It seems that one of my spiritual ancestors, John Calvin, thought it was a good idea for the congregation to sing the creed. At least, so he indicated in his Geneva liturgy. I mention this so that it doesn’t appear to be a crazy innovation.
Actually, when you think about it, we’ve been doing something like what Calvin suggested, perhaps without knowing it. How many orders of service do you know that has a hymn following the sermon? Many if not most.
The proclamation of the Word calls for a response from the people. The reading of Scripture and subsequent preaching challenges worshippers to affirm their faith anew. One of the ways this is commonly done is by the singing of a hymn. Even if a creed is recited in unison, singing the song of faith is often included.
The reason that we sing hymns anywhere in a service, but especially after hearing the Word proclaimed, is that music makes what we sing more memorable than it would be if we only said it. Calvin knew that.
So, if we sing the creed, we’re going to remember it better than if we only spoke it. Since creeds are important if we are going to learn the language of faith, it helps to carry them in our memories, and set to music, creeds stay with us.
Now it’s entirely possible that we might just settle for hymns to fill the spot of creedal affirmation in the service. After all, aren’t all hymns, in one way or another, affirmations of faith? True enough. But some are better than others.
Often the hymn after the sermon is selected for its relationship to the preached message. Just as often hymns are connected to the special day or season of the Christian Year. When other relationships are obvious, the hymn’s use as a creed may not be so apparent. Nevertheless, it’s worth a try.
So let’s move in another direction and see if there are any hymns that lend themselves to use as a creed. Indeed there are. In the Presbyterian Hymnal, two pieces in particular are perfectly useful as creeds, because they are biblical affirmations set to music.
One is based on Philippians 2:5-1, number 148 in the Presbyterian Hymnal. The biblical text, so we’re told, was an affirmation of faith, probably used in worship. Its poetic format even hints that it may well have been sung originally. In this setting, the words of the text are restated in metrical verse, like a hymn, to be easily sung and, therefore, more easily remembered.
Another is found at number 598 of the Presbyterian Hymnal, based on 1 Corinthians 15. This, too, is supposed to have been poetry used and perhaps sung in early worship. Its setting in the hymnal is not as a hymn, however, but as service music. Clearly it’s intended to be used as a sung confession of faith.
Other traditional creeds, such as the Apostles’ Creed and the Nicene Creed can be and have been re-phrased to be sung or simply chanted. There are many options to be explored by pastors and musicians to enliven our professions of faith in God. Lifting our voices in song helps us lift our loyalty to God as we rejoice in our faith.
Do you sing or chant the creed in your worship service?
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Creed
Early in my pastoral ministry, the order of worship in the church I served included no such thing as a Creed or Affirmation of Faith. My predecessor had hoped and prayed that one might be included, but had encountered consistent resistance. When he died, it was left to me to take up the challenge.
This is not about the multi-year struggle that finally resulted in a Confession of Faith. Rather our discussion here focuses on what we’re talking about. What is an Affirmation of Faith, liturgically? Why is it important for everyone to stand up and say “We believe…” in unison? Or is it at all necessary? Maybe it’s not even a good idea to do it.
After church one morning I was confronted by a gentleman who announced politely, but firmly, that he was more than a little miffed that I had “put words in my mouth,” as he phrased it. He “resented” (his word) the Apostles’ Creed. “I can’t buy everything in that Creed,” he announced, “and what I do believe I wouldn’t say that way anyhow.” I don’t recall if I had a convincing response at that moment, and perhaps he was not convince-able anyway. But he did raise a good question about creeds in worship.
When we stand and say “We believe…,” are we articulating personal convictions? In that liturgical act, am I stating my individual theological conclusions?
Many worshippers, I suppose, trip over that assumption, that the creed in worship requires our personal assent, line for line and word for word.
The answer to the question, clearly, is “No.”
Part of the problem is that the Apostles’ Creed, ever popular in many Protestant churches, begins with the singular “I”, and sounds for all the world like a personal statement, signed at the bottom and notarized. (This is because, perhaps, it originated as a baptismal confession.) The Nicene Creed, which is perhaps more commonly used among all Christians, starts off with the plural pronoun.
In the course of a worship service, in which the “audience” is God, the creedal statement is an expression of God’s own people of confidence in the promises and gifts received in Jesus Christ. It is a corporate testimonial, an assertion of love and loyalty.
The corporate quality of the creed is not confined to those who happen to be in the room on Sunday morning, but expands to include the community of the saints, all those who have come before us and those who follow. In the moment of saying the creed, we link hands with generations of God’s own faithful people.
So we begin to realize that saying the creed is more celebrative than doctrinal, more poetic and prayerful than scholarly. It’s not an oral exam for either a Ph.D. thesis or Communicants’ Class, but an act of worship. We speak with no pretensions that we understand all Christian dogmas and doctrines including every jot and tittle. We simply utter our faith from our depths, doubts and all.
There are a number of resources available for affirming faith by a congregation at worship. The Apostles’ Creed and the Nicene Creed, of course, are used regularly.
The Presbyterian Church (USA) includes in its Book of Confessions a number of historical creeds and affirmations, many of which are in response to particular theological or doctrinal issues. Sections of some of them, however, can be excerpted and compiled into usable liturgical statements.
In 1983, the newly reunited denomination of the former northern and southern Presbyterian churches established a committee to draft a new, shorter statement of faith that could be used in worship. Drawing extensively on the historic documents in the “Book of Confessions” as well as Scripture, they fashioned “A Brief Statement of Faith”, arranged in a Trinitarian structure. It is laid out in “phrase-line” format, which makes it visually useful, and the language itself is appropriate for current worshippers. The three major sections can be used independently as creedal statements, along with the introduction based on Scripture texts, and the concluding doxology of praise and thanksgiving.
