From Nostalgia to Reality

‘Tis the season to indulge in nostalgia.

The sights and smells of Christmas time evoke memories in all of us of bygone days when life was simpler and sweeter. Movies in our minds project flickering images of our own childhoods, and those of our children, and dispense emotions of excitement and love and peace. It’s a lovely time to remember, to recall how wonderful Christmas used to be for us and our children.

I confess that I enjoy this sort of remembering as much as the next person. Nary a Christmas goes by that I fail to remember happy celebrations of my childhood and youth. Songs sung over the radio today evoke memories of special times and special people long ago. Excitement in the eyes of grandchildren brings back warm thoughts of my own children anticipating Christmas Day.

Yes, I enjoy all this—but up to a point.

A couple of weeks ago I didn’t make it to church, spending the morning at home instead with angry sinuses. So I decided to tour the channels to see if a reasonable TV substitute might be available. I lighted on a broadcast from a large church loaded with Christmas-y decorations. The host was just introducing the guest artist, a Christian pianist who would perform music of the season. The artist played “Jingle Bells.”

It was like watching an automobile accident—it was so terrible, I could not stop looking at it. It was blatant nostalgia, totally devoid of any theology whatsoever. He was a fine pianist and got a swell round of applause, so it would seem that everyone bought the heresy of it.

Unfortunately there’s a lot of that around these days. The problem Christian worship planners have is to stand apart from sheer nostalgia and celebrate the miracle of the Incarnation.

The trouble with nostalgia is that it is not likely to be either complete or accurate recall. It includes only happy times. Our memories of the past are often highly edited and devoid of those things that we choose not to remember. In other words, nostalgia is out of touch with reality.

When we let this culture of sentimentality overtake and overwhelm the worship of God coming in Christ, we delete from the Gospel story all that is undesirable and even evil.

The recent tragic murderous rampage leaving elementary school children and teachers dead is a sobering contradiction of nostalgia. Not only the parents who lost children, and the families and friends of others killed, but all parents and teachers and most everyone everywhere will have a very non-nostalgic recollection of this coming Christmas.

What happened a week ago in Connecticut was beyond a doubt an evil event. Yet in a profound way, it has driven us all to look at Christmas in a more biblical fashion.

The slaughter of the innocents in Sandy Hook Elementary School makes us remember the slaughter of the innocents by Herod in hopes of murdering the presumptive child-king of the Jews. “Wailing and loud lamentation” can be heard from many Rachels today. (Matthew 2:18)

The birth of Jesus took place in a real world, one where violence and death stalked the land. Our celebration of Christ’s birth today happens in a disturbingly similar reality.

Martin Luther said something about the shadow of the cross falling across the baby Jesus in the manger. Christ’s humble birth and his violent death are both part of God’s singular redemptive act.

We do well in our festivities at Christmas to move past the happy memories of yesteryear and celebrate the true joy that comes from recognizing the astounding love of God, a love that was willing to die for each of us and for all people.

Worshipping the Christ Child is just the beginning of following the Crucified and Risen Christ. Christmas is not a time to harken back to an ancient tale of times gone by, but to welcome Christ born again this Christmas in our lives. This is the start of a journey which for many people is a dangerous one. Yet we travel through this world of evil and woe confident of God’s redemptive love, no matter what.

What in your Christmas worship points you beyond nostalgia to reality?

Going to School?

“Catechesis” [kat-i-kee-sis] — now there’s a word you can use to impress your friends. It’s a seventy-five cent word defined as “oral religious instruction, most often used referring to the education of people preparing for full participation in the faith community.

The term persists in the more common words, “catechism” (the Q and A method of teaching religious doctrine) and “catechumens” (those who are being taught).

All of this has to do with the “religious education” program of the church, designed for children, and occasional adults. We Presbyterians have been diligent in such catechesis not only in the “communicants’ classes”, but in stalwart Christian Ed. programs as well.

Yet this is much too narrow an understanding of “catechesis”. Take a peek outside the box.

I was talking with a Jewish friend of mine a few weeks ago, and he admonished me for not visiting his synagogue for worship recently. “I’d love to have you come,” he said, “to shul.” It sounded almost like he said “school”—and he did, but it was the Yiddish word. For Jews, worship is also considered an educational opportunity to learn history, culture and faith.

Every once in a while I come across a comment from an Episcopalian (or Anglican) about the Book of Common Prayer being a wonderful educational resource for faith and doctrine. More than a liturgical reference and support, the volume has status as a theological piece.

My Orthodox friends tell me that their worship is chock full of learning. Prayers tell stories, parables are visualized in icons and mosaics, theology is acted out in gestures and movement.

