Confessions of an Incomplete Liturgical Nerd

True Confession: I’m a liturgy nerd.  

I’m a sucker for good order, for letting Scripture “dwell in me richly”, for the beauty of a chanted kyrie (even if I can’t do it), and a reverent Eucharistic prayer that places Christ’s inauguration of the New Covenant squarely in the context of God’s entire salvation narrative beginning in Genesis, for a full-on cross-led procession in and out of the service.  I like this stuff because I think it points to Jesus.  I like it because it’s different, and it reminds me that, as a Christian, I participate in a reality that is simultaneously “not of this world” and also the most real of all realities.  I like the liturgy, and “high church” because it’s the Sesame Street method of learning the faith – lex orandi, lex credendi, and when we pray and sing and read the actual words of Scripture, over and over and over again, we learn them, we marinate in them, and the Word that goes out and does not return empty transforms us, slowly, deeply, over time.  I love the old hymns.  I love that they were written by people with a deep faith and love for the Lord, and I love that they were written to teach and defend the faith.  “Of the Father’s Love Begotten” is a beautiful, haunting, lovely, deep, rich hymn – more so when you know that it was written in the 4^th century at a time when the debate about the quality of Jesus’ divinity was raging, threatening to tear the Church apart.  In short, I believe in mystagogy.

I’ll be honest – I think that when we scale down or eliminate altogether the depth and richness of our liturgical heritage, of our hymnic tradition, of the Eucharistic celebration in favor of a couple spontaneous prayers, a few songs that were mostly written for performance rather than congregational singing, and a “message” (however orthodox and well-delivered) given from a “stage”, we have lost a lot. 

And I’ll continue to be honest – I think that a great many congregations that make the decision to adopt this sort of “contemporary” worship have done so in order to play to “what people want”, to take the easier route of creating an “on-ramp” to the faith that never actually merges with the rest of traffic rather than doing the (admittedly difficult) work of teaching appreciation of the historic patterns and language of worship.  That’s harsh, I know. 

But.

True Confessions: I also love “contemporary Christian music.”  My alarm clock is set to KLOVE, it was Northwestern College’s radio stations that got me through seminary.  My “fav” playlist on my iPod is chock full of Lincoln Brewster and the Newsboys and Matt Maher and Brandon Heath and Sara Groves and Moriah Peters.  On Sunday morning I want “Lead On, O King Eternal”, but on Saturday night, what’s wrong with “How Many Kings?”

This is where my liturgical friends start to get antsy, I think.  CCM is so vapid, it’s so “emotive”, the theology is crap, it’s impossible to sing congregationally, it’s all 7-11 songs, “worship leaders” perform like they’re at a concert rather than leading others in worship of the Most High God, why do I feel like “Jesus is my boyfriend”, it’s unsacramental, etc.  I get it. 

These are all valid critiques.  Every one of them.  There is a lot of CCM out there that is garbage, especially if you subscribe to a sacramental, non-Arminian version of the Christian faith.  It’s part of why I don’t like CCM in worship – because it’s so hard to find music that is theologically acceptable and congregationally-singable – and even more so in smaller parishes with far less musical resources to support using it in worship.  Personally, I’d be pretty happy if I went my whole career without ever having to deal with that. 

But.  But, as a former pastor used to say, “the organ is God’s favorite instrument never mentioned in the Bible.”  There’s something slightly ironic about claiming to want the most ancient liturgies of the church revived – and played on an organ.  And even more than that, is the fact that culturally, the organ is rapidly falling into disuse.  Organs are expensive to buy (for new mission start congregations) and expensive to maintain once you’ve got them.  Organists are expensive to employ.  Very few congregations can afford a full-time, well-trained organist who can properly prepare for worship each week.  A goodly number of congregations are “getting by” with the (admirable, dedicated often heroic) efforts of near-volunteer musicians who serve the church as something of a moonlighting opportunity.   In no way do I wish to denigrate their service.  Most of them are hard-working wonderful people who love the Lord and love music and love serving their congregations in this way.  But most of them are also on the far side of their midlife crisis, and in 10 or 20 or 30 years at best, they will no longer be able to serve in this capacity.  Fewer and fewer people are enrolling in “sacred music” degree programs – the ones who do will have massive student loans to pay once they graduate, loans which will require a better pay/benefits schedule than many congregations can offer.  It’s chicken and egg, to be sure, but I don’t think that anybody has really come up with a good long-term solution. 

So what are we to do?  To oversimplify, there’s nobody left to play the organ, and all the non-organ music is crap. 