The Book of Common Worship (1983) also includes a number of affirmations from Scripture that are powerful congregational affirmations, such as the one from Phil. 2:5-11.
Some churches fashion their own home-made creedal statement. This can be an exceptionally exciting experience of learning and spiritual growth for the people involved. It’s important that the task not be accomplished by a small group alone—efforts must be made to involve classes and groups of the church in the process. It’s also essential that the local creed be seen in the context of the faith of the Church of Jesus Christ through the centuries.
How does your church’s congregation affirm faith during Sunday worship?
This is not about the multi-year struggle that finally resulted in a Confession of Faith. Rather our discussion here focuses on what we’re talking about. What is an Affirmation of Faith, liturgically? Why is it important for everyone to stand up and say “We believe…” in unison? Or is it at all necessary? Maybe it’s not even a good idea to do it.
After church one morning I was confronted by a gentleman who announced politely, but firmly, that he was more than a little miffed that I had “put words in my mouth,” as he phrased it. He “resented” (his word) the Apostles’ Creed. “I can’t buy everything in that Creed,” he announced, “and what I do believe I wouldn’t say that way anyhow.” I don’t recall if I had a convincing response at that moment, and perhaps he was not convince-able anyway. But he did raise a good question about creeds in worship.
When we stand and say “We believe…,” are we articulating personal convictions? In that liturgical act, am I stating my individual theological conclusions?
Many worshippers, I suppose, trip over that assumption, that the creed in worship requires our personal assent, line for line and word for word.
The answer to the question, clearly, is “No.”
Part of the problem is that the Apostles’ Creed, ever popular in many Protestant churches, begins with the singular “I”, and sounds for all the world like a personal statement, signed at the bottom and notarized. (This is because, perhaps, it originated as a baptismal confession.) The Nicene Creed, which is perhaps more commonly used among all Christians, starts off with the plural pronoun.
In the course of a worship service, in which the “audience” is God, the creedal statement is an expression of God’s own people of confidence in the promises and gifts received in Jesus Christ. It is a corporate testimonial, an assertion of love and loyalty.
The corporate quality of the creed is not confined to those who happen to be in the room on Sunday morning, but expands to include the community of the saints, all those who have come before us and those who follow. In the moment of saying the creed, we link hands with generations of God’s own faithful people.
So we begin to realize that saying the creed is more celebrative than doctrinal, more poetic and prayerful than scholarly. It’s not an oral exam for either a Ph.D. thesis or Communicants’ Class, but an act of worship. We speak with no pretensions that we understand all Christian dogmas and doctrines including every jot and tittle. We simply utter our faith from our depths, doubts and all.
There are a number of resources available for affirming faith by a congregation at worship. The Apostles’ Creed and the Nicene Creed, of course, are used regularly.
The Presbyterian Church (USA) includes in its Book of Confessions a number of historical creeds and affirmations, many of which are in response to particular theological or doctrinal issues. Sections of some of them, however, can be excerpted and compiled into usable liturgical statements.
In 1983, the newly reunited denomination of the former northern and southern Presbyterian churches established a committee to draft a new, shorter statement of faith that could be used in worship. Drawing extensively on the historic documents in the “Book of Confessions” as well as Scripture, they fashioned “A Brief Statement of Faith”, arranged in a Trinitarian structure. It is laid out in “phrase-line” format, which makes it visually useful, and the language itself is appropriate for current worshippers. The three major sections can be used independently as creedal statements, along with the introduction based on Scripture texts, and the concluding doxology of praise and thanksgiving.
The Book of Common Worship (1983) also includes a number of affirmations from Scripture that are powerful congregational affirmations, such as the one from Phil. 2:5-11.
Some churches fashion their own home-made creedal statement. This can be an exceptionally exciting experience of learning and spiritual growth for the people involved. It’s important that the task not be accomplished by a small group alone—efforts must be made to involve classes and groups of the church in the process. It’s also essential that the local creed be seen in the context of the faith of the Church of Jesus Christ through the centuries.
How does your church’s congregation affirm faith during Sunday worship?
Sunday, February 10, 2013
"Vee Haff Roolss!"
That was the comment my father used, imitating a stern German accent, as he good-naturedly reminded us kids of chores or homework we needed to do. His voice echoed in my mind as I thought of the fundamental efforts required to provide Christian worship.
Yes it is true, when we are gathered as followers of Jesus Christ to give our praise and prayers to the Almighty God, “We have rules!”
Here are a few for your consideration:
Clean House.
Janitors, custodians or volunteers who keep the worship space tidy contribute significantly to the worship of God. It’s distracting, to say the least, to find old bulletins stuffed in the pew racks, cob webs in corners, brochure rack materials helter-skelter, and other signs of slovenliness. Good housekeeping is the first rule of respect—of the people and their God.
Set the Table.
The Communion Table is placed in the focal center of the worship space, from the perspective of the people in the pews. “Front and center” is appropriate.
The Communion Table is set for celebrating the Sacrament. That is, assuming you are celebrating the Sacrament every Sunday as is the on-going tradition and custom for most Christians, most of the time throughout the centuries.
If not, if there is the occasional Lord’s Day you do not celebrate the Lord’s Supper, then set the Table anyway, with at the least a chalice and plate. A white table cloth is always appropriate; liturgical colors may be added seasonally.
Remember the Table’s function. It is not a flower stand—put them somewhere else. It’s not an altar either, on which deacons can place the offering plates. The Table is reserved for celebrating the sacrifice God gave us in Jesus Christ.