So, what would life be like in our churches if we took a cue from these folks and came to see what happens on a Sunday morning as going to worship which is also “going to school”? What if we thought of church not only as going to talk to God, but to hear what God has to say to us?

Here are a few possibilities.

For one thing, the participation of the worshipping congregation would have to be more active than passive. No longer would the “comfortable pew” be the dominating image of attending church.

Corporate worship is a school to train us in how to pray, what to pray, and how to live out those prayers in the rough realities of life outside the church doors. It will be filled with history lessons that connect with our personal histories. Worship will put us in the presence of God so we can recognize where God is present in our lives every day.

We will also find that we have our own set of written resources. The Bible is the main volume, to be sure, and a copy should be handy in the pew racks for those who want to read along with the reader, or to see for themselves the context of the text. Yet there is also The Book of Common Worship (BCW) and The Presbyterian Hymnal and The Psalter, and the anthems sung by the choir, and probably much more. These, and their counterparts in other traditions, are “text books” in the school of Christian worship, useful in teaching the essentials of the faith.

To this end, copies of the BCW ought to be in the hands of all musicians and church teachers, and it would be wonderful if each member’s home had a copy. The same with the Hymnal and Psalter—they have valuable versions of prayers and praise useful at the family table at home.

What is more, the Sunday morning education for all worshippers might just encourage adults to pursue catechesis, instead of dropping off their children and going for coffee. Maybe attendance in adult classes would increase when grownups discover they don’t know as much as their children about our faith. “Faith formation”, as the term is these days, is on-going for all ages.

Finally, the converse is also true. We might just find out that children find worship more interesting if they are learning from it, and not just occupying space until they can scamper out. After all, early on the only Christian education anyone got was being among the worshipping community. In this day and age, people, especially the younger ones, are more likely to be shaped by education that is more experiential than literate, more oral than written.

Worship is always a time for us to express ourselves candidly before God—our needs and wants, hopes and fears. It is also when we put ourselves in position to be impressed by God. What is always impressive is that we are in the presence of God, we are with our risen Lord, and we are moved by the spirit within each of us and among us all.

What impresses you (makes a change in your life) when you go to worship? What did you learn about your faith the last time?

Here We Go Again

Today is the First Sunday in the Season of Advent, and the “Christian Year” is off and running once again.

It so happens, as it always has, that the secular culture got the drop on us and started celebrating the non-church version of Christmas around the early part of November. This included mostly wintery songs and Christmas carols played by local radio stations and over store speakers, with red and green decorations sprouting up upon and within most retail establishments.

This means that by the time we get around to celebrating the Birth of our Savior, many of the hymns we sing will have been all but worn out over the airways. For most people, Christmas will be only a single day, and its celebration will stop short. For those who keep the Christian Calendar, however, it will continue for Twelve Days. This will require some recalculation for Christians who want to follow the on-going story of the coming of the Messiah.

One of the problems regularly besetting congregations and their pastors and musicians this time of year is whether or not to sing Christmas hymns and carols during Advent, or wait until Christmas itself comes around. Inevitably, there will arise with clenched fist church members who want to sing Christmas carols in church because everyone is hearing them played in the shopping malls anyway, and so why shouldn’t we sing them in church. Usually some truce is negotiated.

But that isn’t the only recalculation needed if we’re going to celebrate Advent at all properly.

What is even more important is for us to remember that the Four Sundays in Advent are times of preparation for Christmas. Therefore, we observant Christians must remember not only that we must wait to begin Christmas, but that we have to shift gears into reverse. There is much to be done before we can even start celebrating.

Advent’s colors are clues for us.

The color purple suggests that Advent is a somber season. It is, in fact, a season of penitence, patterned after the older Season of Lent. The shouts of John the Baptist to “Repent!” will echo through the texts and sermons the Second Sunday.

Here we are called upon to reflect on our own need, and the world’s need, for the coming of the Messiah. If we do not recognize and freely admit that we need who Christ is and what he has to offer our wounded souls and this broken world, we will not likely be very receptive to the Gift he is and all he brings.

Blue is another color sometimes used during Advent. It symbolizes Hope. Advent is a time when we hear the hopes and longings of people in ancient times crying out again today in the yearnings of so many around the world. The desires of the Prophets ring out for what God has promised in the way of justice and peace.

One more color shows up in the candle on the Advent Wreath for that Third Sunday. Pink is the color associated with Joy. It reminds us of a text appointed for this day, Philippians 4:4-7, which begins with the word “rejoice”. Somber season though it may be, this is a reminder that the impending coming of God in Jesus Christ is a cause for great and abounding joy among all peoples.