But, of course, not all non-organ music is crap.  There’s some that’s good.  Virtually all of Matt Maher ‘s work is fantastic.  Stuart Townsend rocks.  Some of Chris Tomlin is good.  Tenth Avenue North is usually pretty solid.   But it’s hard to get around the fact that if you’re from a sacramental (read: Lutheran, Roman Catholic, Anglican, Orthodox) tradition there’s very little CCM that is acceptable.  Why is this? 

I have a theory: my theory is that we (traditional, liturgical, organ-loving worship nerds) have so wedded ourselves to Bach-ϋber-alles, that we have effectively suppressed the potential gifts of our own congregants, our own theologians, our own musicians.  “Styles” of music come and go – Gregorian chant sounds different than medieval choral anthems which sound different than antebellum fiddle songs which sound different than early 20^th-century-jazz which sounds different than Elvis which sounds different than hippie folk music which sounds different than…well, you get the point.  So it stands to reason that modern-day writers and composers aren’t going to be coming up with the next Beethoven symphony.  They’d probably write something that sounds more like Matt Redman than Charles Wesley.  If we let them. 

But do we shout down “contemporary” so loudly that our high school youth who love music but not so much Isaac Watts think that if they wrote something that was Biblically and theologically sound we’d reject it out of hand? 

In recent years, I’ve really taken to Matt Maher.  If you don’t know who he is, think of songs like “Your Grace Is Enough”, “Christ is Risen,” and “Turn Around.”  He’s a sensation on the Christian music charts, he plays “modern-sounding” music that resonates with those less enamored of Martin Luther or Ralph Vaughn Williams.  And he is thoroughly Roman Catholic.  Maher’s songs are drenched in Scripture and liturgy, in the words of the daily offices and the wisdom of the saints.  They are theologically rich, and avoid trite “Jesus is my boyfriend” style clichés.  They open a new world of contemporary music to congregations who would like to use a particular style without compromising orthodoxy, they provide words for individual praise and prayer among the faithful.  And in a CCM culture that tends toward deep suspicion of “pre-written prayers” and sacramental traditions, especially Roman Catholicism, he has steadily been making inroads and building friendships and showing that the RC church isn’t scary, and it gets a lot more right than it gets wrong.  So, yay, Matt Maher. 

But it makes me ask – how many other “Matt Mahers” are out there?  How many grew-up-Lutheran (or RC or Anglican) composers and lyricists have we pushed to non-denom Baptist/Reformed circles because we explicitly and implicitly communicate that any music less than 200 years old (theirs) is inherently inferior?

Once upon a time, the pipe organ was new.  Once upon a time, Bach was but a gleam in his father’s eye.  Surely, because there is nothing new under the sun, once upon a time somebody thought that “kids these days” needed to stop trying to reinvent the wheel, when God hath so clearly ordained the psalms for the purpose of corporate worship why do you need anything different isn’t what we have good enough for you? 

I’m not giving up on my homeboys, Watts and Wesley.  But I love me some Matt Maher.  Someday my congregation isn’t going to have an organist (we only barely do now).  So how do we, who love and respect and honor the Tradition of the Church and the sacred words and music it has given us, also find ways to lift up and honor the gifts of today’s saints, as well?  If God has given them the gifts, then it must be because the Church has need of them.  What do we do with that?

Thanksgiving Thoughts

I went to an "ecumenical Thanksgiving service" tonight that was "hosted" by the pastor I co-teach confirmation with.  He asked me if I would read, so I read a text from Deuteronomy, and led the responsorial psalm-paraphrase from ELW. 

Other than that, though, I just got to worship, and it was fabulous.  At first, it was hard, because I kept thinking about what I would have done differently, but once I got past that and just got sing and listen and pray, it was awesome. 

It's been a few years since I went to a Thanksgiving service, and we sung - of course - "Come, Ye Thankful People, Come."

Come, ye thankful people, come;
Raise the song of Harvest-home.
All be safely gathered in
Ere the winter storms begin;
God, our Maker, doth provide
For our wants to be supplied,
Come to God's own temple, come;
Raise the song of Harvest-home.

All the world is God's own field,
Fruit unto His praise to yield;
Wheat and tares together sown,
Unto joy or sorrow grown;
First the blade and then the ear,
Then the full corn shall appear.
Lord of harverst, grant that we
Wholesome grain and pure may be.

For the Lord, our God, shall come
And shall take His harvest home;
From His field shall in that day
All offences purge away;
Give His angels charge at last
In the fire the tares to cast,
But the fruitful ears to store
In His garner evermore.

Even so, Lord, quickly come
To Thy final Harvest-home;
Gather Thou Thy people in,
Free from sorrow, free from sin,
There, forever purified,
In Thy garner to abide.
Come with all Thine angels, come,
Raise the glorious Harvest-home.