Find the Font.
In some churches, far too many, you have to hunt to find the Baptismal Font because when not in use it is relegated to a dark corner. Bring it out front and center also, or nearby the Table at least. Better yet, place it at the entrance of the room so all will pass it on the way to their seats.
If the Font has a top or lid, remove it, and put water in the basin. People may want to touch the water in remembrance of their own baptisms. Like the Table, the Font should always be set to indicate its intended purpose.
Unclutter.
Remove extra chairs, tables, easels, microphone stands, audio-visual equipment, musical instruments, and other items not being used for that service. Even if they are used, they need not be strewn on the liturgical landscape.
Use Three Passages of Scripture.
There’s a reason for this: Every text needs context. Someone famous once said that Scripture interprets Scripture. Texts from the Old Testament, the New Testament Epistles and the Gospels provide context for one another. The lectionary is a guide that helps us cover a lot of biblical ground over the year. Don’t skip and skimp.
Sing Psalms.
There was a time when we Presbyterians were famous, even notorious, for singing Psalms. In many churches, the Psalter is making a comeback, so don’t be left behind. The Psalms, as we all know, has been the prayer book of God’s people for millennia, including Jesus himself. Use at least one psalm in every service.
Too many churches take the “easy” way out and read the psalms, maybe responsively. It’s much better, more interesting, and even exciting to sing them, for there are delightful musical options for each one.
Beware of Electronics.
Older church buildings were designed to be used without electronic voice amplification. In those days, preachers and other public speakers knew how to project. Those who must rely on microphones and tweeters and woofers should take speaking lessons and exercise their diaphragms.
Flickering screens and Power Point presentations overshadow, if not overwhelm, the beauty of the architectural setting and the accoutrements of the rituals, not to mention any resident works of art in sculpture and stained glass. Do not obscure what is there or try to improve upon it by electronic means.
There’s a law somewhere that proclaims that whatever can go wrong, will. This is universally true in electronics. If you can possibly get along without audio-visuals and the like, do—it’s safer.
Rehearse
Lay Readers. Those who bravely go to the lectern to read Scripture or lead a prayer deserve the opportunity to learn how to do it. Pronouncing biblical names, placing proper emphasis on biblical phrases, making sense of theological passages, and presenting dialogue are only a few of the tricky parts of reading from the Bible. Help should be generously bestowed by the pastor and musicians who have had more experience.
Clergy. Lest clergy forget, they also need to rehearse. Preaching out loud in advance is just good practice. Turning on a tape recorder and listening can help.
Choir.
It should go without saying that the choir rehearses what it sings on behalf of the people; the choir should also rehearse what the congregation sings, however, so everyone sings better.
Help the People Pray and Praise.
The folks out there in the pews are the ones who are doing worship. Presiders and musicians are coaches and boosters, there to energize the liturgical work of the people. Remember your role and responsibilities.
There are other rules to be considered, no doubt. I hope you will make your suggestions for the primary, essential, absolutely necessary rules to which we must adhere if our worship will be effective and faithful.
Yes it is true, when we are gathered as followers of Jesus Christ to give our praise and prayers to the Almighty God, “We have rules!”
Here are a few for your consideration:
Clean House.
Janitors, custodians or volunteers who keep the worship space tidy contribute significantly to the worship of God. It’s distracting, to say the least, to find old bulletins stuffed in the pew racks, cob webs in corners, brochure rack materials helter-skelter, and other signs of slovenliness. Good housekeeping is the first rule of respect—of the people and their God.
Set the Table.
The Communion Table is placed in the focal center of the worship space, from the perspective of the people in the pews. “Front and center” is appropriate.
The Communion Table is set for celebrating the Sacrament. That is, assuming you are celebrating the Sacrament every Sunday as is the on-going tradition and custom for most Christians, most of the time throughout the centuries.
If not, if there is the occasional Lord’s Day you do not celebrate the Lord’s Supper, then set the Table anyway, with at the least a chalice and plate. A white table cloth is always appropriate; liturgical colors may be added seasonally.
Remember the Table’s function. It is not a flower stand—put them somewhere else. It’s not an altar either, on which deacons can place the offering plates. The Table is reserved for celebrating the sacrifice God gave us in Jesus Christ.
Find the Font.
In some churches, far too many, you have to hunt to find the Baptismal Font because when not in use it is relegated to a dark corner. Bring it out front and center also, or nearby the Table at least. Better yet, place it at the entrance of the room so all will pass it on the way to their seats.
If the Font has a top or lid, remove it, and put water in the basin. People may want to touch the water in remembrance of their own baptisms. Like the Table, the Font should always be set to indicate its intended purpose.
Unclutter.
Remove extra chairs, tables, easels, microphone stands, audio-visual equipment, musical instruments, and other items not being used for that service. Even if they are used, they need not be strewn on the liturgical landscape.
Use Three Passages of Scripture.
There’s a reason for this: Every text needs context. Someone famous once said that Scripture interprets Scripture. Texts from the Old Testament, the New Testament Epistles and the Gospels provide context for one another. The lectionary is a guide that helps us cover a lot of biblical ground over the year. Don’t skip and skimp.
Sing Psalms.
There was a time when we Presbyterians were famous, even notorious, for singing Psalms. In many churches, the Psalter is making a comeback, so don’t be left behind. The Psalms, as we all know, has been the prayer book of God’s people for millennia, including Jesus himself. Use at least one psalm in every service.
Too many churches take the “easy” way out and read the psalms, maybe responsively. It’s much better, more interesting, and even exciting to sing them, for there are delightful musical options for each one.
Beware of Electronics.
