I understand what is meant, but the wording is so fuzzy as to be theologically useless. God is omnipresent, and unless one thinks their worship gatherings are Ichabod by default, God was there to begin with.
In a previous post on the contemporary worship culture of the church, I wrote:
The danger we face when we worship is coming into the experience assuming we are summoning God. Assuming worship is our initiative. Assuming we are somehow the ones in control, that we are bringing the best of ourselves and our holy desire to worship. When the reality is, worship does not begin with the worshiper. It begins with God. It is a response to God’s calling upon us.
Our community is learning to treat the time we spend in corporate singing as a response to God's person and works. The division between God and us cannot be bridged by us, although we often act (and sing) like it can.
But "worship music" is not the only place where we should keep this order in mind. It's all worship -- prayer, study, work, meals and conversation, love and romance, sleep. What if we treated it all as our response to who God is and what he's done?
That is a worship that focuses on the object of worship and revels in the joy of grace.
The alternative -- prayer, study, work, etc. all done as ways to "initiate with God" -- treats God like a cosmic trinket machine that must be rocked a certain way to produce for us.
This doesn't mean we can't or shouldn't ask for things. It just means our asking comes with different motives. Our asking is derived from faith and freedom. The other way presumes that it is God who is not free and that he needs us to enable him to bless us.
No one seeks God.
He is both the author and finisher of our faith.
It is God who breathes life into us, it is God who speaks light into the darkness, it is God who commands into the tunnel, "Lazarus, come forth!"
And it is we who respond.
What would our worship in music look like if we came in acknowledging that God has already "shown up" in Creation, that he has already "shown up" in the Incarnation, that he has already "shown up" in the crucifixion and resurrection, and if we came in confessing that although he wants our worship, he does not need it? What would it look like if we played and sang like we are dust and he is the breath of life, instead of the other way around?
Let's stop trying to conjure up God (by which, let's be honest, we're really just trying to conjure up our emotions) and let us marvel and enjoy that he cannot be conjured.
Theology a "Response to the Word"
The Formation of Reformation, Part 3: Worship Culture