and listening together for what builds up and what does not.”
And What Does David’s Tabernacle Have to Do With This?
Maybe you’ve heard people talk about “David’s tabernacle” as a model of worship. I find inspiring the image of:
a simple tent,
the ark of God’s presence in the middle,
musicians and singers ministering continually,
a people with free and joyful access.
But I also know that:
Christ is now the true temple,
and the church is the spiritual building (Eph 2:21–22).
So I do not want to copy literally an architectural or ritual model from the Old Testament. What I take from David is the heart: passion for God’s presence, joy, free access.
Oase wants to embody something of that spirit, but centered on Christ and on the reality of the New Covenant.
What Does an Oase Night Look Like in Practice?
Here is one possible flow.It’s not a rigid liturgy—just an example: pasted
A simple beginningWe sit in a circle. Someone prays briefly. We start with 1–2 well-known songs, in a softer tone, leaving space for everyone to enter.
First moment of a new song (free singing)Instead of jumping from song to song without breathing, we lower the instruments a bit, repeat a simple phrase, and let the group improvise over it: some with words, others with syllables, others in silence.
A brief Bible readingSomeone reads a psalm, or a passage about the cross, grace, or the Father’s love. Not preaching a sermon—perhaps just one introductory sentence.
A mixed responseAfter the reading, we open space for:
short prayers out loud,
brief expressions of gratitude,
maybe a short testimony.
Space for healing and communionWe ask: “Does anyone need prayer?”If someone is willing, 2–3 people come close, lay hands respectfully, and pray. No spectacle—just mutual care.
A second moment of free singingAfter prayer, we return to singing freely, as a heart-response to what God has just done.
ClosingWe end with a sending song and a clear blessing:“As you leave, true worship continues—in your work, your family, your room, your decisions…”
Throughout this flow, there are usually 1–2 mature people who “watch over” the gathering—not to control everything, but to stay attentive, lovingly slow things down if something overflows, and accompany anyone who is breaking inside and needs follow-up.
Oase Is Not an Elite Group—It’s Training
Something very important to me:
Oase does not want to become “the special spiritual little group” in the church. It is not a club for “those who feel more,” nor a refuge for criticizing other forms of worship.
My desire is for it to be a complement—an intimate space where:
love for the Word is ignited,
communion is strengthened,
the heart is healed,
hidden gifts awaken,
and above all, a posture of simple, honest worship is trained—one that then spills into everyday life.
If You’re Also Tired of the Show…
Maybe you, too, have left worship gatherings with your heart a little empty.Maybe everything was technically perfect, and yet your soul was still hungry.
I don’t have a perfect model to offer you.I can only share this small dream:
A circle of ordinary people,a great God at the center,humble music,a free Spirit to touch, comfort, confront, and heal.
My prayer is that the Lord would raise up many “oases” like this in different forms and cultures. They may not be called Oase. They may not use a circle. They may look nothing like what I imagine. That’s fine.
What matters is this:
That we return to believing that true worshipis not bought with a production,is not measured in decibels,is not exhausted in one night,but is an entire life surrendered to a God who loved us first.
And from there—yes: let us sing.With guitars or without them, with hymns or new songs, with laughter or with tears.
But let us sing like those who know that the most precious thing in the gatheringis not the sound coming off the stage,but the heart that surrenders—gentle, yet determined—at the feet of Jesus.




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