Older church buildings were designed to be used without electronic voice amplification. In those days, preachers and other public speakers knew how to project. Those who must rely on microphones and tweeters and woofers should take speaking lessons and exercise their diaphragms.
Flickering screens and Power Point presentations overshadow, if not overwhelm, the beauty of the architectural setting and the accoutrements of the rituals, not to mention any resident works of art in sculpture and stained glass. Do not obscure what is there or try to improve upon it by electronic means.
There’s a law somewhere that proclaims that whatever can go wrong, will. This is universally true in electronics. If you can possibly get along without audio-visuals and the like, do—it’s safer.
Rehearse
Lay Readers. Those who bravely go to the lectern to read Scripture or lead a prayer deserve the opportunity to learn how to do it. Pronouncing biblical names, placing proper emphasis on biblical phrases, making sense of theological passages, and presenting dialogue are only a few of the tricky parts of reading from the Bible. Help should be generously bestowed by the pastor and musicians who have had more experience.
Clergy. Lest clergy forget, they also need to rehearse. Preaching out loud in advance is just good practice. Turning on a tape recorder and listening can help.
Choir.
It should go without saying that the choir rehearses what it sings on behalf of the people; the choir should also rehearse what the congregation sings, however, so everyone sings better.
Help the People Pray and Praise.
The folks out there in the pews are the ones who are doing worship. Presiders and musicians are coaches and boosters, there to energize the liturgical work of the people. Remember your role and responsibilities.
There are other rules to be considered, no doubt. I hope you will make your suggestions for the primary, essential, absolutely necessary rules to which we must adhere if our worship will be effective and faithful.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Writing Prayers
Even if you’re a compulsive ad-lib sort of worship planner/leader, the time will come when you have to write down and print out the words of a unison prayer.
Now, you can get away with copying prayers from the Book of Common Worship (BCW) or other similar resource for a while, but you’ll discover that they have a shelf life and go stale after repeated use. Besides, prayers in the BCW are essentially models to be emulated, and not intended to be eternal substitutes for prayers created on site.
So often I run across unison prayers in a church bulletin that contain sentence fragments, strange syntax, subjects and verbs out of sync, and other distractions. Even when everything is “correct”, the prayer itself could benefit from more clarity.
Prayers in a worship service should be suitable to the people in the pews as well as the leaders. A unison prayer is made up of sentences designed to fit comfortably in the mouths of the people saying it. After all, it’s their prayer—the leader is just their coach.
Even the prayers spoken only by the leader on behalf of the people need to be stated appropriately for everyone. Petitions articulated solo by the presider should be written down as well, put together just as carefully as any unison prayer.
In either case, unison by all or solo statement by the presider, the prayers represent conversation between the people and the Almighty, and should, therefore, be shaped accordingly.
This is not to say that prayers should be expressed in jargon, slang or common clichés. Good grammar and crystal clear vocabulary used in a fashion worthy of the God addressed is obviously desired.
Writing prayers for worship is an art as much as it is a craft. One continues to learn how by doing—practice may not make perfect, but it sure helps. Here are a few suggestions:
Psalms It’s always a good idea to consult experts, and biblical sources of prayer are the places to begin. Maybe that’s why the Psalms have been so much a part of Christian (not to mention Jewish) worship through the centuries. The Psalter provides an education in prayer, not as a text book, but as a prayer book. Learn to pray the Psalms and you’ll write better prayers.
Poetry not Prose Remember that praying is more akin to poetry than it is to prose. Prose prayers often come out sounding like the phone book. Poetic prayers, drawing on biblical metaphors and symbols, carry more freight than humdrum prose. But poetic prayers are not so easy to come by. Read on.
Phrase-lining Many, if not all, the prayers in the BCW are laid out in a format called “phrase-lining”, that is, one phrase to each line. You can do the same, and find that even if you print it in prose format, it will read better. For example, this morning where I was visiting, the following prayer of confession, said in unison, started out this way:
Sometimes, God, we do not know what to confess. We seek to keep your law, but the right course is not always clear. We want to follow your direction, but it is hard to discern what is true….
Now, reversing the process, look at it in phrase-lined format, to see why it works so well.
Sometimes, God,
we do not know what to confess.
We seek to keep your law,
but the right course is not always clear.
We want to follow your direction,
but it is hard to discern what is true….
If it were up to me, I’d leave it in the bulletin that way, because even visually it looks more poetic and the substance more clearly stated.
Rhythm You’ll notice that in most good prayers there is a rhythm. No, not rap—just the natural rhythm of conversation. One of the ways you can check the rhythm of a prayer you’ve written is to read it out loud in your study (or other private place) while you walk around the room. If it’s out of rhythm, you’ll be the first to know.
Listen The best way, of course, to check the quality and appropriateness of your written prayer is to listen to it. You could use a recording device and play it back to yourself. Even better, however, is to ask your spouse or good friend to read it to you. Listen several times, and revise as you go.
Giving time and energy to writing prayers for worship is well worth it. It’s easy, among the multitude of tasks the church throws at worship planners and presiders, to neglect something as obvious as prayers. But the Audience of our prayers wants to hear from us, and so we should do our very best.
Do you review and re-write unison prayers before printing? Do you write out your pastoral and other prayers? Do you prepare any prayers for worship, memorize them and recite them in the service?
Now, you can get away with copying prayers from the Book of Common Worship (BCW) or other similar resource for a while, but you’ll discover that they have a shelf life and go stale after repeated use. Besides, prayers in the BCW are essentially models to be emulated, and not intended to be eternal substitutes for prayers created on site.