Christmas is not a time to be treated lightly. It must be approached with reverent preparation in the form of reflection, expectation and anticipation. In other words, we should take a step or two back before we step forward.

May your Advent be a season of many blessings.

Thermometer or Thermostat?

The discussion the other day was about the church. A metaphorical question was raised: Is the Church a thermometer or thermostat?

One could explore that thought in a variety of ways, but let’s ask that question about how we worship currently. Is what we do on a Sunday morning a mere reflection of the cultural temperature of the world around us? Or, could it possibly be that the celebrations of little bands of God’s people on the Lord’s Day might affect the worldly culture with needed changes?

The temptation, of course, is to set our liturgical thermostat so that it corresponds to the desires and values of potential pew-sitters. If we want the younger generation, then we might do well, we think, to re-set the liturgy to look and sound like what they like.

That approach is doomed to failure, because sooner than later the culture shifts. The latest and greatest quickly becomes old hat, and the worship planners scramble to keep up with the curve.

The direction for our worship, then, comes from outside, from unreliable sources if you’re looking for lasting values and eternal truths.

This is not to say that twenty-first century worship should avoid everything new. Surely new liturgy is being created week-in-and-week-out in congregations around the world. Hymns are composed, prayers crafted, sermons delivered, believers and their children bathed, and people share a meal of bread and wine, all fresh and relevant to a particular time and place. At the same time, the content and message of today’s worship comes from another source.

Christian liturgy carries content designed to affect the people of God, and through them to change the world’s culture. In a very real sense, the substance of Christian worship is subversive, seeking to undermine prevailing unholy values. Yet sometimes the way we prepare and present worship serves to edit the message so it is less radical and more acceptable to the people in the pews.

For example, I always wonder why it is that a pastor or session or perhaps someone else in authority decides to omit a Prayer of Confession. Is it perhaps because there is an underlying conviction that no one there really has much if anything to confess, either to admit in front of everyone else in the room or, much less, to disclose to the Almighty?

Even if a prayer of confession is in the order of service, it can also be edited in such fashion as to be a spoonful of sugar rather than a bitter pill to swallow. Consider this familiar prayer that begins, “Merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart and mind and strength. We have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. . . .” That may be more honesty than some can tolerate. I remember one parishioner who regularly confronted me after church asserting, “I’m not as bad as it said in that prayer of confession.” He wanted a thermometer to read him as he thought he was, rather than a thermostat to point to how he ought to be, as indicated in the balance of that prayer: “In your mercy forgive what we have been, help us amend what we are, and direct what we shall be, so that we may delight in your will and walk in your ways, to the glory of your holy name.”

In the same fashion, the Confession of Faith can be left out altogether because the quaint concepts in the Nicene or Apostles’ Creeds are deemed irrelevant to our modern needs. I think it may have been the same parishioner I mentioned above who complained about the historic creeds as being “words put in his mouth.” Of course, a home-made creedal affirmation can be assembled that is more satisfactory to the general populace, but it will likely be theologically thin.

And sermons are at particular risk here. I always thought I was fairly straightforward in proclaiming the Gospel as both good news of God’s grace and a call for repentance and renewal. On retiring I found, however, that I felt much freer to preach the Gospel in full when the people listening were not paying my salary. We like to think there is not such pressure, but there really is.

At any rate, the purpose of worship is not to make us cozy and comfortable in the fact that God loves us. We come together to be renewed and resurrected to a life with the risen Christ. Sometimes this sounds more like bad news than good. That’s when we should start to see liturgy not as a thermometer that tells us where we are, but as a thermostat to regulate the temperature of our passion for Christian service and witness.

Do you ever take the opportunity to review a worship service with others? Have you ever noticed adjustments or softening of the Gospel’s demands and requirements?

Attitude and Aptitude

I’ve been out on the “Sermon Circuit” again, and come up against a problem that should never happen. I’m not even sure why it does, but it does. Here’s my story.

I got myself on the road bright and early, well, early enough to make a quick pass at Dunkin’ Donuts and still arrive early at my destination. I was greeted at the door by the kind lady with the key who informed me that she was the musician of the morning. At least she was prepared to play the electronic keyboard—although she was quick to admit that she hadn’t played in a decade and a half and might be reduced to one finger at a time.

A few folks arrived to scramble around and put the place in order for the service. With about ten minutes left on the clock, someone glanced at the empty Communion Table and realized that the set-up team had not arrived. A hasty sortie to a nearby convenience store netted three sandwich buns, two of which were broken in pieces, the third left for breaking in the service.

More fussing was required to arrange furniture, get out the table cloth, set the table, find a place for the offering plates, and hang the pulpit cloth.