I don't think I've ever cried singing this hymn before, but I almost did tonight.  I think part of it was just having been in such a rural area and around all the farmers who have been gathering in the harvest so...faithfully, and who managed to get it all in less than a week before the first snowstorm hit.  And suddenly I was just transported back to an earlier, an easier, a simpler time.  When churches were full on Thanksgiving, or any time there was a service, and when they were all singing this hymn with gusto, and it was so real and poignant and relevant to everyone.  And in a lot of ways, that still is life in this northern town. 

The other thing about the hymn is that it's just so...trusting of God.  Maybe it's just that I loved the opportunity to worship, but I was reveling in singing about turning everything over to Him, about imagining the day when He will "give His angels charge at last."  Ah, even now, I'm getting teary-eyed just remembering it...

Even so, Lord, quickly come
To thy final Harvest-home;
Gather Thou Thy people in,
Free from sorrow, free from sin,
There forever purified,
In Thy garner to abide.
Come with all Thine angels, come,
Raise the glorious Harvest-home.

Yes, please.

Dignity in Worship

Christopher Johnson over at Bad Vestments does a good job of reminding us that "Christian worship is not supposed to be about you."  If you haven't checked out his site, take a coffee break and go do it now.  You should be okay just looking at the pictures, but make sure you swallow your coffee and set the mug down before you read the comments - they are always hysterical.

Meanwhile, Fr. Z, who provides "slavishly accurate liturgical translations & Catholic commentary" takes up the cause of dignity in responding to a reader's note:

From a reader:

What do you think about the following announcement at Mass: "At the rear of the church, please pick up a paper leaf and write on it what you are thankful for this year. We will put all of them on a tree and then carry that tree in the entrance procession at Mass on Thanksgiving Day.”

What is this, my old seminary? … er um… kindergarten?

I think that sort of stunt cheapens what Mass is about, erodes what the Eucharist (the Sacrament and Its celebration) is as both Sacrifice and Thanksgiving.  Surely some of you might be saying, “But Father! But Father! Shouldn’t people be bringing their expressions of thanksgiving to Mass? Isn’t that also part of why we go?”

I think that way of expressing thanks is a distraction. It refocuses the attention of the congregation on itself in misdirected sentimentalism. For example, who will pay attention to the processional Cross once that sort of thing is being hauled in, probably by a child. How cute!

I am not against this sort of thing outside of Mass. Maybe they should plan something during the coffee and donuts?

Indeed, Fr. Z.  Indeed.

In Which I Become Completely Sold On "Traditional" Worship, Part 3

Where was I?  Oh yes, my supervisor wanted me to evaluate Young Adult Worship.  I got there, and immediately engaged my event-planner side, left over from my days in politics.  I was thinking:

Well, let's start by evaluating how many people are here.  The actual number of people here isn't terrible, but the room is "built" way too big.  It is a gigantic room, with too much space between tables and chairs.  The room is obviously used for different purposes during the rest of the week, the remnants (tables, chairs, etc...) are just laying up against the walls.  The stage is...well, I don't know.  The lighting is strange.  No one is singing...I think because they are sitting at tables.  The PowerPoint is...hey wait a second, where is the cross?  Oh look, there it is!  Stuffed over in a corner with some extra sound equipment.  It feels like a comedy club, not a church.

Ok, so, what do we need to do?  Get rid of about 40 or 50 chairs, and set up some pipe and drape to close off the room a little.  Fix the lighting.  Spotlight the preacher, come up with some sort of lighting plan for when the band is playing.  Get the cross up on the stage, over to the side at an angle is fine so you can still run the PowerPoint against the wall.  Get some music going before the service actually starts.  Etc...

And then it occurred to me:

My goodness, this is supposed to be church, not a political event.  I'm trying to figure out what story the media would write if they had pictures of this, when I should be worshipping the Lord God Almighty.

So here's what I'm thinking: Traditional, liturgical worship, particularly when paired with the Lord's Supper/Eucharist/Communion is necessarily focused on Christ (at least for people who confess the Real Presence).  There is a lot, lot, lot of prep work that can and does and should go into awesome "high church" worship.  But my sense is that most of it is related to the dignity of the service itself.  The preparation is about expecting that the Lord is present in this place, engaging the tradition honorably and worthily, and allowing congregants to participate in that to the fullest extent.

Contrast that with my sense about the prep work of contemporary, low-church worship: I feel like we're trying to create an environment that we can convince people to come to.  We want the lights low and the people crammed together, to amp up the energy.  We need well-designed rooms because it's more professional.  We encourage people to bring in coffee and snacks because it's friendly and supposedly proves that "God can fit into your lifestyle" or something.  Bottom line: we have to create the conditions to make this service succeed.