So often I run across unison prayers in a church bulletin that contain sentence fragments, strange syntax, subjects and verbs out of sync, and other distractions. Even when everything is “correct”, the prayer itself could benefit from more clarity.
Prayers in a worship service should be suitable to the people in the pews as well as the leaders. A unison prayer is made up of sentences designed to fit comfortably in the mouths of the people saying it. After all, it’s their prayer—the leader is just their coach.
Even the prayers spoken only by the leader on behalf of the people need to be stated appropriately for everyone. Petitions articulated solo by the presider should be written down as well, put together just as carefully as any unison prayer.
In either case, unison by all or solo statement by the presider, the prayers represent conversation between the people and the Almighty, and should, therefore, be shaped accordingly.
This is not to say that prayers should be expressed in jargon, slang or common clichés. Good grammar and crystal clear vocabulary used in a fashion worthy of the God addressed is obviously desired.
Writing prayers for worship is an art as much as it is a craft. One continues to learn how by doing—practice may not make perfect, but it sure helps. Here are a few suggestions:
Psalms It’s always a good idea to consult experts, and biblical sources of prayer are the places to begin. Maybe that’s why the Psalms have been so much a part of Christian (not to mention Jewish) worship through the centuries. The Psalter provides an education in prayer, not as a text book, but as a prayer book. Learn to pray the Psalms and you’ll write better prayers.
Poetry not Prose Remember that praying is more akin to poetry than it is to prose. Prose prayers often come out sounding like the phone book. Poetic prayers, drawing on biblical metaphors and symbols, carry more freight than humdrum prose. But poetic prayers are not so easy to come by. Read on.
Phrase-lining Many, if not all, the prayers in the BCW are laid out in a format called “phrase-lining”, that is, one phrase to each line. You can do the same, and find that even if you print it in prose format, it will read better. For example, this morning where I was visiting, the following prayer of confession, said in unison, started out this way:
Sometimes, God, we do not know what to confess. We seek to keep your law, but the right course is not always clear. We want to follow your direction, but it is hard to discern what is true….
Now, reversing the process, look at it in phrase-lined format, to see why it works so well.
Sometimes, God,
we do not know what to confess.
We seek to keep your law,
but the right course is not always clear.
We want to follow your direction,
but it is hard to discern what is true….
If it were up to me, I’d leave it in the bulletin that way, because even visually it looks more poetic and the substance more clearly stated.
Rhythm You’ll notice that in most good prayers there is a rhythm. No, not rap—just the natural rhythm of conversation. One of the ways you can check the rhythm of a prayer you’ve written is to read it out loud in your study (or other private place) while you walk around the room. If it’s out of rhythm, you’ll be the first to know.
Listen The best way, of course, to check the quality and appropriateness of your written prayer is to listen to it. You could use a recording device and play it back to yourself. Even better, however, is to ask your spouse or good friend to read it to you. Listen several times, and revise as you go.
Giving time and energy to writing prayers for worship is well worth it. It’s easy, among the multitude of tasks the church throws at worship planners and presiders, to neglect something as obvious as prayers. But the Audience of our prayers wants to hear from us, and so we should do our very best.
Do you review and re-write unison prayers before printing? Do you write out your pastoral and other prayers? Do you prepare any prayers for worship, memorize them and recite them in the service?
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Pastoral Prayers
When I was growing up, it was expected that kids would attend regular worship with their parents. One of the more memorable parts of the service for me as a teenager was, believe it or not, the Pastoral Prayer.
The reason I found the Pastoral Prayer noteworthy was on the average it lasted about 30 minutes. My junior high mentality found such theological appeals tedious and tiresome—I got some relief by timing them so I could report to my dad whether or not a record was set. Dad confessed that he often tuned out as well because the list of petitions seemed rambling, disorganized and never-ending.
Shifting the scene, I remember a different story about pastoral prayers told by a friend named Don. He was living and working in New York and became a regular worshipper at the Riverside Church when Harry Emerson Fosdick was Pastor.
The most memorable part of the service for Don was not necessarily Fosdick’s preaching, but more especially the Pastoral Prayers. Don would close his eyes to focus on the prayers he was hearing, and every time would have the sense that he and Harry were the only two people in the room. Fosdick’s prayers somehow had an intense intimacy, touching Don in meaningful and relevant ways.*
The contrast between these two experiences is instructive. Quite apart from the immature teenager’s view versus the grown-up adult’s approach, Fosdick’s prayers suggest a process of preparation worthy of consideration.
First of all, preparation of pastoral prayers begins before the pastor is even thinking of crafting a prayer. The seeds of such petitions are found in counseling situations, in hospital rooms, in social settings, in chance encounters at the grocery store, and many other times and places as pastor and people engage in the common events of life.
A good pastor is alert and cultivates the skill of listening so that it is second nature. Listening, however, is not simply to words, but to the depth of meaning behind them. Pastors learn to hear the anxieties and fears, the hopes and dreams, the joys and frustrations that are kept in the hearts and souls of the people.
At the same time, pastors become increasingly aware of the same unarticulated prayers rumbling about in their own souls. There is a kinship between pastor and people, not only in mutual humanness, but in receiving and rejoicing in the grace of God.
The time comes then that the Pastoral Prayer must be written down. The temptation may be to rattle off any old list of common petitions a là the pastor of my youth. A better approach is to focus on the people who will occupy the pews, recalling them personally.
I always had a church directory within reach at my desk, and before I started on the Pastoral Prayer, I’d flip through to remember the real people, with real needs and longings, who would be praying along with me on Sunday.