By the time the hour struck, all was ready, more or less. It was a breathless beginning, yet the service proceeded well and we all praised God. However….

What struck me was how unfortunate it was that the lay leaders of the church were not better prepared, and that they apparently did not take it seriously enough to have everything set up well in advance. Frankly, the set-up for the service revealed a slipshod manner and a casual attitude toward worship. Everyone improvised well, including me, but improvising should not be standard operating procedure on Sundays.

I don’t mean to be harsh in criticizing these people. I’ve been under pressure myself and had to scramble at times. Dealing with unexpected crises, minor and major, can throw everything out of balance. Nevertheless, there are two things that occur to me that might have helped in this situation.

First the attitude of the people about worship needed improvement. Somehow folks in our churches need to learn by experience, teaching, and mutual support that worship is at the heart and soul of being Christian. Without that faith basis, the church is built on sand, on sinking sand, all of which may be exactly the problem in so many of our churches with dwindling membership. If members don’t believe that worship is central to their lives, and act like it, it’s not likely they will attract anyone else.

How does one change the attitude of church people? It requires a culture change. That takes time, a lot of conversation, strong education, and clear expectations of members expressed by the church leadership. It’s a never-ending process, because people get comfy and soft and forgetful, and treat congregational life all too casually.

The other improvement needed was in the people’s aptitude regarding worship. They needed to be trained on best practices about worship, why it’s important to have the scene set before most people arrive, and what different responsibilities need to be filled. Simply, the people—all the people—need training in what’s involved in a worship service and how it gets prepared.

Musicians need to sit down regularly with the pastor to go over plans for congregational singing, and the congregation will benefit from instruction in new hymns and service music. Deacons and those responsible for hospitality and ushering need to understand how important their roles can be to the worshipping community. People who care for the cleaning and arrangement of the worship space also have essential responsibilities.

Worship, when done well, is never a simple casual affair. What we offer God should be the best we’ve got to give—the best music, the best setting, the best sermon, the best prayers. Planning should also be our very best. When we come to worship, well prepared, we offer it all up to God, and if there are glitches and mistakes we chalk it off to our humanity. Sometimes the unexpected malfunction or mishap can be the opening for the Spirit to give us a humility lesson. But we don’t need to create those opportunities—they just happen often enough.

What’s the attitude of folks in your congregation about worship? Do they have sufficient aptitude to prepare for and participate in worship?

Sacramental Absence

A while back I attended a church service in a majestic nineteenth century structure, with an arching, spacious sanctuary.

Immediately my eye was attracted to a table located in the focal center of the worship space. I had to assume it was the Communion Table, because it was resting incognito under a brightly colored, patterned cloth which had no liturgical meaning as far as I could tell. Since there was nothing on it resembling dinner ware or even a modest plate and chalice, there was no hint that the table had any use whatsoever.

After several minutes of visual searching, I sighted the baptismal font stowed off in a corner. Obviously wherever this piece of furniture had been before, it was in the way, so it was safely transported virtually out of sight, thus out of mind.

The service itself was well thought out and well led; musicians, lay readers and clergy prompted worship by the congregation for the most part. As you might guess, however, neither Baptism nor Communion was celebrated, nor even mentioned. They were absent, completely.

As I pondered this experience for the rest of the day, another memory popped to the surface, of a local gathering of Roman Catholic and Protestant clergy to reflect on the recently concluded Second Vatican Council and its pronouncements.

The priests wanted to know how we Protestants managed to come up with a sermon week after week. From what they said, this part of their worship was minimal, a few devotional words, something supplied by a homily service maybe, or just some ad lib remarks. But, for them, a full-fledged sermon was a scary new concept.

On the minds of the Protestants was why and how did the Catholics celebrate the Eucharist week after week. Not that we were particularly eager to do so in our churches, but it was an intriguing thought. We got by with only four Communions a year, maybe fine.

Swapping stories and theological rationales was the beginning of both groups discovering the dangers of minimalizing major parts of worship. Suppress preaching and the sacramental rite gets more and more complicated and cumbersome, and the principal, maybe sole, bearer of theology. On the other hand, push the sacraments off in a corner, and the proclamation of Scripture dominates worship to the point of making everything else in the service of minor importance.

Going back to the top of the page, in the Victorian church where I was that morning, it was clearly a preaching-centered service. While the offering appeared after the sermon and prayers of the people, there was no indication that it had any distant connection with Communion or represented a vestige of the Eucharistic liturgy. The Scripture-sermon section was the heart and soul of the service.

I want to be clear that in no sense did I perceive that the preacher was deliberately managing any of this. The sermon was thoughtful, timely and relevant for that congregation, and well presented.

