Showing posts with label Liturgy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Liturgy. Show all posts

Friday, December 30, 2011

Missing Advent - In Defense of the Church Calendar

Just before Christmas I saw a video of a hip hop dance/rap group performing during a church service. Although they were extremely talented, it really bothered me. My first thought was "That's not how you observe Advent." Apart from the major observances such as Easter and Christmas, I found very few Evangebapticostal churches that followed a church calendar. The observance of Advent is one of the major reasons I returned to a more liturgical tradition. Christmas just never seemed the same without that focus, preparation, and contemplation. I genuinely missed Advent.

Perhaps the only thing as enjoyable as pleasant experiences is the anticipation of those experiences. That is what Advent is...a season of anticipation. It is a season of quiet contemplation. It is a time where you not only reflect on the darkness, but hope for the coming of a great light. It is a time of somber preparation. When I was living in the land of Evangelicals, the Christmas season seemed to be a time of constantly singing and proclaiming that a savior has come to Earth. Every week was "Jesus is here. Jesus is here. Jesus is here." In the liturgical Lutheran tradition, each week was "Keep looking. Keep hoping. Don't give up. Your savior will come. Just hold on a little longer." until finally it becomes "God has kept His promise."

Each week for the four weeks leading up to the Christmas celebration a candle is lit as you anticipate the coming of the Savior, each with its own specific meaning.



Week 1:  The Prophecy Candle or The Candle of Hope
This candle symbolizes our belief in a God who will keep His promises.

Week 2: The Bethlehem Candle or The Candle of Preparation
This candle reminds us to prepare ourselves to receive the gift God is about to give.

Week 3: The Shepherd Candle or The Candle of Joy
This candle represents the great joy of the angels who announced the birth of Jesus to the shepherds.

Week 4: The Angel Candle or The Candle of Love
This candle reminds us that God so loved the world that he sent his only son.

The 5th Candle (Christmas): The Christ Candle
The final candle obviously represents the fulfilled promise of the coming of Christ.



But overall, I think these sum up what the entire Christmas season is truly about: 
Hope, Preparation, Joy, Love, Christ.

More than just Advent, I feel the entire church calendar keeps a flow to worship that encourages honesty in our spiritual experiences. Let me try to explain what I mean.

Have you ever known that one person that always smiles and tries to say how great things are even when the strain and near twitching of the muscles in the corners of their mouth and the slight dullness in their eyes betrays them? If you've spent anytime in American Evangelical Culture, I'm willing to bet that you do. Far too many churches within that culture promote this idea of constant happiness, never being lonely, always feeling loved, not being depressed, and never feeling abandoned if you are truly following Christ. They leave very few options for those in their congregation that feel otherwise. If they accept such beliefs, the only conclusions they are left with are: a)  it is a failure of their own faith  b) they should never let on how they feel, but just keep up happy appearances until they are "right with God." or c) they obviously don't belong in the church.

Which if any of these is consistent with biblical teaching? If you said "none of the above," I would have to agree. I have this theory. (If you know me at all, you'll soon realize that my overly analytical way of thinking lends itself to the development of many theories.) What is the mood of nearly any given American Evangelical Culture Church on almost any Sunday of the year? One of constant emotional hype, whether in the form of upbeat overly sugarcoated praise songs, or slower songs that often result in tears of joy thinking of what God has done. The congregation always seems to be either waving their hands in air in exuberance or on their knees thanking God for all He's done.

Let me be absolutely clear that I don't think there is anything wrong with those types of experiences in and of themselves. What I do think is wrong, and where I feel this culture fosters a practice of dishonesty, is that these are virtually the ONLY widely accepted emotional expressions of worship. It becomes a one note song.

What the church calendar does is guide congregations through various seasons. Some are joyful, some are thankful, some are preparatory, some are somber, and some are quiet and reflective. Easter is another great example of this. Does it make a lot of sense to be singing about Jesus conquering death on Good Friday? Or would that time better be spent thinking of the distress and sorrow of his disciples at such a time and confronting the areas in our own lives where we wonder if God will actually keep His promises?

Just as life has a range of emotions an experiences, so does the practice of liturgical worship that follows the church calendar. I don't feel happy and like rejoicing all the time, but the liturgical year doesn't demand that of me. And as I read the Bible, I find many like minded souls writing of ALL their emotional experiences whether grateful, doubtful, joyful, sad, angry, or disappointed with God. So why have we accept worship that doesn't allow   encourage that same level of emotional honesty?

I think there are a lot more people than we may realize that are desperate to hear their church say "Keep looking. Keep hoping. Don't give up. Hold on just a little longer."  and to allow them to meet God not in the confines of the parameters they have set for Him, but in the midst of their raw and sometimes ugly emotions.

Friday, March 25, 2011

The Emotional Appeal

Did he really just say what I thought he said? I couldn't believe my ears. Here I was sitting in chapel at my Conservative Christian College. It was a Friday "praise chapel" which was all praise and worship rather than a speaker. The student who was leading the worship that day was talking about how easy it can be to go through the motions. He said "I'm sure we all know of the worship format of 2:3:2. Two slow songs to draw everyone in, three upbeat songs to pump them up, and two slower emotional songs to prepare them for the message." My ears perked up immediately. No, I didn't know that. I had no clue that there was a recognized formula for achieving the proper emotional response to your message. As much as I understand the need for leaders to be intentional about structuring a worship service, I couldn't help but feel a little manipulated. (Joel Wentz wrote a great article for Relevant about this very issue that I would highly recommend you read.)