But the Pastoral Prayer is not just about church folks. There is a world of people beyond the walls where we worship who deserve our prayers, people who are worthy of our commitments because they, like us, are God’s children. Someone once suggested that sermons should be written with the Bible in one hand and the morning newspaper in the other—that is a formula that would hold for the Pastoral Prayer as well.
Finally, the actual writing of the Pastoral Prayer requires special attention. It’s not ordinary scribbling or pounding at the keyboard. Writing the Pastoral Prayer, like most other liturgical creations, is an act of prayer itself. The Spirit guides us in prayer, and the pastor should be alert and receptive to the Spirit’s promptings in the crafting of the Pastoral Prayer, spending some of the time in reflection and meditation.
The Pastoral Prayer is not incidental to worship. In many ways it is one of the most critical and essential liturgical acts. For here the people as individuals find their prayers articulated, and at the same time discover their commonality in needs and hopes, and their unity in faith that God’s grace comes generously to all.
How is the Pastoral Prayer presented in your church? Spoken by the pastor only? Prepared or ad lib? A series of brief prayers with responses? Something else?
*See A Book of Public Prayers by Harry Emerson Fosdick, Harper and Brothers, 1959. The prayers are couched in the language of a past generation, but they are nevertheless very instructive today.
The reason I found the Pastoral Prayer noteworthy was on the average it lasted about 30 minutes. My junior high mentality found such theological appeals tedious and tiresome—I got some relief by timing them so I could report to my dad whether or not a record was set. Dad confessed that he often tuned out as well because the list of petitions seemed rambling, disorganized and never-ending.
Shifting the scene, I remember a different story about pastoral prayers told by a friend named Don. He was living and working in New York and became a regular worshipper at the Riverside Church when Harry Emerson Fosdick was Pastor.
The most memorable part of the service for Don was not necessarily Fosdick’s preaching, but more especially the Pastoral Prayers. Don would close his eyes to focus on the prayers he was hearing, and every time would have the sense that he and Harry were the only two people in the room. Fosdick’s prayers somehow had an intense intimacy, touching Don in meaningful and relevant ways.*
The contrast between these two experiences is instructive. Quite apart from the immature teenager’s view versus the grown-up adult’s approach, Fosdick’s prayers suggest a process of preparation worthy of consideration.
First of all, preparation of pastoral prayers begins before the pastor is even thinking of crafting a prayer. The seeds of such petitions are found in counseling situations, in hospital rooms, in social settings, in chance encounters at the grocery store, and many other times and places as pastor and people engage in the common events of life.
A good pastor is alert and cultivates the skill of listening so that it is second nature. Listening, however, is not simply to words, but to the depth of meaning behind them. Pastors learn to hear the anxieties and fears, the hopes and dreams, the joys and frustrations that are kept in the hearts and souls of the people.
At the same time, pastors become increasingly aware of the same unarticulated prayers rumbling about in their own souls. There is a kinship between pastor and people, not only in mutual humanness, but in receiving and rejoicing in the grace of God.
The time comes then that the Pastoral Prayer must be written down. The temptation may be to rattle off any old list of common petitions a là the pastor of my youth. A better approach is to focus on the people who will occupy the pews, recalling them personally.
I always had a church directory within reach at my desk, and before I started on the Pastoral Prayer, I’d flip through to remember the real people, with real needs and longings, who would be praying along with me on Sunday.
But the Pastoral Prayer is not just about church folks. There is a world of people beyond the walls where we worship who deserve our prayers, people who are worthy of our commitments because they, like us, are God’s children. Someone once suggested that sermons should be written with the Bible in one hand and the morning newspaper in the other—that is a formula that would hold for the Pastoral Prayer as well.
Finally, the actual writing of the Pastoral Prayer requires special attention. It’s not ordinary scribbling or pounding at the keyboard. Writing the Pastoral Prayer, like most other liturgical creations, is an act of prayer itself. The Spirit guides us in prayer, and the pastor should be alert and receptive to the Spirit’s promptings in the crafting of the Pastoral Prayer, spending some of the time in reflection and meditation.
The Pastoral Prayer is not incidental to worship. In many ways it is one of the most critical and essential liturgical acts. For here the people as individuals find their prayers articulated, and at the same time discover their commonality in needs and hopes, and their unity in faith that God’s grace comes generously to all.
How is the Pastoral Prayer presented in your church? Spoken by the pastor only? Prepared or ad lib? A series of brief prayers with responses? Something else?
*See A Book of Public Prayers by Harry Emerson Fosdick, Harper and Brothers, 1959. The prayers are couched in the language of a past generation, but they are nevertheless very instructive today.
Friday, January 25, 2013
What Worship Will Be
Monday-morning-quarterbacking is a common activity among pundits and prophets in the religious realm. Anyone can look back and have the eyes of an eagle to spot the problems and issues that have got us into the present situation.
This is particularly true when thinking about worship. Reviewing the past and critiquing it is a usual approach to the current state of Christian liturgy, but to project one’s thoughts into the future is an altogether different and more difficult exercise.
So, for your consideration here’s some positive speculation about what our worship might be in the next generation or so, if we were to focus our attention and put real effort into reform and renewal of liturgy. The underlying premise here is not new: If liturgy is renewed and reformed, the church will be also.
Therefore, what I offer are hopes, dreams, perhaps even some wishful thinking – dare I suggest, “a vision”? – about what worship might be, could be for our grandchildren and their children. There’s no definite schedule—but we can glimpse it coming, over the horizon.
The church in the future will define itself by its worship life. For example: The Sacrament of Baptism will be the motivator for its education of Christians young and old. The Confession of Sin and reception of God’s forgiveness, will give each one personal release and the capacity to forgive others. The Word in Scripture will be the guide for the church’s witness to the Good News of God’s love for all people. The Lord’s Supper will be the feast to which all are invited to receive God’s nourishment for the journey of life. The Prayers of the People will rise up as individual and corporate commitments to perform caring acts, and dedication to carry out a healing mission to a hurting world.