The problem came from the absence of the sacraments. When they are not present, everything else expands to fill their space. Liturgy, like nature, abhors a vacuum, and where one is created, other things get amplified, whether they like it or not.

For one thing, minus weekly Eucharist, the service becomes word dominant. Listening is the main occupation of the people in the pews. The senses of touch, taste and smell are minimized.

What is more, worship becomes mainly a mental activity. Not that thinking during worship is a bad thing, but sermons might tend to lean in the direction of being polemical or argumentative rather than prophetic and evangelical. Giving a theology lesson from the pulpit is different from preaching the Good News the preacher-sinner needs to share with the sinners in the pews.

Also, preaching from a pulpit three steps up from everyone else is not the same as sharing food and drink across a table. The intimacy of the sacraments is needed to balance the authoritarian atmosphere of the pulpit.

That’s what it’s all about, I decided. Balance. Word and Sacrament. Not “just Word, and when we get around to it maybe we’ll have a Sacrament.” Both sacraments need to be present every Sunday. If there are no actual baptisms to take place, the font, with water, should be placed where everyone can at least see it, even better walk past it on the way in. Every Sunday, Communion or not, the table should be set, with bread on the plate and wine in the chalice.

The absence of the sacraments from regular Lord’s Day worship can create imbalance not only to the order of service, but to the meaning of worship.

Where you worship, is sacramental furniture set for use and visible even when the sacraments are not observed? How often does your church have the Lord’s Supper? Why?

On Becoming (and Being) the Church

It never ceases to amaze me that so many church people can have a take-it-or-leave-it attitude when it comes to Lord’s Day worship.

I know that many (if not most) members consider the hour on Sunday morning to be one among many activities on the congregational smorgasbord, and not necessarily the most important.

Expectation of church leaders is too often low as well. One would think elders and deacons would be exemplary in their attendance. Were any one of them to be absent it would be certain that the reason would illness or necessary travel. That’s not always so, however. Elected leaders are subject to the same frailties as other mortals.

I recall the time in my own ministry when a few elders felt it was time to crank up expectations about members’ participation in the life of the church. They recommended, among other things, that the session should announce to the members that all are expected to attend at least two Sundays each month. The elders balked at that—“too much” they said to expect of others, not to mention themselves. So how about once a month? Nope, that’s too dictatorial. So the idea was abandoned for want of enthusiasm.

Clergy, I know all too well from first-hand experience, are besieged from all sides by other tasks, chores and responsibilities that distract from making Sunday worship top priority. It’s easy to let things slip and slide so that the planning and preparing is not the best. That’s an explanation sometimes perhaps, but never an excuse.

Other worship leaders, lay readers and musicians, for example, and those who prepared the space, need beware slacking off, taking shortcuts, giving less than the very best. Nonchalant and perfunctory preparation can sneak up and take charge.

If this attitude of neglect begins to dominate the Sunday morning worship event, before anyone knows what’s happening, worship is casual to the point that many people could care less about what’s happening. Slipshod leadership and passive participation easily become the order of the day.

All of this is reason for some folks, like myself, to get riled up about the need to renew worship in our churches. We suspect that there might just possibly be a connection between the decline in worship attendance in recent years and our lackadaisical approach to the Almighty.

What is more, we have a deeper suspicion that the renewal of our worship would contribute greatly to the renewal of the Church. Making the connection between healthier worship in congregations to a healthier local church, and from there to a more robust and vital Church of Jesus Christ is not too great a stretch.

We need to recapture the notion that the most important thing that happens for Christians is that Lord’s Day worship experience. Therein stands the core of the faith: the Word proclaimed, the Sacraments observed. To treat this sacred event with indifference borders on heresy.

It is in this assembly of God’s people that the Spirit goes to work to accomplish resurrection of the Body of Christ anew. We are drawn together by God to get our marching orders from our Risen Lord present among us in the Word read and proclaimed. We are gathered around the Table to be fed and nourished by the Risen Lord who will live within us. In this way we are no longer just a local congregation--rather we become an expression of the whole Church of Jesus Christ.

Not only do we become the church in this sacred event week in and week out, but we go forth to be the Church in our lives, in our world. From these few moments of worship of Almighty God flow hours and days, even lifetimes of service to Almighty God, by disciples of Jesus Christ empowered by the Spirit.

Weekly worship is the rhythm of church life, and by God’s grace it becomes the pulse beat of the Church of Jesus Christ. The renewal, even reform, of worship opens the possibilities of resurrection and new life for the Body of Christ.

What changes would you suggest for worship in your church that would involve people more actively? How would you improve worship planning and preparation?