I want to be clear.  Jesus shows up at contemporary worship.  "Where two or three are gathered," and all that.  "Contemporvant worship" has the capacity to reach people for the Lord, it allows people to encounter God, it creates and encourages faith, it comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable.  I would never say that it doesn't.

But when you have the Body and Blood of the Lord Jesus Christ, when you have the liturgy, brimming with the language of the Bible, language that has stood the test of time, that has steeped millions of people across time and space in the faith, then, just...wow.  It's going to "work" - He always has.  The rest is easy.  Making sure chairs or pews are arranged well becomes about allowing people to best participate in the encounter, not about convincing them to stay or come back.

So, am I anti-contemporary Christian music now?  Am I advocating for an end to all midweek Young Adult Worship that isn't the high-church Divine Service/practically a Roman Catholic Mass celebrated by the pope?  No.  I'm always in favor of everything that God uses to reach people.  Let's keep the music, and let's use it where it's appropriate.  Let's have concerts and clubs and Young Adult Ministry.  But let's stop pretending that the 8:00 "traditional" service and the 10:00 "Contemporvant" service are the same thing, just catering to different preferences.  They aren't. 

**I'm perfectly willing to engage anybody on this topic.  If you think I'm totally off-base, tell me so!

In Which I Become Completely Sold On "Traditional" Worship, Part 2

So, after the embarrasing confession in Part 1, below, that I started hanging out around contemporary Christian music because I wanted to hang out with a cute boy, I started to actually like the stuff, egads! 

This is, mostly, I think, because I actually started listening to it.  When I left home to move to seminary, I was ridiculously homesick.  I missed Gigantor Church and my friends like crazy.  It was a struggle not to drive home every weekend.  But as I was getting settled into the new city and scanning the tuner on my car radio to find new presets, I stumbled on the "Christian music" station, which seemed to constantly be playing the songs that I heard so frequently back home.  And so even though I didn't love it, I clung to it, because it reminded me of home.

Eventually, the homesickness faded a bit, but I kept the station.  See, it turns out that contemporary music isn't all terrible.  Some of it's pretty good, actually.  Yeah, some of it has some pretty suspect theology, and some of it is too sappy and sentimental, but some of it's good.  I never really got to the point where it was my preference for Sunday morning, but I gained a much better attitude about it.  For example, if I have a friend who doesn't go to church very often (or at all), but will go with me to the contemporary (but not traditional) service, I can handle it.  And I started to enjoy the midweek or even Sunday night services in my new city.  Again, not so much Sunday morning (it's just not "church" for me), but when MercyMe and Tenth Ave. North came and did a concert at Gigantor Church, you can bet I was there!

Around this time I started struggling with the fact that my own personal preferences still leaned strongly toward the "traditional" liturgy, etc...for Sunday morning, but seeing the power of contemporary, non-traditional services as well.  God reaches and heals and brings unto himself thousands of people through Gigantor Church.  How can I deny that it "works", regardless of what I happen to like most?  And then this video came out and went viral:



It's absolutely hysterical, because it's so true, and honestly, I think that's a little bit sad, too.  So still, I pondered.  Worship prep does not necessarily equal manipulation or lack of sincerity or authenticity.  Really, really good "traditional" worship needs lots of prep too - picking good hymns, having readers and choirs practice, getting everything arranged on the altar and in the sanctuary so that it all goes according to plan, etc...And that's "all the same" too.  Different "same" than "contemporvant" worship services are, but same nonetheless.  Right?

But last night at Contemporvant Young Adult Service at Big Church in Big City, it hit me.  My supervisor had asked me to go and tell him how many people were there, how it went, etc...So I was paying lots of attention, engaging my "event planner" side, which I don't always necessarily enjoy, but I can do it when I have to, and honestly, I think I'm pretty good at it. 

But now, for the cliffhanger:  Come back later for Part 3, in which I come down firmly on the side of the liturgy. 

In Which I Become Completely Sold On "Traditional" Worship, Part 1

Tonight I was up at Big Church in Big City, and it was a good thing.  When my supervisor told me that I could have my pick of what ministries I wanted to be a part of, right away I picked Young Adult Worship on Thursday nights.  For one thing, I don't get to do hardly any worship planning at my churches, because I have a rockstar Worship and Music Committee.  And I love them.  But I would also love to be a little more um...involved.  Picking hymns, touching up the liturgy, that sort of thing.  But I can live with the situation as-is.  The other reason I wanted to be part of Young Adult Worship is because I feel like I never get a chance to worship.  I go to work on Sunday mornings, not church anymore.  And I really miss it.  Wednesday night adult worship at my churches is getting to be a good substitute for me, but it's still kind of a substitute.