Future Christians will be drawn to common worship each week—every week, in fact. They will be inwardly committed to attending, barring only sickness or urgent necessity. Should they miss a week for whatever reason, they’ll experience an emptiness, a loss of something important in their lives.
What is more, they’ll see their hour or so at worship as an active experience, requiring effort and energy and personal engagement. They’ll sing with emphasis and pray fervently. They’ll rejoice not only with volume and voice, but at the depths of the heart and soul. They will listen intently and take within their thoughts the Word proclaimed and interpreted. They’ll rehearse and relive their own baptisms along with every new disciple bathed in the holy sacrament. They’ll take and share food and drink with one another, and with the physically and spiritually hungry of the world. Their celebration will be in common with the praise and prayers of those around them, as well as with Christians in every land.
Christians of the future will not confine their worship activity to one day a week, but will accept or define self-discipline to lead them toward “praying without ceasing.” Such personal prayer will include prayers with others as well as solitary times. This daily prayer activity by individuals and small groups will compliment, support and continue the Lord’s Day worship of the whole church.
This coming generation of Christians will carry their worship experiences, Sunday or weekday, into their lives. They will leave the church building, or rise from personal prayer, energized and enthusiastic* to carry out the particular mission with which God has entrusted them. They’ll do so courageously and foolishly, risking all for the one who gave everything for them.
If this is the vision, then the task is to aim our liturgy in that direction. It’s not so much to wag the finger of criticism of the past practices, as it is to see what needs to change to get better results. (Although, it’s helpful to keep history of past failure and foolishness in sight so as not to repeat it.)
For your church, what would “perfect” worship look like? What do you personally hope for in congregational worship life? How do you project your personal prayer life into the future?
*The word enthusiasm has its origins in Greek (en-theos, or having God within).
This is particularly true when thinking about worship. Reviewing the past and critiquing it is a usual approach to the current state of Christian liturgy, but to project one’s thoughts into the future is an altogether different and more difficult exercise.
So, for your consideration here’s some positive speculation about what our worship might be in the next generation or so, if we were to focus our attention and put real effort into reform and renewal of liturgy. The underlying premise here is not new: If liturgy is renewed and reformed, the church will be also.
Therefore, what I offer are hopes, dreams, perhaps even some wishful thinking – dare I suggest, “a vision”? – about what worship might be, could be for our grandchildren and their children. There’s no definite schedule—but we can glimpse it coming, over the horizon.
The church in the future will define itself by its worship life. For example: The Sacrament of Baptism will be the motivator for its education of Christians young and old. The Confession of Sin and reception of God’s forgiveness, will give each one personal release and the capacity to forgive others. The Word in Scripture will be the guide for the church’s witness to the Good News of God’s love for all people. The Lord’s Supper will be the feast to which all are invited to receive God’s nourishment for the journey of life. The Prayers of the People will rise up as individual and corporate commitments to perform caring acts, and dedication to carry out a healing mission to a hurting world.
Future Christians will be drawn to common worship each week—every week, in fact. They will be inwardly committed to attending, barring only sickness or urgent necessity. Should they miss a week for whatever reason, they’ll experience an emptiness, a loss of something important in their lives.
What is more, they’ll see their hour or so at worship as an active experience, requiring effort and energy and personal engagement. They’ll sing with emphasis and pray fervently. They’ll rejoice not only with volume and voice, but at the depths of the heart and soul. They will listen intently and take within their thoughts the Word proclaimed and interpreted. They’ll rehearse and relive their own baptisms along with every new disciple bathed in the holy sacrament. They’ll take and share food and drink with one another, and with the physically and spiritually hungry of the world. Their celebration will be in common with the praise and prayers of those around them, as well as with Christians in every land.
Christians of the future will not confine their worship activity to one day a week, but will accept or define self-discipline to lead them toward “praying without ceasing.” Such personal prayer will include prayers with others as well as solitary times. This daily prayer activity by individuals and small groups will compliment, support and continue the Lord’s Day worship of the whole church.
This coming generation of Christians will carry their worship experiences, Sunday or weekday, into their lives. They will leave the church building, or rise from personal prayer, energized and enthusiastic* to carry out the particular mission with which God has entrusted them. They’ll do so courageously and foolishly, risking all for the one who gave everything for them.
If this is the vision, then the task is to aim our liturgy in that direction. It’s not so much to wag the finger of criticism of the past practices, as it is to see what needs to change to get better results. (Although, it’s helpful to keep history of past failure and foolishness in sight so as not to repeat it.)
For your church, what would “perfect” worship look like? What do you personally hope for in congregational worship life? How do you project your personal prayer life into the future?
*The word enthusiasm has its origins in Greek (en-theos, or having God within).
Sunday, January 20, 2013
"Transition"
The First Sunday of Christmas I was the guest preacher (and worship leader) at a lovely church in a rural community not far from my home. The pastor who had invited me to fill in for him, so he could go to a family wedding out of town, gave me a head’s-up about a change from the Book of Common Worship order that he had made.
This was the change: The Passing the Peace was set at the very beginning of the worship service, preceded only by a few announcements and the Prelude.
And this is what it looked like: People gathered a few at a time, greeting one another, getting various things ready for the service. As the appointed time approached, one gentleman took himself to the balcony at the rear of the room. And when the minute hand on the clock hit twelve, he pulled on the chord and rang the bell to summon the faithful. The chit-chat ended, and people took their places. A few quick announcements were given. And then…
The peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all.