During my time as an American Evangelical, I spent a few years within the more charismatic circles of the movement. A number of my close friends and roommates were involved with such movements, so it started when I began tagging along with them to various events. But there were two very distinct moments that opened my eyes to the issue of emotional manipulation within the church. I'd like to share those stories with you.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Ash Wednesday


As I've mentioned before, I like the liturgical calendar and the idea that there are various seasons of the church in which we focus on different areas of our faith life. Today is Ash Wednesday, the day that kicks off the liturgical season of Lent. After attending my church's midday Ash Wednesday service today, I realized that the manner in which many observe Lent is extremely disconnected from the purpose of the season.

Although most Evangebapticostal churches do not observe a liturgical calendar, most people I met in American Evangelical Culture do observe Lent. However, they do so in a manner that in my opinion is separate from the liturgical roots of the season. And even though I knew many who observed Lent, I met few that observed Ash Wednesday, which I find to be a essential part of Lent. It's the day that sets the entire tone for the season.

I'm sure we all know of people who give something up for Lent. Or perhaps we give something up ourselves. I've had many Evangelical friends who have given up TV, smoking, coffee, sweets, or (in recent years) Facebook for Lent. This is a practice that many in traditional liturgical traditions observe as well. (As evidenced in the Catholic practice of eating no meat on Fridays, which is the reason so many restaurants are heavily marketing fish sandwiches this time of year.) The difference I find in this practice and the liturgical tradition lies in the reason I hear people give for doing so. In American Evangelical Culture, the most common reasons I've heard given for giving something up are to spend more time with God and in prayer. These are not unworthy goals, but how is this different than any other period of fasting one might partake in?

In my liturgical Lutheran church, the pastor reminded us today that Lent is about humility, reflection, and repentance. The choice to give something up isn't merely about having more time to pray. It is an act of penitence and remorse. It is a time of year in which we remember how fragile and confess how sinful we are. The ashes that are imposed are a symbol of that fragility and a declaration of repentance. (In what I find to be a fitting metaphor, the ashes are made from the palms used in the observance of the Sunday of the Passion-aka Palm Sunday. If you'd like to read more about why ashes are used, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America has a pretty good explanation of the process here.)  But most importantly, Lent is a season in which we seek to truly learn what it means to forgive and be forgiven. If we give up our morning coffee or other indulgence, but neglect to learn the art of forgiveness, I don't think we can claim that we are truly observing Lent.

Friday, February 4, 2011

When The Church Is No Longer A Refuge: A Brief Follow Up

The previous post was something that I wrote a few years ago while processing through my decision to leave that particular congregation and heavily influenced my decision to return to a more liturgical tradition. It's a very personal story and not one that I share easily. I was not a soldier or a rape victim. My trauma sprung from involvement in a severe fatal multi-vehicle accident. As such, it's not as understood as trauma caused by more extreme experiences. To be fair, it caught me off guard as well. I wanted to share that story, because I know that there are others who have found themselves in similar circumstances.

I've heard many different stories of people who have left churches and regardless of the reasons, they all seem to share a common theme: the loss of one's sense of safety. For me, once I heard the preacher openly deny the existence of my experiences and saw members of the congregation agreeing with him, I not only felt like I would never be understood, but any sense of emotional security I had was stripped away. I felt vulnerable. I felt as if I could never let anyone know and if they found out I wouldn't be able to bear the pain of having to be accused of not trusting God enough all over again. Ironically, given the bad experiences I'd previously had with a Christian community over the same issue, just the act of going back to a church was a major step for me in trusting God.

I believe that experience was a large part of what led me to a more liturgical tradition (in my case a Lutheran Church, which is what I grew up in). I know that many find liturgy to be bland or dry and some wonder how you can still engage with words you repeat every week. Liturgy doesn't just provide phrases to repeat, it also moves the congregation through the church calendar and establishes the Bible passages to be used for sermon texts each week in accordance. I think liturgy helps to keep us more focused on the person and work of Christ, which is the center of our faith. Most Evangebapticostal churches do not utilize liturgy. In those congregations it is up to the pastor to decide what he/she feels the congregation should hear. Although there is nothing wrong with that, it often leads to pet issues being given prominence. How many of us know of churches where the pastor speaks about tithing/repentance/evangelism/sexual immorality at least once a month? In doing so, think of the percentage of time each year that is being dedicated to more minor theological issues. How is that distorting the behavior of the church?

I love liturgy because it doesn't go off on tangents about where man has failed God or what is wrong in our society. Rather it reminds us of the work and example of Jesus which challenges us to examine our own lives and behavior in light of such.

When I read the Gospels, the only people I see that seemed to feel unwelcome in the presence of Jesus were the fundamentalist religious leaders who couldn't understand why he would associate himself with the "unclean" masses. Their churches, like many of ours today, might as well have had a sign post out front reading, "You must be at least THIS holy to enter." But Jesus never seemed to use a spiritual measuring stick on others before deciding if he would interact with them. We read of him associating with tax collectors, adulterers, the poor, the disabled, the doubtful, and even the judgmental religious leaders themselves. He didn't just preach at them either. We read of him asking thoughtful questions, listening to their responses, and encouraging a dialogue that would make them think about things for themselves. His open arms were not paired with judgemental eyes. All were welcome. Can the same be said of your church?

For those of you who feel unsafe in most churches or in the presence of many Christians but still desire to seek God, don't give up. That's not a true reflection of Christ or what Christianity should be.  There are people and churches that aren't like that. And they are worth finding.