Now, way back in the days of my biggest jerkiness as a church-goer and all-around human being, I was staunchly in favor of so-called "traditional" worship.  The liturgy (LBW Setting 2, please), hymns (on a pipe organ), all four readings (OT, Psalm, Epistle, Gospel), candles, crucifer, torch-bearers, the whole deal.  That was how church was supposed to be, gosh-darn-it, and anybody who didn't like it like that just wasn't spiritually mature enough to appreciate it.  Contemporary worship services aren't really worship services, they're just concerts.  Ugh.

Looking back, I think part of my problem was a) I was a jerk, and b) I didn't know most of the contemporary music.  I have absolutely zero musical ability, and when the whole congregation is singing hymns that I have been hearing since I was a baby, accompanied by a booming pipe organ, I can sing along and my crappy voice fades into the background.  (Or so I like to think.  Don't wreck my delusions, ok?)  So, I didn't listen to contemporary Christian music, the Top 40 of which is pretty much what gets played in contemporary services on any given Sunday, a lot of it was too high for me to sing comfortably, and the whole 7-11 thing (7 words repeated 11 times) really gets on my nerves.  Basically, I hated contemporary worship but the reasons I hated it were entirely about me, and not about any practically or theologically substantive argument. 

Then I went through a period where I came to at least...tolerate...it.  In part, because at Gigantor Church at home, 98% of what they do is contemporary music.  If you're willing to show up for church at 8:00 on Sunday morning you can hit the traditional service which has fabulous organ talent, but that's about it.  And the thing of it was, there was a cute boy that I knew at the time who kept asking me to go with him to the Thursday Night Young Adult Service.  Now, I really didn't like this service, at the time.  It was too loud, the room was "built" oddly, I didn't know the music, and the preaching was hit-or-miss.  But darned if lust didn't win out over my taste in music, and I ended up there on more than one occasion.  (For what it's worth, the cute boy is now marrying one of those Perfect Girls, so for all you young kids out there, here's a lesson worth learning: sacrificing musical and theological principles for the sake of sitting next to the "cute boy" or "hot girl" in church is never a good idea, ok?)

Next up: How I came to love contemporary music

Tales of a Country Parson, Vol. IV

So, yesterday was interesting.

One of the goals that I have set for myself on internship (we're supposed to "set goals") is to learn to preach without a manuscript.  I actually think that, in general, I'm more of an outline preacher.  When I read a manuscript, it feels fake, like I'm, well, reading the sermon, instead of delivering it or preaching it.  But I'm also a little concerned that without an outline or notes of some kind, that my verbose nature will take over, and I will wander far afield, jabbering away about whatever strikes my fancy at the time. 

Now, as of yesterday at 8 am, I didn't quite feel ready to walk away from the manuscript entirely.  Earlier in the week, I had consciously entertained the idea of an outline or even going completely free-form, but had decided against it.  And when I left Church #1, bulletins firmly in hand, I was giving no thought whatsoever to this particular goal.  However, about halfway to Church #2, I realized that the text of my sermon was laying nicely on the pulpit of Church #1.  At least, that's where I assumed it was, since it wasn't in my Bible, caught up in my own copy of the bulletin, or in my purse.  I searched each several times, and finally decided to spend the last few miles of the drive trying to remember what I had written. 

The Sound of Silence

"For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him.  He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken.  On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God." Psalm 62:5-7 

It's shockingly quiet around here today, in a way that it hasn't been for much of the week.  There have been lots of extra people that I don't know filling up the dorm rooms, shouting across campus, running up and down the halls, and being obnoxiously loud for the last few days, so it's a blessing to have a little peace and quiet.  (Wow, I sound old.  Next it's going to be "Get offa my lawn!")

Even during the school year when there's just the "normal" amount of people around, it is never quiet.  This building I live in is possibly older than Martin Luther himself, and sound carries extremely well.  The classroom underneath my bedroom has a piano in it, and I can hear every note played.  I'm right next door to the bathroom, so there's that noise. The guys that live on the floor above me are, I don't know, elephants, or something.  Huge, heavy steps, all the time.  Plus, when their girlfriends are over (and I am not the only person to register this complaint), well, let's just say it's the sound of Visions and Expectations being torn to bits...  That and there are always the friendly campus sounds of professors and students talking to one another on the sidewalks between buildings, cars coming and going in the parking lot, little kids running around the grassy areas and playing with their dogs, etc...