And also with you.
Whereupon everyone rose, greeted those around them with the words, “Peace be with you,” or other similar words.
It was a small congregation of about fifteen or so. Almost all had arrived early and had a chance to exchange friendly “hellos”. When they came to “pass the Peace”, they stuck to the script, as best I could tell, and only blessed one another with the Peace of Christ. In a very few minutes, everyone was able to give the liturgical greeting to everyone else.
What happened was that in starting the service with the Passing of the Peace, a transition was made from one realm to another. Before that ritual took place, the group was a bunch of friends and a few strangers who came to church. During the Passing of the Peace they became the Church of Jesus Christ.
Granted that the small size of the congregation made the transition, from a gathering of friends to God’s people assembled for Christian worship, rather simple and smooth. Nevertheless, it was clear that the nature and purpose of the group had shifted from mundane to special, from ordinary to extraordinary.
This experience raises the question about how we deal with this transition from the worldly sphere to the time and place when we enter the promised presence of Almighty God.
In most Sunday morning situations, the place of worship is reserved for the event of worship. Merely entering the room helps worshippers to make or at least start the transition. The friendly gathering can take place in the narthex or vestibule beforehand.
Yet in some churches, the worship room is also used for other things such as a class or choir rehearsal. A shift needs to be made so that the room itself is transformed. And, for those who come early and see the room used for another purpose, the experience of transition is somewhat more difficult.
Presbytery meetings often provide another illustration. In our neck of the woods, presbytery meetings almost always take place in the worship space of a church. Screens on the wall show agendas and resolutions and charts. Pews are strewn with papers, and the pulpit becomes a podium. Microphones and speakers and other electronic materials are in evidence. The room has clearly become a meeting hall, and is only barely recognized as a place for worship.
So, when the time arrives for the body to stop being a council of the church debating and deliberating, and become the church of Jesus Christ at worship, a great transition needs to be made. In this case, first and foremost the space needs to be reclaimed for its intended purpose and use. That means collecting all the scattered papers, reinstating the liturgical furniture in the proper places, removing distractions from the room’s focal and symbolic centers, getting unnecessary electronics out of the way, and so forth. More than a reclaiming of the worship environment, however, there needs to be a transition from a group of people doing business to a particular expression of God’s people gathered as Christ’s Church.
Over and again such a transition takes place, sometimes clearly, other times without much definition. So it’s important that those responsible for worship planning, preparation and leadership pay attention to how the transition may be encouraged if not enabled.
What happens to help the transition from worldly activity to worship in your church? Do you see the transition take place in other settings?
This was the change: The Passing the Peace was set at the very beginning of the worship service, preceded only by a few announcements and the Prelude.
And this is what it looked like: People gathered a few at a time, greeting one another, getting various things ready for the service. As the appointed time approached, one gentleman took himself to the balcony at the rear of the room. And when the minute hand on the clock hit twelve, he pulled on the chord and rang the bell to summon the faithful. The chit-chat ended, and people took their places. A few quick announcements were given. And then…
The peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all.
And also with you.
Whereupon everyone rose, greeted those around them with the words, “Peace be with you,” or other similar words.
It was a small congregation of about fifteen or so. Almost all had arrived early and had a chance to exchange friendly “hellos”. When they came to “pass the Peace”, they stuck to the script, as best I could tell, and only blessed one another with the Peace of Christ. In a very few minutes, everyone was able to give the liturgical greeting to everyone else.
What happened was that in starting the service with the Passing of the Peace, a transition was made from one realm to another. Before that ritual took place, the group was a bunch of friends and a few strangers who came to church. During the Passing of the Peace they became the Church of Jesus Christ.
Granted that the small size of the congregation made the transition, from a gathering of friends to God’s people assembled for Christian worship, rather simple and smooth. Nevertheless, it was clear that the nature and purpose of the group had shifted from mundane to special, from ordinary to extraordinary.
This experience raises the question about how we deal with this transition from the worldly sphere to the time and place when we enter the promised presence of Almighty God.
In most Sunday morning situations, the place of worship is reserved for the event of worship. Merely entering the room helps worshippers to make or at least start the transition. The friendly gathering can take place in the narthex or vestibule beforehand.
Yet in some churches, the worship room is also used for other things such as a class or choir rehearsal. A shift needs to be made so that the room itself is transformed. And, for those who come early and see the room used for another purpose, the experience of transition is somewhat more difficult.
Presbytery meetings often provide another illustration. In our neck of the woods, presbytery meetings almost always take place in the worship space of a church. Screens on the wall show agendas and resolutions and charts. Pews are strewn with papers, and the pulpit becomes a podium. Microphones and speakers and other electronic materials are in evidence. The room has clearly become a meeting hall, and is only barely recognized as a place for worship.
So, when the time arrives for the body to stop being a council of the church debating and deliberating, and become the church of Jesus Christ at worship, a great transition needs to be made. In this case, first and foremost the space needs to be reclaimed for its intended purpose and use. That means collecting all the scattered papers, reinstating the liturgical furniture in the proper places, removing distractions from the room’s focal and symbolic centers, getting unnecessary electronics out of the way, and so forth. More than a reclaiming of the worship environment, however, there needs to be a transition from a group of people doing business to a particular expression of God’s people gathered as Christ’s Church.
Over and again such a transition takes place, sometimes clearly, other times without much definition. So it’s important that those responsible for worship planning, preparation and leadership pay attention to how the transition may be encouraged if not enabled.
What happens to help the transition from worldly activity to worship in your church? Do you see the transition take place in other settings?
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