Nothing, I suppose, is more obvious today than the way worship has become an increasingly unfamiliar activity. The loss of worship marks a secular society. Its only horizons are those provided by the present immediate world. The idea of honoring some god who is not part of the immediate world seems a bit strange. The further idea of identifying the fulfillment of human existence with such worship seems preposterous and superstitious. Worship is certainly no preoccupation of a secular age. If the secular perspective wants glory, wants that which elicits worship, it insists that that glory be found in our immediate world and not in some transcendent fiction. Yet it is in these exact terms that the worship of God’s glory has always been valued. God’s glory, religious persons have contended, is infinitely deeper and richer than the glory of anything in the world. (Arthur McGill, “Death and Life: An American Theology,” 69)

This kind of worship is under the Sun kind of worship. It assumes that there is nothing beyond the natural observable order, and that we in fact live in a closed universe. But since we were designed to worship, given the void that “living under the Sun” creates, man has only one option left for satiating his “natural” predisposition for worship — he can only worship himself (Rom. 1). In this state man constructs a universe that suits him, that revolves around himself in soloptic orientation. The problem occurs, of course, when there are over 6 billion separate universes rotating in the same space; the only trajectory is collision. The fall-out of living in a ‘multi-universe’ world, that was designed for ‘uni-versal’ existence can be seen all around . . . chaos ensues, disorder reigns, as men continue to look at their own navels as if their appetite, “their universe,” could be satisfied by asserting that their way is the best way. Secular worship cannot escape itself, in fact it starts with itself and of course ends in itself.